03: the blood homage

Akira was a bald man with attached earlobes, a thin mustache, and sharp, wolfish eyes. When he slid open the door, the presence he brought into the office was unmistakably odd--almost wrong. When he muttered “Good day, Captain,” his voice was shallow. When he approached the desk, his steps were predatory. When he bowed before her stood, there was a rigidness in his posture one might find in an alert wolf or bear. 

This man was no average shinigami. If Aki could not see that now, then she was the queen of fools. 

“No, Captain, there have been no explosions. Unfortunately, we have very few decent reports. But there is one.” Akira placed the report on the desk in front of Aki and flipped through the pages. Near the end, there was a small report with one picture attached. A picture of a wooden Rukongai pub surrounded by burnt down trees with a broken bridge crossing from its door across a yawning chasm. 

“I strongly believe, Captain Tachibana, that the culprit is there. According to the report, many strange reiatsu signatures have been felt in the area. Signatures, according to the Twelth, that match those that destroyed the Soukyouku. I propose we send a team immediately to investigate this location.” 

“With all due respect, captain, the Onmitsukidou are . . .indisposed right now. The riots inside of their headquarters took down an estimated thirty percent of their forces. I doubt they could effectively send a team to investigate this, when they have more problems than they can count themselves.” Akira coughed into his hand and placed it back behind his back. A drop of red sat inconspicuously on the edge of Aki’s desk. 

“I also believe that you should go yourself, captain. I understand this may be a false positive, or it may be an ambush. I believe sending in the lieutenant or anyone lesser to lead a squadron would be foolish. We are dealing with enemies that we believe to be captain-class. Thus, we need both your permission and your presence, Captain Tachibana.”