Y
Ythania
Guest
"Remember what I have taught you, Hioshimi. Your hard work is essential; the Seireitei is a fledgling once more, and it all balances..."
"...On the edge of a blade."
Hioshimi's voice rung out clear in her office; She peered at the long metal zanpakuto in front of her, the polished edge shining softly in the diffused light of the bamboo floor and the ornate screens. It seemed to balance on its very tip, the sharp edge facing Hioshimi's steady jade gaze. This was a regular occurrence; Jinzen was, after all, the closest thing Hioshimi could muster as a cheap replacement for sleep, and she had a closer bond with her sword than most. The short girl stood up to her feet and instantly regretted it; dark shadowed fuzzed the corners of her vision and the weariness returned in force. The room tilted and pitched under her feet and, with a grunt, she lowered herself down to a crouching position, grabbing Fuminshiyou - her zanpakuto - for support.
Hioshimi's office was a rather depressing affair. It looked like someone gave a stab at trying to decorate the place and make it homely, but gave up halfway and lost the décor under the incessant tides of Hioshimi's cleaning obsession. She kept the screens, though; despite them holding no practical purpose, it helped to have them by the window when it got too bright for her. The floor was a simple bamboo mat, closely-packed and uncomfortable to sit or stand upon. A polished dark brown desk, the walls flanked with bookshelves, a stack of parchment so neatly arranged that one could get a paper-cut merely by running a finger down the corner, an ink-well, a bamboo pen. A large scroll hanging above the large, open window saying "LIEUTENANT'S OFFICE". Hioshimi often complained about the window, claiming that she could likely be assassinated since it was big enough for someone to climb through and she tended to have her back to it if she sat in the lieutenant's chair.
Hioshimi grunted as she hauled her protesting body to a standing position. she arched her back, fixed her hair, and stared out at the Seireitei from her window. It was so hard to believe...ten years ago, some other stood in a room very different from hers and looked down upon a different Seireitei, one with only Shinigami. They had the same thoughts, feelings and responsibilities as her - did they smile at the lovely view it provided, like she found herself doing now? Or did they, too, complain about getting killed-...well, she could hardly blame them. Hioshimi only heard of these forces through tell-tale lies in the Rukongai.
A dark force swept through the place and left rubble behind, an ungodly amount of deaths, piles of corpses and building detritus alike.
She was scooped up by the survivors, who needed to fatten out their ranks once more, and Hioshimi remembers the pale grimaces and looks of horror flashing through those eyes when she was assigned to the Academy. Ten years ago. She spent most of her time there rebuilding it, and once she had built it, she graduated from it. Thrown into the first squad that could get their grubby hands on her, spending the last few years glaring daggers at a shock of teal hair and a relaxed, dopey smirk, on her hands and knees scrubbing floors and kissing boots until she made it to the place where, ten years ago, someone looked out on a different Seireitei that was burning and dying.
Hioshimi looked away from the window. The Gotei 13 chose to use the day for celebration, but she knew that they knew there was nothing left to celebrate. "Congratulations, everyone, you managed to sweep the massacre under the rug..." her voice spoke of its own accord, spewing cynicism into the silence of the office and leaving a dark, hazy cloud over her head. She knew that it wasn't her fault, she knew she couldn't help it, and she knew it had been a couple of days since she last went to bed. She found herself pouting like a child, arms folded, sulking in the shade; whenever she became temperamental like this, she did what she felt was necessary;
Hioshimi went wandering down the barracks, looking for captain Hibiki.
"...On the edge of a blade."
Hioshimi's voice rung out clear in her office; She peered at the long metal zanpakuto in front of her, the polished edge shining softly in the diffused light of the bamboo floor and the ornate screens. It seemed to balance on its very tip, the sharp edge facing Hioshimi's steady jade gaze. This was a regular occurrence; Jinzen was, after all, the closest thing Hioshimi could muster as a cheap replacement for sleep, and she had a closer bond with her sword than most. The short girl stood up to her feet and instantly regretted it; dark shadowed fuzzed the corners of her vision and the weariness returned in force. The room tilted and pitched under her feet and, with a grunt, she lowered herself down to a crouching position, grabbing Fuminshiyou - her zanpakuto - for support.
Hioshimi's office was a rather depressing affair. It looked like someone gave a stab at trying to decorate the place and make it homely, but gave up halfway and lost the décor under the incessant tides of Hioshimi's cleaning obsession. She kept the screens, though; despite them holding no practical purpose, it helped to have them by the window when it got too bright for her. The floor was a simple bamboo mat, closely-packed and uncomfortable to sit or stand upon. A polished dark brown desk, the walls flanked with bookshelves, a stack of parchment so neatly arranged that one could get a paper-cut merely by running a finger down the corner, an ink-well, a bamboo pen. A large scroll hanging above the large, open window saying "LIEUTENANT'S OFFICE". Hioshimi often complained about the window, claiming that she could likely be assassinated since it was big enough for someone to climb through and she tended to have her back to it if she sat in the lieutenant's chair.
Hioshimi grunted as she hauled her protesting body to a standing position. she arched her back, fixed her hair, and stared out at the Seireitei from her window. It was so hard to believe...ten years ago, some other stood in a room very different from hers and looked down upon a different Seireitei, one with only Shinigami. They had the same thoughts, feelings and responsibilities as her - did they smile at the lovely view it provided, like she found herself doing now? Or did they, too, complain about getting killed-...well, she could hardly blame them. Hioshimi only heard of these forces through tell-tale lies in the Rukongai.
A dark force swept through the place and left rubble behind, an ungodly amount of deaths, piles of corpses and building detritus alike.
She was scooped up by the survivors, who needed to fatten out their ranks once more, and Hioshimi remembers the pale grimaces and looks of horror flashing through those eyes when she was assigned to the Academy. Ten years ago. She spent most of her time there rebuilding it, and once she had built it, she graduated from it. Thrown into the first squad that could get their grubby hands on her, spending the last few years glaring daggers at a shock of teal hair and a relaxed, dopey smirk, on her hands and knees scrubbing floors and kissing boots until she made it to the place where, ten years ago, someone looked out on a different Seireitei that was burning and dying.
Hioshimi looked away from the window. The Gotei 13 chose to use the day for celebration, but she knew that they knew there was nothing left to celebrate. "Congratulations, everyone, you managed to sweep the massacre under the rug..." her voice spoke of its own accord, spewing cynicism into the silence of the office and leaving a dark, hazy cloud over her head. She knew that it wasn't her fault, she knew she couldn't help it, and she knew it had been a couple of days since she last went to bed. She found herself pouting like a child, arms folded, sulking in the shade; whenever she became temperamental like this, she did what she felt was necessary;
Hioshimi went wandering down the barracks, looking for captain Hibiki.