Gods and peasants [Closed/Hinaai]

“Soutaichou-Sama,” Zuko spoke. He came down in a deep bow, raising only after she murmured her response. “It is a pleasure to have you here today.” 

“I doubt it,” Hinaai replied, in between drags of her cigarette. Each word was a coil of smoke that struck the air. “But I appreciate the motions. Is this it?” 

Hinaai didn’t listen to Zuko’s answer; the guard told her what she already knew. The black door, a metal slab infused with spells to keep the target from escaping, had the kanji for X666 burned into it. It was the name some pompous member of the Central 46 had picked because he or she thought it clever and fitting. Hinaaii thought it was immature. 

Another drag on her cigarette calmed the nerves. “Open it.” Zuko obeyed without question. 

When Hinaai stepped into the cell, she was amused to see how it had been set up. A table and chair for her to sit at had been arranged, and the prisoner was bowed behind the bars. They slid open when the Soutaichou entered the room. Originally a few guards had told her that it was unwise to have them do so. She told them that there was no security better than her. 

“Take that seat,” Hinaai ordered. She walked to the other edge of the table, pacing around the cell and piercing the walls and floor with her eyes. Finally she rounded the back of the cell again, closed the door to lock them in, and turned back to the hopefully sitting prisoner. 

“Enmei Chikyo. Codenamed prisoner X666-333, due to the crime of open rebellion and sacrilege against the Seireitei.” Every word Hinaai spoke was launched with a somewhat biting tone. It was as if she resented the...thing that sat before her. She strode to the end of the table and turned to face Chikyo. “I’m only the last in a number of meetings you’ve had recently. Should I be flattered or offended?” 

Another drag of her cigarette was taken before Hinaai dropped it to the floor and stomped it out. 

Hinaai did not respond to a thing the prisoner said, even if questions were asked. She leaned on the other end of the table, cigarette smoking and mind pondering what was requested. Strange, was the Soutaichou’s first thought. Stupid, came the next, and before any words could be said, she barked out a harsh biting laugh. 

Delicate fingers plucked the cigarette from her mouth, and Hinaai turned fully to face Chiyo. “You have some balls despite your transformed state, Enmei. But why would I grant you that request? You openly rebelled, consumed your zanpakutou, and who knows what else.” Hinaai paused for a moment, thinking. “Maybe I should make this clear for you.” 

The Soutaichou placed her cigarette down on the edge of the table. It teetered on the edge. One manicured nail was raised just above it, poised to ruin the balance. 

“Shinigami are balancers. Our order was created to ensure that the flow of souls from one realm to another is achieved, through any means necessary. You went directly against that grain by destroying your zanpakutou, which we need to do our job, and then attempted to destroy us all. And for what? The Rukongai? You think the meager amount of wealth in the Seireitei can make it so more than a hundred billion souls can live well? 

“Your actions are childish. Your reasoning is flawed. Your power, while great, is not that of a shinigami. You are not a shinigami, Enmei. You apart of this squad not by my order, but by that of my own bosses.” 

The nail came down, knocking the cigarette off of its precarious perch. “You are something that harms the balance, Enmei Chiyo. Why would I allow you to ever join my squad in full?” 

“Enmei, you forget one important thing. You are a traitor.” That word was said with so much weight on it, it was a surprise the entire prison didn’t collapse then and there. “The men in my squad are not traitors. The men I have in my employ are not traitors. They don’t fight the grain, they don’t fight me. What trust can I put in a thing that consumed even their own zanpakutou?” 

And that was the end of it. Not of the argument, nor of Hinaai’s patience, but the simple root of everything. The Soutaichou took a deep breath and crossed her arms again. “The zanpakutou is what makes a shinigami, Enmei. It is the core of our principles, the life of our ideals, and the arm of our resolve. 

“Your heart is not in the right place. You wish to embark on some fantastic adventure where you save the world. You aren’t the first nor the last soul to do that. You won’t be the first nor the last to die doing it, either. You nod in agreeance with me, explain to me how I shouldn’t trust my own men, and do everything you can to get out of this cell. But your logic is flawed, because you don’t understand what it means to be a member of the Goteijuusantai. 

“And until you do,” Hinaai said, her arms lowering. The pressure that filled the room was light, like the caress of a lover. “you will never leave this cell freely.”

And then it became so heavy the table buckled and collapsed.

Hinaai wasn’t buying it. Everything about Enmei Chiyo was a lie. She had visited many shinigami lately, began talking about enemies unseen, and was beginning to weave a tale that fit her needs; a tale where she escaped this cell and was allowed to run amok in the Seireitei again. She’s dangerous, Hinaai now confirmed. There was only one possible outcome for the prisoner now.

“I will talk to the Central 46,” she began. Hope died on her next breath. “I will see that you are exec--”

The hellbutterfly stopped her. It landed on her ear, whispered words that caused her face to contort, and she gave one last look to the prisoner.

“That bastard said he had all that he needed.” Hinaai gave a scowl to the prisoner. “I don’t know whether you’re lucky or cursed.”

And with that she exited the chamber, slamming the door shut behind her.