Moondance [O]

[Takuya]

It was a marvelous night for a moon dance. The full moon was high in the sky, casting silver illumination down on the gently waving grass. The trees in the distance swayed quietly, the gentle pinks of the sakura trees glistening in mysterious light. Petals drifted away on the breeze, dancing like lost lovers in the light of the stars. The patio of the Thirteenth Division quarters was set staring out into this beautiful night, subtle wood and rice paper frames elegantly designed and tastefully formed. It was beautiful and quiet, silently standing in the night, both mysterious and welcoming.

Rika Takuya stood quietly on the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing. It was quiet, here. The Seventh Division quarters hadn't been like this. They had been stark, military, but just as welcoming. He had been closer to his fellow Shinigami there. Everyone in the Seventh Division held close bonds of camaraderie. Something about fighting together every day did that. The Thirteenth Division had it's honor, and it's pride, but they didn't fight like the Seventh. They lived for something different. He was having trouble getting used to it. It was just one of the many changes that had been happening for him.

Ever since he had unlocked his Shikai, learning Fuyu no Tsuki's name and harnessing her powers, he had felt different. Perhaps it was the noble side of his personality coming out, but he had been quieter. More reserved. His sense of honor and duty had changed, subtly. In some ways, he was softer than before. In other ways, he was far harsher. He patted his sword quietly. It was strange, to been in another division, to be a seated officer. It was stranger still to have an awakened spirit inside his sword, one that lived in him as much as it did apart from him.

He needed a bit of comfort, for once. He had never had trouble keeping to himself, but all these changes were beginning to get down on him. He didn't know if he could handle the duties and responsibilities of being the Fifth Seat of the Thirteenth Division. Historically, the Fifth Seats of several divisions had faced down foes that normally a Captain would handle. Some had died, some had survived, and been promoted. He was an important member of his division now, not some nameless soldier. He needed someone to talk to, besides his sword...

[hater]

It might have been odd, once, to witness one from the Twelfth Division wandering around the headquarters of the Thirteenth in the midnight hours of the night at one point. Then again, it might have been strange for anyone to be wandering around anyplace near such a quiet time, where most of the people would be sleeping. But restlessness filled the gentle soul of the noble Shinigami known as Kishoku, whose preposterous walk could almost be called a waltz. When he walked, his whole body swayed back and forth, causing a soft rustle of fabric as he made his way around the realms.

Don't be mistaken; the movements were not gaudy. They were not meant to attract attention. In fact, in the movements the boy seemed natural, as if he were within his own element, a creature all of his own. And perhaps he was... it wasn't often that his kind were born into the realms of Seireitei instead of brought there through the Soul Burial process with which was the prime duty of the Shinigami. In addition to this casually dance-like canter, the symbol of the Hitogoroshi noble house could be seen located upon the boy's garments, the Shihokusho. He was no ordinary Shinigami: not many could claim his noble heritage.

Perhaps it was this eccentricity that made him feel so comfortable at the times of night, when the moon was just right, hanging within the sky as if it had nothing else to do but simply light the way for the careless, the forlorn, and the insomniac. Moving his way through the shadows of the night, it would be then that the man's dark eyes would find themselves gazing towards a patio, where a nameless individual would be gazing longingly at the moon, a sorrow within his own eyes. But not only sorrow hung around the man; the stench of power surrounded him as well, practically crackling even though he would be doing nothing to call it forth. Such men were common within the realms of the Noble Families, but to find it here, within the division headquarters of the Twelfth, the young man found himself suddenly drawn towards this person who he had never met. What was so different about him...?

With the question still in mind, Kishoku would continue his gaze at the man for just a moment more, before restoring his sight to the paths before him and beginning his gentle walk again.

[Takuya]

Rika Takuya closed his eyes, feeling the circulating currents of death all around him. The essence of existence was strong, all around him, filling him up with each breath. The soul. Every spirit in the Seireitei and in the vast wastes of Hueco Mundo was, in reality, dead. And yet, without this dead soul, a human being could not live. One could argue, with the great power only the dead could acquire, that human beings were the ones who were truly dead, and that the Shinigami and fallen souls of the Hollow were the only ones who were truly alive. Sometimes it seemed like his life was far more real than anything else he could have ever experienced.

His eyes alighted on a figure strolling the path. He noted immediately the unique symbol of the Hitogoroshi Clan on his Shihakusho. So he was a member of one of the Four Noble Houses of Shinigami, the greatest of the aristocracy, far above the minor noble houses, like Rika. The boy was walking the path, strolling through the moonlit darkness. He supposed he couldn't blame him for wandering into the Thirteenth Division territory. It was a commonly held fact that they had the most beautiful and relaxing area in all of Seireitei, built with grassy fields, a small forest nearby, and the trickling of gentle streams. There was a reason they were the owners of the Shinigami General Room, and it was the Thirteenth's eye for aesthetics.

He watched in silence as the boy continued strolling on his path. Feeling out with Reiatsu, Takuya detected that he must be an unseated Shinigami, or at least a very low seat. His reiatsu was weak, but refined, flowing immaculately. He must have been a master manipulator, with such finely tuned reiatsu. It glided through his body, rather than flowed, drifting with only the slightest of ripples to disrupt the perfectly organized system of paths. Takuya nodded. Here, indeed, was a kindred soul in the way of the Demon Arts. He vaulted smoothly over the railing, glancing from the man to the moon. He tapped Fuyu no Tsuki, and she whispered in assent.

“Hitogoroshi-sama.” Takuya inclined his head to the noble, affording him a minor respect. Militarily speaking, the boy should be bowing to him. Even nobility couldn't fully cancel out the military hierarchy of the elite Gotei Thirteen. However, Takuya felt he should pay a little customary respect to the station the boy's blood afforded him. It was simply the way of the Seireitei, and among people who never die, respect and tradition were paramount in importance. “What brings you out here?”

[hater]

It only made sense, of course, that the young man's continual gaze upon the figure on the patio would draw attention to himself. Even as the Hitogoroshi began his casual walk forward once more, he would sense the movement from the balcony towards his direction. Ignore the first instinct that flooded his body; defend!; the shinigami would simply allow his eyes to move towards the corner, glancing at the sudden appearance of the Shinigami that he had just been viewing. The tiniest of smirks, turning the corners of the mouth upwards but slightly, would fill Kishoku's face as he was greeted by the other shinigami.

"Blessings of the evening to you, Shinigami." Noting the small nod, Kishoku would turn his body to the barest minimum and bow simply, bringing his body into a 45 degree angle, holding the position for the merest of moments before returning to his normal standing. As a member of a Royal Noble house, it was all the respect that he could afford to show somebody not also of a Noble house's birth, no matter how their energy danced in the light of the silvery moon that hung suspended within the atmosphere, where not a cloud existed to blemish or cover those here with darkness.

When the inquisitive Shinigami questioned where Kishoku was heading, the smirk that had crossed the man's face would appear once more, and he would speak, the noble arrogance that befell the speech of most of the members of the Noble houses coming out clearly; "Rest is a cruel mistress, able to dole out her gift of sleep or withhold it at a whim. It would seem as if tonight, I have earned the withholding of her gift, and as such, you will find me out here upon your midnight stroll."

Pausing for a moment, a more cursory glance towards the other Shinigami would prompt further speech from Kishoku. "And yourself? It would be within my guesses that you are not on patrol. If you had been, you would not have been simply resting upon the patio; no, someone of your strength would not dare be caught being lax with their duties. So what is it, then? Come, I invite you to share my walk with me, and you may tell me all about it." With that said, Kishoku would begin his stroll once more, fairly sure that the other Shinigami would come. After all, who but another member of a Royal Noble house would dare to risk incurring the wrath of the Hitogoroshi?

[Takuya]

He watched as the boy returned his brow, and he repressed a slight quirk of his mouth. He was surprised that the boy, too, could afford to offer him such an admission of respect. He was used to being ignored by the members of the Four Great Noble Houses. Aya-sama was the only one who had ever spoken to him with the direct equality two Shinigami of similar ranks shared. She had been the exception, he knew, rather than the rule. It was refreshing to see a healthy respect for power and position aside from birth, though Takuya would never be so arrogant as to say that. He smiled cordially, standing straight and tall, as his station demanded.

“I see...” Takuya said, listening to the colorful speak the man produced. It was common, he supposed, in the higher echelons of society, to talk in such a roundabout manner. The truth of the fact was that he was suffering from a case of restless insomnia, and had decided to talk a walk through the Seireitei in order to relieve himself of some of his restlessness. The only difference was he said it in a far larger number of words than required. Takuya nodded quietly. “Well you have my condolences, Hitogoroshi-sama. A sleepless night is never a pleasant experience.”

“Myself?” Takuya frowned lightly. “Indeed, I'm not on patrol, not this night.” He fell into step beside the other Shinigami easily. He was used to such actions. The house of Rika was too prominent to ignore clan politics, but too small to disregard them, so he had mastered the art of speaking to his political betters. For his own good, Shun had said, and Takuya had to grudgingly admit that he was correct. Too often he had to rely on this now-instinctive knowledge of minor submission demanded by the Noble Houses.

“Sleep is evading me as well.” Takuya admitted. “I have difficultly sleeping in the new barracks. I have only recently transferred into the Thirteenth Division, and I'm still adjusting to the customs of a fresh division.” He kept to himself the sense of restlessness that rested deep within his soul, the one that only increased with every battle he fought. It seemed like the only cure was battle, but the cure itself was the drug. He craved it, even if he didn't realize how much his soul demanded more of it...

[hater]

With the other shinigami falling in line with Kishoku's steps, the noble man would keep his face turned ever so slightly towards the other Shinigami, so as to appear to be listening. In truth, even though the man before him was speaking, Kishoku's mind was a million miles away, running through all the different things that had happened to him lately. It was these scenarios that was most likely the cause of his insomnia, but it wasn't something that he was going to bother the other Shinigami with. It was from this watching that the picture hit him; Kishoku had seen this man before! Of course, it was obvious! He was a member of one of the minor noble houses, the Riku clan. How had Kishoku allowed himself to miss that?!

Berating himself silently, for he had been trained to ensure that he could recognize members of the other clans so as not to offend them, Kishoku would return his full attention upon the other Shinigami just in time to catch the last bit of his statement. "Ah, yes, I could see how that would be a problem. I still have trouble at times adjusting to the barracks life over life in the manor. It is... different." He wasn't going to suggest the fact that he missed his soft linen beds or the servants bringing him whatever meals he had wanted. He wasn't going to mention that he missed his mother, the one being who had ever truly cared for him. He was not going to mention that he was a worthless and arrogant snob.

"It is strange, indeed. I am very much unused to being within the Twelfth Division. Calculations and experimentation... the careful deduction of reason and logic. I do enjoy it, but it is so very different from what I am used to." Chuckling softly, Kishoku would see out of the corner of his eye some movement. Turning his whole face to it, he'd see a bird splashing inside of a fountain which was projecting water high into the air, even at this midnight hour. It brought a smile to his face; to see such beauty was rare indeed.

"So, you are of the Riku Clan, if I am not mistaken. Perhaps you are... Takuya?" Grasping at straws, Kishoku would only hope that he had it correct.

[Takuya]

“Heh, yes.” Takuya said. “It's quite different from living at the clan home, I agree.” He himself had experienced his own difficulties, long ago, transitioning from life as a noble student to life as a simple member of the Gotei Thirteen. One had to learn to accept that they were a subordinate, not a commander, because the leaders of the Seireitei would certainly not indulge a noble child to think he had any true authority within the Thirteen Court Protection Squads. The proper admission of respect, of course, was expecting, but the Noble Houses were Shinigami before they were nobles, and they were expected to abide by the same codes of conduct as any Rukongai peasant recruit.

“The Twelfth Division?” Takuya repeated, smiling quietly to himself. He had hung out with members of the Twelfth in the bar before. They stood on a border of eccentricity. On one end was the perfect party-goer, on the other a psychopath. He had quickly learned which was which and steered clear of certain members. It was a place that seemed to be the perfect haven for the misunderstood intellectual, even if the one who couldn't understand them was actually their own self. “That's an interesting choice, Hitogoroshi-sama. Were you assigned, or did you pick that division yourself?” He wondered if he'd pulled any strings to get into that division. He listened with a neutral expression as his comrade began putting pieces together.

“I am.” He said, with a gracious nod, as the man finally figured it out. “Rika Takuya, Fifth Seat of the Thirteenth Division, son of the Rika Clan.” He was impressed. He didn't know if the boy had just been casting randomly or if he had known before they even set eyes on one another, but it seemed either way the boy had a good eye for details. He continued to stroll by his side, wondering what turn the conversation would cast in next. He had no idea why his name was spreading so well thoughout the Gotei Thirteen...

[hater]

"You may call me Kishoku-san, if you would prefer." It was very rare that a member of a Royal Noble House would allow another person the right to call them by their name instead of by the name of the house, but it seemed to the young aristocrat that he needed a friend, and that this member of a weaker, less powerful house would be able to present him with that. Feeling quite indulgent, Kishoku would then deign to continue answering the questions that the other shinigami had brought to his ear.

"I was actually assigned here. My family has not had a member in the Twelfth for a very long time. It was... suggested... to me that I should take that role in order to ensure that our presence was more widely felt within the realms of the Gotei 13." The slight emphasis on the word "suggested" made sure that the other shinigami be aware that it was no suggestion, but rather the forceful hand of the noble boy's father that had placed him within the hallowed realms of the brightest scientific minds of Seireitei.

"And yourself? You mentioned that you've just transitioned between Divisions. What was the purpose behind such an action? It seems as if you are uncomfortable in your current spot. It seems strange that you would consider a change when you were more pleased with your other spot." The question hung within the air; actual curiosity stirred within the mind of the eccentric noble, something that he had not actually felt for a long time. A budding sense of camaraderie bubbled underneath the surface of Kishoku's skin. Could it be that for the first time in his life that he might have a friend?

[Takuya]

“Kishoku-san it is then.” Takuya dipped his head graciously. He wondered why exactly the noble was making such an allowance, but he wasn't one to deny them such a simple request. He listened attentively. So the boy had been assigned to the Twelfth, and his family had decided that he should remain there to better diversify the influence of the Hitogoroshi Clan throughout the Gotei Thirteen. It made good political sense, and it was characteristic of the way the individual lives of members made no difference to the overall well-being of the clan. Takuya nodded again.

“I see... You should allow yourself, nonetheless, to try and enjoy whatever unique aspects the Twelfth offers to your duties, however. In my experience, every division has something new and different it can offer to you, even if it feels unfamiliar.” He was speaking from experience, of course. He didn't mind the Thirteenth, really. It was actually quite enjoyable. Still, he was having trouble shaking the thoughts of the Seventh as his home. He had spent many years in the Seventh Division, slowly honing his skills.

“I did not ask for this transfer.” He said frankly, turning his cerulean optics to his new associate for a moment. The boy seemed sincere enough. There was no harm in continuing. Takuya turned his calculating eyes back to face the dark path before them. “Upon my re-evaluation, it was deemed that I had progressed enough to be elevated from Eleventh Seat to Fifth Seat. The upper echelons of the Seventh Division are quite full, while Thirteenth Division was suffering from a lack of higher seated Shinigami. As such, I was transferred to help fill in the difference in power.” It was a fairly succinct explanation. The Gotei Thirteen was not kind of merciful, nor was it expected to be. You were sent where you were needed, not where you wanted to be.

“You will find, I'm sure, that the Twelfth Division has much to offer. We must make the best of what we are given, ne?” Takuya continued to stroll on sagely. His time in the Seventh Division made him alert, but in his heart he knew there would be no Hollow attacks in the heart of the Seireitei. “The Gotei Thirteen does not consider the dreams of its individual soldiers, only our duty.”

[hater]

"Ah, but you speak but the truth," Kishoku said to the man's final statement. "It is most likely wise that they do not do such; for if every dream had to be taken into consideration, what would happen whenever something needed to be done? It is the duty of those born into power to use that power for the sake of others, not for the sake of him or herself. To do otherwise would mean that we have failed in our charge to protect." It was quite a simple philosophy, but one that the aristocrat still had a bit of trouble swallowing. It felt strange to give of oneself for others, especially when they did not know what you were doing and could not offer whatever assistance or thanks for the jobs that the Shinigami performed.

"You have a kind heart, Rika Takuya. It is quite surprising; there are not many of your kind, who would give of themselves so selflessly and without complaint. You are quite correct. I am sure that the Twelfth will have plenty to offer one such as myself; at least, I could only hope and dream." Chuckling a bit, Kishoku would realize that the two had come to the borderlines between the Thirteenth Division's gated walls, which would actually lead into the Twelfth. It seemed as a shock; the boy had not been so aware that they had covered so much ground so quickly.

Glancing towards his compatriot, the noble would say, "Would you care to continue with me? I am not sure how busy you are, but please do not let fear of my station bully you into doing something that you are not comfortable or interested in. It is simply that, for once, I have enjoyed the company of another individual; something that was not afforded to one of my birth. Plus, it is a comfort to have someone so much more powerful near me, in case something were to go wrong." It was dumb to think that something would go wrong within the sanctuary that was Seireitei, but things had happened before, and Kishoku was sure that they would some time. Hopefully the other would not read too much into the words; they were most definitely not meant as a threat.

[Takuya]

“Yeah...” Takuya said quietly, walking along the path. The trees on one side swayed peacefully in the night breeze, their rosy petals drifting idly on the wind. The son of the Rika clan nodded to himself. “It isn't often I hear that said out loud, even if we all know it in our hearts. It's good to be reminded now and again why we truly submit ourselves to this duty, year after year.” And it had been years, for Takuya, many long years of plying his duty as required of him by his superiors. He had never questioned it out loud, but many nights he had sat alone, wondering about the real meaning of his duty.

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow when Kishoku spoke again. A kind heart... That wasn't a sentiment he was used to. It certainly wasn't the normal descriptior that was usually assigned to him. Most of the time, it was something about his ruthlessness or thoroughness in executing his duties. “It's nothing, really, Kishoku-san. I owe my life, as it stands here today, to the Shinigami of the Gotei Thirteen, and their excellent adherence to their duty. To do anything less in my capacity as a Death God would be an insult to those who've protected me up to this point.” He could only wonder what would have become of him if he'd received the Soul Burial just a little later. Would he have passed into the dimension of the Hollows? It was something that had always bothered him.

“Of course, Kishoku-san.” He said, nodding graciously. “I have no obligations, and like I said, sleep doesn't come so easily to me.” In all honesty, a walk would probably be good for him. He continued to walk, passing through the gate with his new associate at his side. He quirked an eyebrow at the next statement. “I don't think anything can happen within the walls of Seireitei, Kishoku-san. There hasn't been an uprising in over three centuries.” He smiled lightly, looking around the Twelfth Division courtyard warily. It certainly seemed different from the Thirteenth's. “I can't imagine what would compel a man to rise up against the Gotei Thirteen.”

[hater]

"Idiocy." Even as he spoke the words, Kishoku found himself pondering whether such was truly the case. After all, who knew what would drive someone to go against the wishes of the Gotei 13? Their strength was certainly something to be feared; but if you had enough power, would duty and respect be enough to hold one to an ideal? Was that why there had been rebellions? Insurrection? Power in the hands of someone who would use it for their own selfish goals? What made them different than other people?

It was impossible to say. Walking forward again, with the blessing of Takuya, the two of us would begin to make our way into the domain of the Twelfth Division, the place that had become his new home. The casual pace that the two would set would allow them to sightsee, for it made sense to the young Shinigami noble that Takuya had probably not been too often within these realms. While it might have been strange for a member of HIS division to wander into the Thirteenth, it would be almost forbidden for him to come here. This was the domain of the insane, and was something that only the unstable would manage.

"So, you have gained in power and got your promotion? Your strength must be immense then, indeed. Far superior to my own." Sighing, the young Shingami would gaze longingly at the moon. "It is my dream to one day become the powerful warrior that my family so desires; that is expected of me. But what am I, truly, if not worthless so far? I have brought nothing but shame to my family, and continue to bring that shame as I pour out all of my woes upon a stranger that I have just met once. You will have to pardon me. I assure you that it is not a common thing. For some reason, I just feel... comfortable... around you."

With a shrug, Kishoku would continue the walk, hoping that Takuya would not abandon him at the first sign of mental illness.

[Takuya]

“Heh. I suppose.” Takuya responded. Kishoku seemed sure in his conviction. That much was good, Takuya supposed, in a member of the Gotei Thirteen. To believe unerringly that only foolish idiots would break from the organization had to be a comfort. Takuya didn't know. He couldn't help but wonder what sort of motivations would make someone who had given their life to fighting against the Hollow break away from the Thirteen Court Protection Squads. It didn't make sense, especially not for someone like a Captain, without a damn good reason. Perhaps they had been exiled, yet the Central 46 had claimed it to be rebellion. Such an action wouldn't be the first in the history of the Seireitei.

“Eh.” Takuya shrugged. “The difference in strength between us is merely as it is, Kishoku-san, not something that you should feel any shame about. I've been in the Gotei Thirteen for many years, diligently honing my powers. I'm sure if you're patient, what you seek will come to you. Strength doesn't come from wishing, but from time and training and experience. Give it a little bit longer, relatively speaking, and I'm sure you'd be able to fight me on even ground.” Takuya frowned. The words provoked a twisted desire in him. Why let him grow strong enough? He could crush him now and never worry about the challenge.

“It's good to have someone who will listen.” He said simply, brushing the thoughts from his head. They distracted him. They didn't feel like they were his own thoughts. They were someone else's, and not his zanapaktou's either. He chalked it up to the stress of his new position and ignored it. “Too often in noble families we may feel as though we have no one we can relax around. It's good to let free your concerns, if even into the ears of a stranger. I'm sure being a clansman of your position is stressful.”

[hater]

As the two Shinigami continued their walk, Kishoku listened to Takuya's insight; it was truthful and honest, unlike someone else who might have coated the words due to his position within the Royal Noble House of the Hitogoroshi Clan. Smiling casually at the perceived level of friendship that the boy had gained with the other Shinigami, Kishoku would feel as if a great weight as lifted off of his shoulders; as if, even though he still carried the great burden of who he was, it was lessened now that it was shared with another person.

"You are a great inspiration, Rika Takuya. I appreciate your coming with me tonight." Still, the Shinigami walked forward until, with a shock, he found that his eyes were gazing upon the barracks that were his home. With a sudden rushing feeling, exhaustion slammed down upon him, as if the only thing that had been keeping him awake were his fears and doubts that no doubt were a plague upon his mind. Finding that he could now barely keep his eyes open, the noble Shinigami would turn towards Takuya and speak.

"I appreciate you coming with me today; it was been, perhaps, one of the nicest events in my entire life. However, I think that our walk here should come to an end fairly soon. Would you care for me to escort you back to your own quarters? It shouldn't take too long, and I wouldn't mind, if you desired it..." Leaving the message hanging out, the aristocrat would wonder if the other would accept, or if Takuya would allow him to go to bed. He hoped it was the latter, as tiredness was overcoming all sense of reason and respect, but if the other asked, the Hitogoroshi would definitely walk the other back for having come with him so far tonight.

[Takuya]

“Not at all, Kishoku-san.” Takuya bowed his head graciously. He didn't mind in the slightest. He liked to talk moonlit walks, and he certainly wouldn't reject the opportunity to better get to know a stranger along the way. He stretched, scratching the crown of his head and looking with a smile at his new friend. He tapped his fingers idly against the hilt of his zanpaktou. It was getting late, and he was, secreltly, eager to resume communication with his sword. There were things yet she had to tell him...

“That's quite alright, my friend.” Takuya said tactfully, as his new associate offered to escort him back to his quarters. It was amusing, really, to think that he would need an escort. If anyone had needed one, it had been Kishoku-san, and that duty had been fulfilled well and honorably. He felt that the time they were spending together was wearing thin, and he wanted their relationship to remain built on cordial grounds. Takuya shook his head, still smiling. “I think I can find my way back quite alright, thank you.”

“I bid you goodnight, Hitogorshi-sama.” Takuya said, bending at the waist and giving the noble a respectful bow. “I hope you find some rest tonight.” With that, he would straighten, turning and walking away into the light. His hakama swished as his sandals tapped against the path, swiftly taking him back to the quarters of his own division. He smiled, stretching and lifting the sheath of his zanpaktou. It was time, he thought, for bed...

[Exit]