I remained home for a few days. The written final exams at the academy were over, and it would be a few more weeks before we started our duties as substitute shinigami. I locked myself in my room, allowing no one to come to me—neither my mother nor Yamachi, nor Byakuya. I wanted to be alone, to lie in bed with my broken heart and stare at the ceiling.
I knew I was one of those who needed this. I needed my pain and sorrow; I had to allow it all to deal with the situation. Over and over, I replayed the final conversation with Gin in my mind, trying to understand what he had gotten himself into. Deep down, I felt that he must be involved into something wicked. I tried to trust him as he had asked me to, yet it was incredibly hard for me to ignore my uneasy gut feeling.
Additionally, I was still trying to make sense of the fact that both my mother and some of my friends had memories I did not have, and I must never let anyone know. A wave of guilt always hit me when I thought about having told Kisuke everything. I was sure he would keep his word and not tell anyone, yet I had a lingering fear. What if he confronted Gin?
Occasionally, I pondered whether I should just tell Kisuke that it was all a joke or that I had been mistaken, but I knew he wouldn't buy it—especially since he had seen the scar on my back.
I would just have to ask him to continue to keep silent and let the matter rest. I sighed. I sighed often these days.
It took a whole two weeks before they all stood at my door: Yamachi, Byakuya, Rangiku, and Kisuke. They forced me to come with them, out into the fresh air by the river, and I relented. It would probably be good to be out a bit with friends. I was quiet and listened to their stories.
They never directly addressed me, talking amongst themselves, and I caught up on what I had missed in Seireitei. Kisuke had spent a lot of time with Captain Yoruichi Shihoin and told us that he had been raised by her family. I had wondered a few times about his family situation, but he seemed to be one of those not born in the Soul Society. So, he was one of those who had come from the world of the living to the Soul Society with death, apparently at a very young age.
As a child, he had been taken in by the Shihoin family, and he had gotten along great with Yoruichi from the start (I was a bit offended that he had never told me, considering how much I admired her!).
Furthermore, rumors circulated that Kirio Hikifune, the Captain of the 12th Division, was planning to resign from her position.
"How did she come to that decision?" I asked, and for a brief moment, my friends stared at me in surprise. It was my first utterance since we had sat down on the lawn by the river.
"They say she got promoted, but she's waiting until they find a worthy successor," Yamachi explained in a know-it-all tone, as if he had firsthand information.
"Maybe one of us will be her successor," he joked, and I noticed Byakuya's shoulders droop. I knew an incredible pressure weighed on him. The world expected him to succeed Ginrei Kuchiki. After the academy, we would work as novice Shinigami for a year before being assigned to different divisions and ranks through exams and observations.
Yamachi continued to speculate about which divisions we would all become captains of.
"Exactly, the three of us will be captains, and both of you will be our vice-captains," he said to Rangiku and Kisuke, who exchanged meaningful glances. Even Byakuya frowned, but I laughed.
Yamachi knew better than any of us that he had no chance of becoming a captain. Not only because he lacked the necessary Reiatsu — he simply had no ambition to become a great warrior. He was content with passing the academy and theoretically joining the Gotei 13. It was something he wanted to prove to himself, and that was all that mattered to him. His main focus was on our family's business.
I was grateful for his jokes, knowing that it must have taken a lot for him to poke fun at himself. Something he wouldn't have done for just anyone.
--
I returned to the academy, feeling like I had slowly processed both the Break-up and the traumatic experience with the Hollow. It felt good to spend time with my friends and immerse myself in training again. Day by day, I missed Gin less, and the memories of that dreadful Thursday in Rukongai began to fade.
Kisuke wasn't exactly thrilled when I asked him to forget about the matter. Shortly after my return to the academy, I sat in his research lab, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.
"He asked me to, and I trust him," I said.
"Despite everything?" Kisuke's question carried a certain undertone, and I avoided looking at him.
"Yes, despite everything."
"And even though you trust him, you haven't told him that you told me, haven't you?"
I was frozen, feeling caught. I lowered my gaze and struggled within myself, finding it hard to put it into words.
"Kisuke... I simply ask you to keep it to yourself, alright?"
He said nothing but nodded eventually and stood up.
"But remember... if you do want to continue investigating, I'm here for you," he added. Without thinking, I turned around and hugged him briefly but warmly.
"Thank you." I left him, my face flushed.
--
I had gone through my grief and was slowly recovering. I spent a lot of time with our small group, which had become like a second family to me. When our year as substitute shinigami began, I threw myself into the work.
Gradually, I was becoming my old self again.
"It seems you're doing better," Kisuke remarked after a few weeks, gazing at me with his dreamy smile, which I had grown fond of seeing on his face. I could hardly admit it to myself, but little by little, he had become my closest friend. I never would have believed that anyone could rival Byakuya for that position, and yet by now, I couldn't say with whom I got along better.
I had known Byakuya since I started to walk, but Kisuke and I understood each other in a way I could hardly describe. We were on the same wavelength, had the same energy, and understood each other without words.
The memories of Gin faded more and more, allowing me to eventually view the situation objectively. I began to realize that he was probably my first love, but we were destined to part ways from the start.
For even if Rangiku wouldn't admit it, I sensed that she secretly harbored feelings for him. The fact that she was incredibly angry and hurt that neither Gin nor I could tell her the reason for our breakup made me suspicious. On one hand, she was worried about both of us, but I knew it also bothered her that we were keeping something secret from her. Even now, even though we were separated.
She tried to bring up the topic a few more times, but I asked her to let it go. After a while of being somewhat distant, we grew closer again.
One evening when she returned to the room very late, she almost burst into tears when I asked her where she had been wandering. I knew immediately that she must have spent time with Gin.
"It's okay, he's your family... he was even before our relationship, and I knew it would remain that way afterward. You can mention him, really, it's alright."
Even though it pricked me a little each time, I felt it was for the best. With each passing instance, the pain lessened when she spoke of him.
--
During those months, I spent a lot of time in the training rooms, preparing for the practical exam that would categorize us into various ranks at the end of our time as substitute shinigami, finally allowing us to truly join the Gotei 13.
Many times, I trained together with Kisuke. Yamachi had a lot of family matters to attend to, and both Byakuya and Rangiku preferred to train alone.
I worried about Byakuya, who seemed a bit too intense and was determined to meet his grandfather's expectations. Anything below the officer ranks would be a disgrace for the Kuchiki family—a notion I found utterly ridiculous. However, I kept this opinion to myself and tried to encourage Byakuya.
Rangiku had different concerns—she didn't want to lag behind us. She had spent an extra year at the academy compared to the rest of us since her performance was weak at the beginning. Now, she was highly motivated to keep up with us.
She knew that, except for Yamachi, all of us were better fighters than she was, and this scraped at her pride. On some days, I only saw her in the evenings when she came to our shared room to sleep. She seemed incredibly exhausted and still not quite satisfied with herself. I tried to keep an eye on her, but I was quite absorbed in my own training.
One day, as Kisuke and I were sparring, and I half-threw him through the wall, a soft clapping sound filled the air, and I turned around.
It was Captain Yoruichi Shihoin.
"That's quite pathetic, Kisuke. I thought I had trained you a bit better," she cursed and hurled Kisuke back into the wall from which he was just picking himself up.
"Now, let me catch my breath," he grunted but put on a smile shortly after. I had only seen Yoruichi a few times from a distance, but now she stood right next to me.
"Who trained you?" she asked me, raising an eyebrow, and I shrugged. "Me? Well I guess I did myself" I said meekly, and she tilted her head.
"Oh, this will be great." Her smile was wide.
That was the day Yoruichi began training me as well.
It was hard to contain my enthusiasm. She was so fast that I could hardly see her. She taught me Shunpo, and I absorbed every word from her, practiced every task to perfection, and got little sleep during this time. Kisuke had learned Shunpo earlier, and I wanted to catch up to him. Soon, the three of us were just blurry shadows playing tag with each other.
The task Yoruichi set for us was absurdly simple: We had to touch her. As simple as it sounded, the execution seemed impossible. Week after week, I tried, and then finally, the unbelievable happened:
I reached out for her, and she was gone, but I paused. It took a few seconds for Yoruichi to realize this and also come to a stop. Within a millisecond, she stood before me again.
"What, giving up already?" she asked with a sardonic grin, and I slowly opened my hand in front of her eyes. She stared in disbelief at the tiny white fragment in my hand and then checked her haori.
Indeed, a small piece was missing. I had caught her. Her expression was hard to interpret—it seemed like a mix of annoyance and pride.
That evening, like many before it, we enjoyed our downtime lying on the roof of the training room, gazing at the stars.
"Tell me, Yoruichi," I began at some point, and for a second, I felt like I had awakened Kisuke, as he startled a little.
"Mh?" the captain responded and then yawned heartily.
"You belong to the Shihoin family," I started, and I saw from the corner of my eye that she nodded, "but you don't act like it."
She remained silent for a while, then looked at me from the side.
"This just isn't my world. I don't believe that dining etiquette or the way I bow makes me a better or worse person. It's the deeds that count, not the way I wear my clothes or the name I inherited at birth."
I chuckled at this statement. It had always been the same for me.
"But why am I telling you this? You already know what I'm talking about," she added. I shrugged and sighed.
"But you're even the head of the family," I muttered, sensing a peculiar glint in Yoruichi's eyes. She was the first woman ever appointed as a noble clan head. Although my mother was currently the head of the family, she had never been appointed. She had merely taken my father's place after he died and would only hold that position until Yamachi was old enough to take over.
"We should place much more value on people's abilities and character and less on how or where someone was born. That's my opinion. But the old spirits of Seireitei are far from being ready for that. It will take a while before there's a real change."
--
We continued to train, but Yoruichi held back more and more. One day, she sheathed her sword and shook her head in disbelief.
"What's wrong?" I asked her, astonished.
"Your training is over," she said, and I furrowed my brow. She left without giving me any reason.
I ran after her, wanting her to explain what I had done wrong, but she left me wordless.
Disbelief and anger surged within me, and I began to smash the holograms of the training room with raw force.
I noticed Kisuke's gaze from the corner of my eye, but I didn't give him a chance to talk to me. I didn't want to vent my anger on him, so I avoided him until the end of our training.
It was only when we left the room that it burst out of me.
"What is this? Why is she arbitrarily ending my training? I mean, did I somehow offend her? Or did I perform too poorly? What is this supposed to mean?"
Kisuke beside me burst into laughter. I stared at him in astonishment, but he just grinned broadly.
"Akari," he began and wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye, "She can't teach you anything right now because you're actually too advanced for your current rank. The next step would probably be learning Bankai, but it's far too early for that."
Yes, at that time, I often underestimated my own strength. I had had a very ambitious training partner in Byakuya since childhood and often didn't realize that we had surpassed other academy students right from the start.
Slowly, I came to terms with the idea of toning down my physical training a bit and focusing on other things. Kisuke gave me the push I needed, reading a book on weather phenomena in his laboratory on a rainy Wednesday morning.
"You may win many battles with strength and skill, but you win most with intelligence. So, it never hurts to acquire as much knowledge as possible."
During the winter, I dedicated myself to many books. I delved into various topics, immersing myself in the world of the living as well as the Soul Society, languages, chemistry, physics, different cultures, and especially psychology.
My physical training consisted of less intense sessions, which I mostly spent alone. Kisuke was still learning from Yoruichi, so I was on my own.
I visited my mother frequently, supporting her and Yamachi with family matters or simply strolling through Seireitei, imprinting every corner, every corridor in my mind. I greeted people and observed the residents of our city in their everyday tasks.
I diligently carried out my assigned tasks as a substitute shinigami, but I was itching to get out. I wanted to finally enter the world of the living and vanquish real Hollows. It wasn't enough for me to carry things for other shinigami and sort documents. I was so looking forward to the exam in the summer that I could hardly wait.
We got a break for Christmas, but we had to help prepare the Christmas party for the Shinigami Academy.
We substitute shinigami always took care of such tasks, supporting both the academy and the already trained shinigami.
"You decorate here, I'll go back there," Rangiku declared, grabbed a box, and disappeared into another corridor of the academy. I hadn't been there for a while, as even though we still slept in the academy's quarters, we hardly used their facilities anymore (except for the training rooms, but they were a bit secluded).
I grabbed a few garlands from the cardboard box Rangiku had left behind, and something else fell out. I carefully bent down to pick up the greenery. It was a sprig of mistletoe. It had been right there in that corridor. The memory of my first kiss with Gin flared up in me as if it had happened yesterday, and I felt a familiar pain spreading within me.
A lump formed in my throat, and I had to take a deep breath to regain my composure. That was my low point this winter. Even though Christmas was beautiful, I couldn't help but think of the past holidays I spent with Gin. Of course, I had my family and my friends, but it was different. Something was missing. Above all, I longed more than ever to speak with Gin again. Since our breakup, we hadn't exchanged a word. I rarely saw him, and the only information I got about him was what Rangiku told me. But she still kept back a lot. I just wanted to ask him how he was doing—what he was involved in—and if I could somehow help him. I resolved to visit him once my exam was over and I could move freely as a shinigami within the Gotei 13 companies.
Shortly after Christmas, I discovered something that had escaped my notice in previous years. New Year's Eve was approaching, and like every year, I spent this evening with my family. I was just returning from my visit to Byakuya, who, as always, spent the evening with his grandfather, and strolled home when Yoruichi crossed my path.
"Hey, I've been looking for you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you, Akari. Listen," she began, crossing her arms.
"Kisuke will hate me for this, but I know it's actually important to him. He just unfortunately considers himself so unimportant that he never says anything."
I hesitated.
"Kisuke thinks he's unimportant? What do you mean?"
"Do you know that today is his birthday?"
With my mouth hanging open, I shook my head. I couldn't remember ever celebrating Kisuke's birthday. For some reason, I had assumed that his birthday was very uncomfortable for him since he never told us about it. But the fact that it was important to him and that he hadn't said anything due to pure self-doubt pained me. Guilt gnawed at my gut, and I slumped my shoulders.
"Poor Kisuke. What lousy friends we are," I murmured, and Yoruichi laughed.
"Don't be too hard on yourself; Kisuke is not easy either. Why don't you come by tonight, and we'll surprise him."
Said and done.
Rangiku baked a cake, Yamachi and I bought a gift, which we decorated festively, and for Byakuya we at least we managed to make him sign our card.
Only the three of us strolled to the Shihoin family estate. We wouldn't be able to stay long since Yamachi and I didn't want to leave our mother completely alone, and Rangiku had another appointment. I suspected with whom, but I didn't ask.
The Shihoin family estate was similar to ours but considerably larger. We were led through gardens and corridors by servants until we finally burst into a nicely furnished tea room.
Kisuke stared at us in disbelief for a moment.
"What are you doing here?"
"Happy birthday!"
"I hadn't spent such a cheerful evening in a long time. Kisuke eagerly indulged in cake and gifts with childlike joy, thanking us at least one time too many.
Rangiku was the first to bid farewell, and Yamachi jumped up as well. "I'll go ahead. Akari, just stay a little longer; I'll play some rounds of 'Kamm' with Mother." It was a card game that Yamachi and my mother loved, but I despised.
I barely noticed how late the evening had progressed when Yoruichi yawned and jumped up. "If you're not ending here, why not accompany her to her mother? I'm tired."
Kisuke looked at Yoruichi with a grin. "Forget it," he whispered and glanced at me sideways. "It's her birthday tomorrow, you should know. We always celebrate our birthdays together."
"You could have told me earlier, then we would've brought you a gift too."
Yoruichi laughed. "I don't need gifts. But maybe we can have a real celebration next year when all of you have joined Gotei 13."
I bid farewell to the two, and I had the vague feeling Kisuke wanted to say something more, but he refrained and said goodnight with an intimate hug. His scent was as familiar to me as that of my brother. Something about Kisuke smelled like home.
In the new year, I focused on my work and tried to make connections. Byakuya had given me this advice. For my small tasks, I should try to 'engage in conversation,' as he put it.
So, I tried to strike up conversations with as many different shinigami as possible and soon realized that it paid off. Some of them started asking for me by name to assign tasks, while others refrained from making me carry paperwork through the halls. It was good to make myself a little popular with them.
"Especially for your future career, it's practical if they already know you," Byakuya had said. One of his duties was also to regularly be seen by the shinigami so they remembered his face.
One evening, I got the task to bring a whole stack of documents to the Tenth Division and was pleasantly surprised when none other than my old friend Shin opened the door.
"Hey Akari, long time no see, how have you been?"
We chatted briefly. He had directly taken an officer rank after his exam, and there was quite a bit of work in the Tenth Division.
"Oh yes, the missions in the world of the living are fun, but this paperwork..." he rolled his eyes as he placed the stack of documents on a table that I had brought.
"You'll have your exam this summer too, right?"
We chatted a bit more before I made my way back. From that day on, I was called more often by the Tenth Division. The tasks I could do there were indeed very dull, but at least I could occasionally chat with Shin and listen to his reports on the external missions.
When spring arrived, I felt like I had read a hundred books, trained daily, and made a bunch of contacts. I managed to persuade Rangiku to cook together with me every other day, and soon we were back sitting on the grass, eating strangely concocted dishes. Even Byakuya and Yamachi found time again, and we would talk for hours about our training sessions and what we could expect in our exams. The days flew by, and I was so immensely looking forward to my exam that the others found it strange.
"I'm so nervous, I can hardly sleep, and you're looking forward to it?" Rangiku had said to me one evening, and I had just sighed.
"I just can't wait to finally do something meaningful. Carrying this paper back and forth and fighting holograms is not really fulfilling."
Especially when there were no real goals in training because apparently I couldn't learn anything sensible anymore, I added in my thoughts.
One of the first warm days of summer, exactly a week before our exam, lured us all back to our meadow. We ate, drank, and exchanged thoughts until one by one, people bid their goodbyes.
Rangiku jumped up shortly after Yamachi had left, and so Kisuke and I were left with the dirty dishes and leftovers.
We chatted until the sky had completely turned orange. Slowly, we collected the plates and cutlery, putting everything in Rangiku's large basket and wrapping up the blanket.
Silently, we completed these tasks, and I noticed Kisuke giving me sidelong glances. He took a breath as if he wanted to say something but then blew it out wordlessly. For a brief moment, I wanted to address him, ask him what he wanted to say, but something held me back. A strange feeling crept into my stomach, crawled into my chest, and made my fingers tingle. For some reason, I felt like I didn't want to hear what he had to say.
He grabbed the basket, and I took the blanket. We strolled slowly back to the sleeping quarters, and I feverishly considered what innocuous topic I could bring up. But Kisuke took a breath again, and this time the words came out.
"Do you know, Akari... today, a year ago," he began, and I raised my hand. I didn't want him to continue; I knew what happened a year ago today.
It was the day Gin broke up with me. The day I had told Kisuke about that mission in Rukongai and showed him my scar, which was barely visible now. Kisuke gave me a sad look and then gazed into the sky.
"When we met, I wanted to marry you," he blurted out, and I gave him an amused look. I hadn't expected this change of subject. Kisuke's cheeks turned red, and his grin widened.
"But back then, I didn't think we would actually get to know each other so well... and I still have the same wish."
I raised my eyebrows and laughed.
"You want to marry me?" I asked playfully, but he remained serious.
"Not immediately," he admitted, smiling. It was a sad smile.
The smile froze on my lips, and the tingling in my fingers intensified. I avoided his gaze. Wanted to say something, but no words came out of my mouth.
"You know... it's been a long time since I fell in love with you."
Now I felt the heat in my face too, probably making my cheeks glow red. My heart raced in my chest, and I felt like I no longer knew how to walk properly. My knees felt so weak that I expected to slump away any moment, but I kept walking silently. Looking down at the ground.
"But on the evening when I wanted to confess it to you... well, you were standing with Gin under that mistletoe," he turned around and realized I was holding my breath, but he smiled now.
He had had feelings for me for so long, and I hadn't realized it. I swallowed. The memory of his behavior at the beginning of my relationship with Gin flickered through my thoughts. He had withdrawn until I confronted him.
"I was sad at first," he continued, walking again, and I followed him, still silent.
"Then I was angry. Angry at myself for actually thinking that someone like you could ever be interested in me... in a romantic way. But when I saw how happy you were... I don't know, I could be happy again too. It wasn't nice, but it was somehow bearable. I wanted to be a good friend to you."
He stopped again, so I passed by him with two steps. Slowly, I turned around and noticed, to my horror, that his expression had changed. He looked serious, almost angry.
"But a year ago today... when you came to me with that scar... and told me what had happened, and he..." His voice now carried open disdain. "... just walked away, without explaining anything... When he left you after all that, with your pain and confusion, I swore to myself to protect you."
For a moment, it was silent, and only the wind lightly blew through my long, flowing hair. I held my breath.
"Kisuke... I..." I began softly, but he raised his hand, and his smile returned.
"You don't have to say anything about it now. You never have to tell me anything about it if you don't want to. I just had to get it off my chest. But if you prefer, just forget about it."
I wanted to say something, but no words came out of my mouth. Kisuke gave me a smile, and the way he looked at me took my breath away.
"Goodnight, Akari."
With these words, he continued on, and I didn't follow him.
That night, I had chaotic dreams of Gin and Kisuke playing chess against each other. Kisuke kept talking about not having his lucky hat on.
This dream made one thing clear to me: Kisuke had always been by my side, just like Yamachi and Byakuya.
He was one of those who would never let me down; I was sure of that. Whatever happened, I didn't want to lose him, but even more, I didn't want to hurt him.
"There it is," he said in my dream, pulling the white and green striped hat from his sleeve. He didn't wear it every day, but I knew he still had it. In our free time, he often wore it.
"Now I can win this game," he said to Gin, making his move with a green and white striped chess piece. I woke up early in the morning and vowed never to tell anyone about this dream.