Yoji Mirai's mouth twitched slightly.
He didn't know why, but every single time his captain said something like "it won't take long" with that straight-arrow, no-nonsense face of his, Yoji's brain would immediately and involuntarily produce a vivid image of the man foaming at the mouth and keeling over on the spot.
Terrible. Absolutely terrible of me.
He shook his head and forcibly evicted the image.
In all honesty, after years of working together, Yoji had genuine respect for Rokujou Kensei. The man had the energy of an older brother from a classic story — the type who looked out for everyone under his roof and never made a production of it. Even toward a chronic slacker and professional corner-cutter like Yoji himself, the worst Kensei ever did was put on a stern face and say a few sharp words. Never anything more.
Yoji arranged his expression into something cooperative and attentive, stepped up, and stood at attention.
"So, Captain. What's this about? If Lieutenant Hisagi sent you to chase down my update schedule—"
He held both hands out, the portrait of helplessness.
"You know how it is. A writer's still got to eat. Hell Girl has basically no readers — the numbers are somewhere underground at this point. If I keep writing it, I won't even be able to afford the cheap stuff anymore."
At the mention of his lieutenant, a rare flicker of exasperation crossed Kensei's otherwise stoic face.
He shook his head slightly. "It's not entirely about that. Though... it does involve her, a little."
He looked back up, composure restored.
"You know tomorrow is the day the Shin'ō Academy graduates choose their divisions. Under normal circumstances, I'd be the one going in person."
He paused, appeared to weigh something for a moment, then said it anyway.
"Hisagi decided last minute that she wants to take a trip out to the West Rukongai tomorrow. And she specifically asked me to come along."
"Ohhhh."
Yoji let the syllable stretch out luxuriously. His eyes narrowed into two knowing slits as he stared at his captain in complete silence, letting the implications hang in the air between them.
So going on a little countryside outing with the lieutenant outranks recruiting fresh talent for the division. Got it. Noted.
Sure, Hisagi was a genuine prodigy — made lieutenant within two years of graduating, which was extraordinary by any measure. But how much of Kensei's decision-making right now was professional judgment, and how much of it was something else entirely? Hard to say. Impossible to say, really.
And besides — even if Hisagi was unavailable, the division still had a third seat and a fourth seat. There were at least two people who should be ahead of Yoji in the chain of command for something like this.
There was also the small matter of Captain Hirako having more or less warned him, not thirty minutes ago, to stay away from the Academy tomorrow. Running into him there would be its own special kind of nightmare.
None of this, naturally, made it out of Yoji's mouth. Every bit of protest and silent outrage was compressed and stored entirely within the subtle geometry of his narrowed eyes.
Kensei's expression didn't change. He had clearly seen this particular silent performance before.
He pivoted cleanly and placed another option on the table.
"If you'd rather not go to the Academy, that's fine. There's quite a backlog of administrative work piling up around the barracks."
He gestured toward the corner of the courtyard — the records office, its light still faintly burning at this hour.
"You can go relieve the third seat tonight and take full responsibility for it starting tomorrow."
Yoji's face did something complicated. Then his smile came back at full brightness, and he clapped himself firmly on the chest.
"Captain, no, absolutely not — listen, the third seat is a great guy, but you could shake three sentences out of him on a good day. You really want him to be the face of the Ninth for the most promising graduates in years? This is too important. Leave it to me. I will personally go and recruit— I mean, attract — some genuine talent back to this division. You have my word."
Administrative work. A mountain of paperwork stacked three stories high, and that was on a slow day. Just the stamping alone would destroy his wrist.
Compared to that, Hirako Shinji's death stare was practically a relaxing afternoon.
Kensei gave him a long sideways look, the contempt in it entirely undisguised.
"No need for geniuses specifically," he said flatly. "If we end up with a few more like you and Hisagi, the Ninth Division will be disbanded inside a decade."
Yoji had long since developed full immunity to that look. He was already turning toward the barracks, raising a hand as he went.
"Leave it all to me, Captain! I'll handle tomorrow's recruitment, no problem whatsoever!"
He picked up the pace. The faster he got to his room, the lower the odds of another "chance encounter" before sunrise.
He shoved his door shut behind him and finally exhaled.
"Made it," he muttered to himself, reaching up to start undoing the ties on his shihakushō.
Then his eyes drifted across the room, and his hands stopped.
In one smooth, quiet motion, he straightened up. His left hand drifted casually to his sleeve, brushing off dust that wasn't there. His right hand settled without a sound on the hilt of his Zanpakutō.
He turned slowly toward the darkest corner of the room, and began edging backward toward the door, one careful step at a time.
Shing.
He drew in a single clean motion. The blade swept a cold arc through the dim room, tip leveled directly at the shadow in the corner.
"Who's there?" His voice came out quiet and flat. "You've got some nerve, breaking into the Ninth Division barracks at this hour. Captain Kensei is still in the courtyard. Do you want to spend the night in a cell?"
He felt the door at his back and eased one heel behind him to nudge it open.
"Come out now and we can talk like adults. Wait for Kensei to find you, and the only conversation you're having is through iron bars."
Click.
The door eased open. A thin line of moonlight crept across the floor and fell directly on the shadow in the corner.
Sitting there was a small, round, extremely fluffy black shape.
It tilted its head.
"Mrow~?"
A black cat. Perfectly black, right down to its paws, with a pair of wide golden eyes that caught the moonlight like two coins. It lifted one small paw, stuck out a tiny pink tongue, and gave itself an unhurried lick, radiating complete innocence.
Yoji stared.
Then he slowly let out a breath and slid his Zanpakutō back into its sheath, his expression easing into something almost warm.
"Oh, thank goodness. Just a stray that wandered in..."
He did not, however, close the door.
Instead he threw it all the way open, turned toward the courtyard, and shouted at full volume:
"LIEUTENANT HISAGI! COME QUICK! THERE'S THE MOST ADORABLE LITTLE BLACK CAT IN MY ROOM!"
Are you kidding me.
That is not a stray.
Why is the young lady of the Shihōin household — Shihōin Yoruichi herself — in my room?!
They say where there's poison, the antidote is never far away. This was definitely a version of that principle.
The black cat froze mid-lick. Those golden eyes flickered through confusion, then landed squarely on full-blown panic.
"MRROW!!!"
She launched out of the corner like a black bolt of lightning, a streak of fluid, powerful motion that was genuinely beautiful in the moonlight—
And then a small figure dropped out of nowhere in the middle of the air and caught her.
"Oh WOW she's so CUTE! Where did you come from, little one? Are you lost? Come here, let big sis hold you~"
Lieutenant Hisagi Shuhei had appeared. She was still in a loosely thrown-on shihakushō, arms locked around the furiously writhing cat, pressing her cheek against the small dark head with complete disregard for the desperate protest.
The cat was kicking with all four legs, twisting violently, and shooting Yoji a look of pure betrayal over Hisagi's shoulder.
"MYAAA—!"
Yoji Mirai you absolute piece of—
"Is the little kitty hungry? Don't be scared, don't be scared! Big sis has lots of snacks in her room~"
Hisagi turned and carried the struggling cat toward her own quarters without a moment's hesitation. After two steps, she seemed to remember something, and looked back at Yoji with a radiant smile.
"Oh, Mirai! When I get back from my trip tomorrow, don't forget — two new chapters of Hell Girl. Two chapters, okay? Or else... hehe!"
"Yes ma'am! Two chapters, guaranteed! Have a lovely trip, Lieutenant!"
Yoji snapped to perfect attention, delivered a textbook salute, and watched with great solemnity as his lieutenant disappeared through her door with the loudly wailing cat tucked under her arm.
The door clicked shut.
The screaming stopped. Briefly. Then resumed, more muffled.
Yoji put his palms together and bowed twice in the direction of the closed door, murmuring quietly to himself:
"Bless her. Protect her. Whatever she's in there doing — protect her."
As far as he knew, not a single small animal that Lieutenant Hisagi had ever taken in had emerged from that room in full working condition. And this particular "stray" was the future Flash God, the head of the Shihōin clan, one of the most formidable figures in the entire Soul Society.
Probably fine. Almost certainly fine.
He shuffled back into his own room, shut the door, then pushed his wardrobe in front of it for good measure.
Only then did he lie down on his bed and stare at the ceiling with the peaceful expression of a man who had done all he could.
As sleep crept in at the edges, he thought he could hear something — faint, distant, coming from down the hall.
Muffled, increasingly pitiful cat sounds. The specific register of an apex predator experiencing something completely undignified.
It was honestly very soothing.
Yoji rolled over, smiled to himself, and slept like a rock.
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