the quick and lonely [closed]

Today’s revels had been all too eventful for the Captain as several disappointments came to realization. His son, most likely the next clan leader had marginalized all protocol and at the expense of not only potential life, but the defilement of their surname. Almost crossing blades with the Fukutaichō of the Jūichibantai, forcing Jingu—another slight irritation in his side—to fill his position after eventual death. And lastly, being paired with three others with varying personalities to eradicate an olden family that hadn’t seen moderate activity in decades. Taxing, deplorable and far beyond the grasp of Itada’s willingness, all the man could do was accommodate the given orders and complete the task without failure.  

While his thoughts were loud, the shower’s inundation drowned out Itada’s internal confliction as his form was cleansed in the process. While the bulk of the Seiretei was victim to infiltration by the masses, his personal quarter was a safe haven. Here, he could find peace, solitude and order that was unrivaled by any other location. It was a refuge that was designed to keep all that annoyed the Captain outside its walls, nonetheless, to say it was impermeable was a slight stretch of one’s imaginings.  

As metal shifted, the facet yielded as little water to fall until nothing descended. Stepping from the confines of the steaming chamber, Itada did well to gradually, though partially dry himself. Several moments guided the man outside his bathing space and into the enormity which was his sleeping quarters; the finest of wood forged its walls as paintings and fine materials were scattered without arbitrary direction. His Hakuma on, a bare chest was exposed beneath a dampened down. His hand guided another over the mane of raven as the Captain moved towards his desk, though stopping a moment after.  

“Jingu-chan…Make yourself at home.” She already did as loud smacking signified his rice balls had been tainted with her pong. A simple turn of the heel would focus his face upon her own, as narrow eyes fixated themselves upon her form. Someone, for the first time, showed interest in something other than fighting; this could have been stretched considering combat would surely ensue, however.  

“If you’ve simply come here to inquire about my son, know he’s been disciplined. “ Pausing, Itada took a breath. “An incident like today won’t happen again.” Tossing one of the towels on the back of the chair he rested before, the Captain peeled his eyes casually from Jingu and pinpointed his clothing laid out on his bed. His Kosode and Haori, ironed to wrinkleless perfection remained as he didn’t bother moving. 

“Is there something else you needed?” 

Every feature on Itada’s head lifted in unexpected embarrassment: brows, eyes, even his hair found a subtle elevation as Jingu continued to punch into his walls of comfort. “J-Jingu-chan! Why do y---“He poised himself. You are a cleaver sort. Having found himself in a fluster, it took virtually all the mental irons he had to force his mouth sealed, and words that shouldn’t have been spoken, at least on this night, to remain shrouded in mystery. Tilting his head down, allowing his structures to rest in content, the man didn’t turn as a flush of dim red cross the corners of his cheeks.  

His face relaxed and his eyes softened when she progressed to mere inches separating the two. “If that was solely my purpose, why would I simply deviate? Because you asked me?” He would turn, allowing his taller form to tower her own as raven eyes leveled on her soft, misguiding face. “Let’s make one thing transparent. I’m not your subordinate; you will not speak to me as such.” His tone was cold, and while commonplace for Itada, Jingu could sense a certain irascibility in his voice. While they stood in place, however, the Kenpachi separated him from his bed, and swallowing his pride was the only measure he could take to make his next inquiry.  

“I will not force you to walk with the Fukutaichō, but don’t expect my eyes to leave you as well.”  

Pause. 

“If you want to be useful, however, could you hand me my kosode.” 

As a lone hand thrusted its weight into Itada’s chest, delicate fingers were met with a firm, though temperate clasp. “…” Silent, Itada looked down, only to hind his hand eclipsing hers. Sliding his digits back along the end of her fingers, the Captain took hold of his Kosode and in two effortless, fluid motions; he wrapped the accustomed wear around his body. Tug and pull—these were the actions that tightened it around his torso and while modified, the high collar suited his deportment well. Propped on an armory manikin was the devilishly red raiment he took only on special assignments. Having known the past intents of the Noble family he was assigned to kill, its properties were required.   

Donning the raiment and placing it above its robes, Itada listened to Jingu’s words and his mind beamed. “I will keep that in mind.” In truth, the Seiryū didn’t hold even a silver of fear within bones. Being one of the strongest Captains made him, without a doubt, one of the strongest Souls to exist within the Soul Soiecty. It would have been more accurate to request him not to extinguish anyone outside the mission parameters given his temper; which, oddly, was magnified around the Kenpachi. She knew what buttons to press, and did so repeatedly.  

Finally, he tugged his Captain’s Haori over his form, allowing his arms to slip through the sleeveless openings before fashioning Seken Chōdairyū on his hip. Following in the steps of the Kenpachi, passive eyes moved up and down her form gradually, almost thoroughly as several thoughts raced through his mind. None of which would come to surface, however. The Mission was about to commence.  

The whispers. Echoing louder than the strongest of Kidō incantation, an unforeseen hyper-sensitivity alerted Itada to everything that was slurred. The disdain was pungent, for confusion surfaced as the two Taichō walked side-by-side throughout the heart of the Seireitei, only to emerge at its mouth. Seated officers mixed with lesser aristocracies accumulated the majority of such gossip, though it didn’t do well to lessen the displeasure and strain it placed on the mild-tempered Seiryū. The Kenpachi, however, didn’t bother helping the situation, and once again barked with the intent to maim. Itada simply remained silent until all parties arrived.  

Ashton and Heiji were wise to have arrived early, and while their individual mannerisms weren’t tolerable, Itada had to restrain himself for the time being. His Vice-Captain, a sarcastic constable with some sense of jingoism and Heiji, the Religious aficionado with strength on par with his own faith; while not his first choice for such a discrete mission, their talents would prove somewhat useful. Clearing his throat, Itada would call forth the attention of the three. 

“Listen, this mission will be carried out with optimal efficiency.” Giving forth the expectations, Itada would soon transitioned to his orders. “Ash-san, we will be acting under the orders of Kenpachi-taichō. Out of the four of us, she has the most experience with the location we’re traveling to. Failure to comply with her directives—within reason—will not be tolerated.” Prideful, and drowned in his own potency, Itada was by more stretch of the world, a fool. Taking passenger to Jingu’s control was something only a madman would conform with enthusiastically; nonetheless, she had her moments hopefully, she wouldn’t collapse this one.  

“You have the lead, Jingu-chan.” 

A brief pause ensued.

"Don't make me regret my decision."

The gargantuan anthropoids gave way for the respective heads of the 7^th and 11^th division to enter into the Rukongai. Stoic and practiced, their miens were ones to be valued amongst all within the Seireitei. Unfaltering wills guided their eyes to the unconventional and tutelage of law and rectitude sharpened their blades for the eventual and inevitable combat that would come in the future. Truly, they were prime examples of soldiers, and while outfitted with the features of gorilla; their temperaments all rivaled the most devoted of Taichō. 

If only all who worked with the aim of protecting the Soul Society were so dignified; his eyes then leveled on the three before him. A religious Evangelist who worked beneath a woman who’s instinctive mind was as primal as the faces of the Guards behind them. Lastly, the acerbic ‘Lothario’ who’s smile only bred thoughts of absolute arrogance. This was the squadron sent to occupy and collect the souls of the long-since exiled and scattered clan. It brought indiscernible creases to the Captain’s countenance.  

Then Jingu suggested the idea of a race. “Is this your first suggestion as squadron leader, Kenpachi?” Itada chimed in ironic inquiry; such a nature was given in an even, fixed tone, however. Not one for hindrances and meaningless exploits, a race was something he could have lived without. Windswept bangs casually hid fine eyes that held ordered disagreement for he saw nothing in her request being beneficial to the mission itself.  

Jingu-chan, however, was given headship by her only peer in this mission. If this was truly what she wanted to do, it would be insolent and against code to impose. Inward sighs would continue to ensue, surely.