The one thing that Rukia had found was a constant irritation when actually working with her adoptive brother, was that he continued to be protective of her regardless of her own wishes.

Something that made getting sensitive information out of him exceedingly difficult. In regular cases where her brother wouldn’t tell her something, she’d simply take a trip down to Soifon’s quarters and demand an explanation. For a master of stealth, counterintelligence, and secretiveness, Soifon was usually more than happy to subvert her Captain comrade.

This time, however, the scrutiny was placed on Soifon and her 2nd Division, so that possibility was ruled out. So unless Rukia wanted to run around and start asking questions far too loudly, Byakuya was her only option.

She walked behind the tall and refined man, having aged significantly in appearance since she’d once been running around with Ichigo and the gang. Where he had once look roughly early to mid-twenties, he now looked mid thirties with the presence of someone ten years his superior.

He had changed so extremely from the cold and precise person he’d once been, someone who’d tied himself far too tightly to a sinking ship, closing his eyes to the rising waters. Now, he was formidable in every sense of the word. It was more than just his power, which had increased along with the average Soul Reaper’s had—a decree from the Captain Commander himself to train as many Soul Reapers to be capable of at least releasing their Shikai.

It had been a massive undertaking, something that Shunsui had sacrificed a great deal of political power for in recompense to the whims of Central 46, but he’d done it. The dream of having each and every Soul Reaper reach Shikai had been farfetched, and they’d had to quickly change course to include teaching those who seemed incapable of reaching Shikai to be able to specialise in Kidō or learn the trade of the Onmitsukidō.

Rukia can remember how ludicrously proud she’d been when she’d managed to get every single one of her own Division to learn Shikai. The 13th Division was one of the most exclusive of the Court Guard, with the Captain themselves choosing each and every one of its members by hand instead of accepting in bulk like the 11th did, or the glorified contract work that the 12th called it’s ‘work-force’.

At current, the 13th only has 10 members, but each of them was a powerful force in and of themselves. Especially with how the power of the Court Guard had increased in general, and how the requirements for becoming a Lieutenant and a Captain had changed significantly. With the advent of the Blood War, far more Lieutenants found themselves capable of Bankai, and it wasn’t long before being a Lieutenant almost required Bankai.

The golden age of Soul Reapers had come. While they may have lost some of their most powerful combatants, and Soul Society still bled profusely from the death of the late Captain Commander and his Lieutenant, there had never been a point in Soul Society’s history where more powerful Soul Reapers had existed.

And Byakuya had changed to reflect that. He was the Captain of the 6th Division, he was the Noble Captain—instated within the Court Guards to remind them of the duties that they bore to the people, to use their inordinate power to aid those in desperate need. He was a clear bell in the raging storm that the other Captains represented, his sound piercing and ever-true.

“You need to tell me, Brother.” Rukia said again, her voice never leaving it’s conversational tone despite the insistence of her words, “I’m sure that the other Captains and Lieutenants felt it, and they are going to ask questions. I want to know just why the Onmitsukidō would bring a Blank into Soul Society.”

They walked through the brightly lit and extremely minimally designed corridors of the Kuchiki estate, their sandals making no noise as they crossed the light-coloured floorboards. Her brother didn’t respond, but he changed course ever so slightly towards a very particular part of the estate that they were both intimately familiar with.

After only a minute or so of walking at a mundane pace, they arrived at the sliding paper door of a room, which Byakuya easily opened and walked inside, sitting at the low table which already had two cups of tea sitting atop it’s surface. Rukia walked inside, sliding the flimsy door shut behind her and feeling the slight thrum of spiritual energy as the wards that secretly plastered the walls of this room activated.

She sat, easily drinking from the tea in her usual, hyper formal demeanour that she tended to share with her brother. Byakuya eyed her mutely, sipping from his own tea with such elegance that you’d swear that the tea simply disappeared as soon as it passed his lips.

“The Onmitsukidō have been acting strangely, as of late.” He began as he always did, with a short snippet of information to draw the mind before he began to speak more, “They have been acting on orders that were placed decades ago, those which Soifon herself had dismissed. Requests from the Court Guard are being fulfilled with seemingly no rhyme or reason.”

“Soifon had been denying at least half of the orders from the Court Guard for years, labelling them unnecessary or superfluous use of Onmitsukidō resources.” Rukia added, nodding, her brow gently furrowed, “How would she be fulfilling those orders now, after she’s already denied them?” Byakuya quirked an unimpressed eyebrow at her, making her feel distinctly like a child who had asked a silly question.

“I would have thought you would understand the workings of Soul Society’s systems by now, Rukia.” Byakuya stated with a lightly unimpressed tone, casting his gaze down on his much shorter sister, his long hair framing his already impressively intimidating face.

‘You’re the only one that would bother to do that!’ She didn’t quite have the stones to say it, knowing that logically he was correct, but few Captains had to understand the function of Soul Society like the Head of the Kuchiki family and the 6th Division Captain was required to.

“Regardless,” he said, releasing her from his gaze, “the Onmitsukidō never officially deny any request, thus every request stays open barring an extremely minimal few. There seems to be no defined process for what they are completing, which has sent administration into trying to find the numerous requests that have been denied and try to pin down a reasoning.”

“But why?” Rukia reiterated, “I can see that it’s throwing admin into disarray, but what are they doing? Soifon isn’t someone to start pulling missions out of a hat and send her people off on them. The Onmitsukidō might be cold-hearted, but they are anything but illogical.”

“Precisely.” Byakuya said in a rare moment of absolute agreement, “Central 46 has told us that the Onmitsukidō are currently reopening decades old missions due to the relative peace since the Blood War ended.” Rukia scoffed, and her brother didn’t even bother to give her an admonishing look, simply closing his eyes as he took a long sip of his tea.

“Why hasn’t Soifon spoken? Why is Central 46 speaking for her?” Rukia said, listing just the beginning of her questions about the baffling situation.

“We do not know. Soifon has not appeared at a Captain’s meeting since at least the start of the year, which you would not know as you have not either.” Now Byakuya did give her an admonishing gaze, his grey eyes looking down at her with expectation. She rolled her eyes, the small act of rebellion against her brother’s strict minded standards.

“I was training my Division, as I have been doing for at least a decade now.”

“And I have been doing so as well.” He countered neutrally, “However, you are capable of excusing yourself to attend an important meeting amongst your peers. Your Lieutenant can, at minimum, take command of training for the time you are away.” She raised an eyebrow at this, immediately halting the flow of Byakuya’s admonishment.

“Have you met my Lieutenant?” She asked, almost amused by her brother’s blunder. He turned his head to the side slightly, apprehension in his eyes.

“I have not. I do have my own Division to command, Rukia. However, I would have expected that you would choose your Lieutenant wisely, with responsibility and honour at the forefront of your decision.” She nodded, though the amusement didn’t leave her face.

“And it certainly was. He was one of two that have attained Bankai within my Division,” Byakuya nodded deeply, with his own Division hosting only three others than himself, “and he definitely meets the required level of responsibility, despite his clumsiness. However… his Shikai and Bankai made us question whether or not he should be transferred to the 11th Division.”

Byakuya sharpened his gaze, seemingly remembering just what she was talking about, and the incident that surrounded it. He gave a light nod, absolving her of her sins within his eyes, and continuing forwards.

“I have approached Soifon personally, and she has denied any ulterior motives, though she did speak quite carefully. She is not as trained in wordplay as Yoruichi was. Her obfuscation was too obvious to ignore, but it is hardly an admission to any other motive.”

Rukia contemplated the strange situation, pairing it with her brother’s insight. Byakuya Kuchiki’s social insight was something that you would be an absolute fool to ignore. Throughout his life he has dealt with more stone-faced merchants, officials, and family partners than Rukia could even count. He might be young, in comparison to the extremely long lives that some in the Soul Society have lived, but that was hardly a barrier for him. He had become the Head of the Kuchiki family at an age where she had been still only just coming into her own.

Soifon was not as easy to read as Byakuya made her out to be, only the extremely politically minded like her brother could ever possibly say that.

“They’re hiding a largescale operation.” Rukia surmised, and Byakuya nodded, having come to the same conclusion, “I don’t understand what they would even be looking for. The Onmitsukidō hold a nigh monopoly over Soul Society’s information, they hold all the power, what ploy could they possibly want to pull? Is the Blank just to throw us off balance?”

“They hold a monopoly on information, not power. The Shihōin hold some more power, but they have politically distanced themselves from the Onmitsukidō since Yoruichi left her Captain position, though they still train their new generations as they once did with Yoruichi. I have even heard that one of their youngest has surpassed Yoruichi’s progress when she was the same age.”

Rukia felt herself swallow involuntarily with the mere idea that there was going to be another Yoruichi walking around the place, but she decided to pass over the talking point. It wasn’t important right now, not yet at least.

“So you think they are making a political gambit?” Rukia posed, making the stern man sigh slightly, placing his cup back onto the table elegantly, exactly where he’d picked it up from.

“I cannot say. Regardless of my suspicion, it still doesn’t equate correctly. Soifon has been supremely uninterested in the shifting sands of political power since her instatement, and she still holds unquestionable power over the Onmitsukidō, so there hasn’t been a quiet change in leadership.”

“The Shihōin family then? Maybe they are pulling strings on Soifon, or Soifon is acting to defend her position from them.” Byakuya thought on the notion for a moment, which is a moment more than he would give any regular supposition. But he shook his head in dismissal of the idea, causing the curtains of his long black hair to shake elegantly as they flowed down the front of his immaculate Captain’s haori. The man had grown his hair out to an exceptional length, easily rivalling Rukia’s own, though likely longer due to the height he had over her.

“No, the Shihōin family has continued to allow for Soifon’s leadership over the Onmitsukidō and even some of the best that their family has to offer. They value practicality supremely. I have no doubt that they have had at least one member of their family that would be capable of rivalling Soifon in Shunpo, they have instead stated that they wish to produce a true heir to the Shihōin that can lead the Onmitsukidō without question of their ability. As of now, they still consider Yoruichi to be their greatest creation, and until they can produce someone definably greater, they will not return.”

“Student defeats the master?” Rukia questioned, “I guess it does make sense for a family built on the legacy of assassins and Shunpo masters. But…”

Rukia struggled to think for a moment, finding no real certain possibility besides some strange form of outside involvement, something that Soul Society and the Court Guard had been on high alert for since Aizen’s betrayal.

“No, I don’t think that they are going to be able to have one of their own match Yoruichi any time soon.” Rukia declared solemnly. She had seen some of what the woman had to offer, and even when she’d heard the stories of her extreme power, Rukia had known that Yoruichi hadn’t even scratched the surface of her potential. Not yet. “Are they, or someone inside the Shihōin family squirming under the thumb of their tradition?”

Her brother looked at her neutrally for a good while, longer than he had after her last proposition.

“I cannot say.” He intoned heavily after contemplating for at least a few more seconds, “We are working with too few of the pieces to understand the magnitude of this just yet. It is quite possible that you are correct, however.”

The slight praise he gave to her deduction gave a warmth to her cheeks that almost made her feel embarrassed. She was a Captain now, even having done an extremely impressive job of training her own Division, only just pulling in under her own brother’s results despite the difference in the sizes of their Divisions. But somehow, that vague praise was something that the overly taciturn man could use to bring her back to feeling like a fledgeling Soul Reaper that had only just learned to use Shikai.

But in that very next moment, she could almost feel her blood run cold within her veins, watching as her older brother looked to the side, out of the room’s window to view the various towers and eclectic buildings that existed within the walls of the Soul Society, even being able to peek over the walls that obscured the view of the Rukongai that laid beyond, perpetually in a state of disarray.

His face had changed from that brutally stony guise, one that was almost legendary even within the Captains, to one of visible consternation. His brow crinkling elegantly and his jaw clenching enough that she could see the slight definition of the muscles beneath his sharp features.

“You must be careful, Rukia.” He said, his voice so soft that it almost made her wonder if her sister had taken the same tone when she’d expressed concern for him. “I can try my best to keep you and this family safe, along with Soul Society itself but… I believe that not even Captain Commander Kyōraku quite sees the magnitude of the storm that is surely coming our way.”

He turned back towards her, his grey eyes showing the most genuine display of care that she’d ever experienced from the man, along with a small smile that only served to worry her further. He gently stood, leaving the room with barely a wake of air as he moved out of her sight, closing the door behind her before disappearing from her side, flash stepping hundreds of metres away within moments.

She sat in shock, nervously thumbing the hilt of her Zanpakutō as she slowly tried to comprehend what had caused her brother to act in such a way. Despite minutes of contemplation, she was left with nothing but a horrible, terrible dread that ate away at her stomach, mocking her as if it had the answer that she felt was right on the tip of her tongue.