The Butterfly Effect

Chapter Four: Galvanize

Galvanize: transitive verb, \ˈgal-və-ˌnīz\

1. to cause (a force that is capable of causing change) to become active
2. to subject to the action of an electric current, especially for the purpose of stimulating physiologically
3. to move to action; excite; startle

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Rukia smoothed her hands down the front of the dress. It was nothing like the design she'd planned, but she had to admit that it was very nice all the same. The fabric was heavy enough to feel comfortable, but light enough that it swished loosely where it fell around her knees. The high collar wasn't something she'd have initially chosen for herself, but it compensated for the lack of sleeves, feeling sufficiently modest overall, such that she wouldn't mind walking around in public in it.

It fit relatively closely about her until it reached her waist, where it floated away from her softly, and somehow, Ishida had known to include pockets—there was a deep one in either side of the dress, hard to see but easy to make use of. Rukia smiled at herself in the mirror. She wouldn't have thought she'd like the way she looked in white, but the deep purple stripes—one vertical from her left shoulder, right next to the seam, and the other sitting just beneath her bustline—balanced it well, preventing her from thinking she looked like a ghost, however fitting that might have been.

He'd even made her shoes from the purple, just ordinary flats, but she appreciated the thought.

A series of short beeps broke her from her thoughts, and she furrowed her eyebrows, reaching into the pocket of her dress and removing her denreishinki. Flipping it open with her thumb, she opened the message, noting that it was a command from the Seireitei.

Return to Soul Society for debrief.

She frowned. That was unusually terse. The bigger problem, however, was that she had no way of obeying the command. In her state of depleted reiryoku, she wasn't sure she'd be able to make the journey at all. What was more... she hadn't finished her mission yet.

Biting her bottom lip, she stared at the screen for several seconds, her thumb hovering over the button. Then, with a decisive click, she deleted it, shut the device, and returned it to her pocket.

Three polite knocks sounded on her door, and she stepped over to it, pulling it open to find Ishida standing there. "Ah, Rukia-san. Do I need to make any alterations?" He held a small tin in his hands, presumably a sewing kit, but she shook her head.

"No, it fits perfectly. You do really good work, Ishida."

He blinked at her, like maybe he didn't quite believe her, but ended up shaking his head. "It is nothing. If you are ready, however, we should depart soon. Urahara-san is testing something new in the basement, and I suspect he wants to enlist our help." His mouth pulled to one side.

"Right. I can go now."

He nodded, and stepped aside to let her precede him down the stairs.

"Ishida?"

"Yes, Rukia-san?"

"This pattern... it's similar to the one on your uniforms."

"The cross? Yes. It looks better that way." He pronounced the words unusually slowly, as if wary about something, a far cry from his usual brisk, clipped speech, and she turned back over her shoulder to note that he watched her with an equal amount of caution.

Rukia didn't know what to make of that. "I think so too," she agreed, and he immediately relaxed. "I don't think all white would have worked very well."

She felt a fine tremor under her feet, emanating upwards from below, and flinched. "How quickly does the next bus get here?"

"Ten minutes, but I think we can just wait at the stop, don't you?"