Welcome to my first multi-part BLEACH story! It has no REAL plot – it’s more like a story of what happens AFTER the Winter War ends, told mostly from our favorite Jūbantai Taichou’s perspective, because I love him to bits and he’s liable to be the one stuck with this particular duty, anyway. I own none of them, sadly. All characters, save for some originals I may throw in later on, belong to Tite Kubo.

Future pairings WILL include: IchiRuki, GinRan, RenTatsu

This story WILL: have Randomness. Honor the canon storyline up to chapter 361 and any future chapters as much as I am able. While I value sticking to canon as an author of fanfiction, I will not overhaul a story if certain facts are, in fact, proven otherwise in later chapters and ruin its flow/integrity.

By Saori Runa Dempsey

Prologue

Just the Beginning

“Kurosaki Ichigo. Arisawa Tatsuki. Ishida Uryu.” The pencil checked each name off as the 4th division officer walked by each of the bodies on one of the cots before tucking the writing implement back into her firmly coifed bun of blonde hair on the top of her head. “All present and accounted for, Hitsugaya-taichou. Other then the shock of being…well…truly dead now, I can see no other reason they would be in need of medical care, though I’d recommend the young woman attend one of Unohana-taichou’s sessions for the newly deceased…”

Toshirou nodded absently, only partly listening. He wasn’t even out of the infirmary and he was getting an assignment. Granted, it required minimal physical exertion and was simple enough that a child could understand, but why couldn’t Ukitake do it? Or even 8th Division? Kyouraku never did anything notable during the days other then sleep and drink sake, though his division itself was one of the most well organized and self-functioning within the Gotei 13. How much of that was Ise’s doing he had no idea, but Toshirou was fairly certain Kyouraku would’ve still had plenty of time to take on this duty.

So just why, in the name of heaven and earth, was he the one stuck with baby-sitting duty?!

He had no problem with the Quincy. A little too uptight, maybe, but he could deal with him on a day to day basis fine. He didn’t know Arisawa at all, but from what little he’d seen, she was little different then Kurosaki’s little sister, Karin. And while she would give him a migraine whenever she died and came to Seireitei (because even he couldn’t believe she wouldn’t be a shinigami with all that reiryoku of hers), he could deal with her fine too.

Kurosaki was a whole different story.

No matter what way Toshirou turned it in his head was the ex-substitute shingami going to take this well. No way. Absolutely not. Impossible. He played hundreds of scenarios out in his head as he passed the time in the 4th division’s infirmary, recovering from his wounds he’d garnered from the tres Espada and his battle with Ichimaru Gin, and none of them were preferable. Surely he hadn’t done anything to piss Yamamoto-sotaicho off unduly recently…?

Of course, with the unlimited number of hours he had to think on it, he understood why. Much as Toshiro hated it, he knew why he was given this assignment. With the Winter War now officially over, rebuilding the strength of Soul Society was going to be top priority. Casualties were heavy despite their victory, Komamura and Omaeda being only two of the many high-ranked officers to die in the fight. If he closed his eyes, Toshirou could still see their final moments as they disappeared, their souls going wherever they went after dying in Soul Society too. Omaeda’s corpse, in a twisted sense of irony, nearly crushing his captain’s as he took a fatal blow meant for her. Komamura, disappearing in a brilliant explosion of fire as he died…and took his one time friend, Tosen, with him in an act of suicide.

And of course, there was Ichimaru to deal with.

He didn’t begin to understand the kind of relationship Matsumoto had once had with the man. He’d asked her, once, when he’d still been a mere academy student being plagued by the big-busted woman who’d made it her self-appointed duty to “open him up”. To him, it’d always looked like a rather masochistic one from her end, and as much as he found her annoying she’d grown on him by then.

“It’s complicated,” she’d told him, her smile rueful, before she’d broken out into her trademark smile and crushed him to her chest, effectively cutting off his air supply as she squealed, “You really do care!”

He’d never asked again.

But for the thousands of reasons Toshirou had to hate the man, the only tolerating point he’d had was that in his own weird, sadistic way, he really did care about Matsumoto. And in the end, it’d been what saved them. Shinsou had saved Matsumoto from Aizen, and in the end turned on him when it became glaringly clear that the only one Aizen planned on letting walk away from the war alive was himself. Self-centered, sadistic, son-of-a-bitch snake that Ichimaru was, he knew when to cut his losses, but not before being put under a spell that even Unohana was baffled by. It was like a sleep-inducing spell, but far stronger, and for all intents and purposes Ichimaru was comatose, much like Hinamori whose wounds were so extensive even Unohana could say little else but that it was a miracle she was breathing. He and Matsumoto, among many others, would be physically limited for at least a week. Soi Fon, Hisagi, Iba, what remained of Zaraki’s division…though, strangely, Zaraki and Kusajishi had managed to survive in good health. They were just about the only captain and lieutenant who’d survived that was still able to run their own division.

It was a no brainer as to what Yamamoto-sotaicho was thinking. Everyone knew he’d been planning for a long time now to install Kurosaki into a captain’s position the moment he became a shinigami in truth. It was perhaps a little earlier then planned, but it would happen. Many formalities were likely going to be overlooked as they tried to fill the gaping holes left in every division.

And until then, it was his job to get all three of them situated.

Arisawa and Ishida would likely go to the academy now that they were here, though he had a suspicion that the Quincy wasn’t going to be all that keen on it. Kurosaki was another story. He needed help on the basics and with so many other things it would be a century before he ever reached the standard levels of a typical captain. He’d only been privy to one of the few sessions Kuchiki Rukia had done with Ichigo in the real world in an attempt to teach kido, but the memory still made him twitch at random times in the middle of the night.

Kido just wasn’t his thing.

“Good morning, Taichou!” Matsumoto, as usual, was as bubbly as ever when she barged into his room late in the afternoon, arms overflowing with sweets that he suspected were from Ukitake in an attempt to make his teeth rot. He enjoyed sweets as much as the next guy, but he didn’t eat them as fast as he got them. He was running out of people to divvy it out to, though it at least kept Kusajishi from bugging him like she did Kuchiki Byakuya. “Isane told me your getting out tomorrow morning!”

He knew that tone. She gad it every time he landed himself in the infirmary, which was often as of late. “You’re not having a party in the barracks, Matsumoto.”

She pouted and whined, but the twinkle of good cheer in her eyes didn’t waver. It was just how things were. Matsumoto was smart, regardless of the image she gave off to the contrary. That wasn’t to say she wouldn’t plan a huge get well/victory party if given the chance, but she’d expected his answer before she ever mentioned it. “How are Ichigo and his friends? Yamamoto-sotaicho said they’d be staying in our barracks until they get the OK from Unohana-taichou.”

Of course. He’d never get any work done now. Where Kurosaki went, Zaraki was bound to go eventually. He was the only one tickled pink, purple, and blue that Kurosaki Ichigo was dead for real now. In a way, Toshirou actually pitied him for that. He wasn’t liable to get any peace anytime soon, but neither was the ex-substitute shinigami.

“Should be able to be discharged once they wake up.”

“Good.”

Toshirou turned towards the voice, unsurprised to find Kurosaki standing and staring at him expectantly. “You may feel fit as a fiddle, Kurosaki, but I am not.” And it would be a cold day in hell when he went against Unohana’s medical orders.

Speaking of which…

“Kurosaki-san,” sweet-voiced Unohana Retsu said as she came into the room, their charts in her hands and a smile that was truly a hoax on her face. Matsumoto took one look at that smile and wisely shut up, sitting inconspicuously at his bedside like a dutiful lieutenant but her eyes riveted to the clueless boy’s face that was blissfully unaware of the doom soon coming to him. “So nice to see you’re awake. If you would lie back down so I can make sure everything is alright…”

“I’m fine,” he said with a wave. “Really. I’m sure you have others who could really use the bed so I’ll just…”

“Kurosaki-san.” Still peaceful. Still tranquil. “Please. Sit.” She motioned to his vacated bed and just stood there, waiting, and Kurosaki still simply shook his head, well-meaning and completely unaware. Toshirou really did pity him in that moment, as Kurosaki was about to find out in that moment the first, most important rule within Soul Society now that he was here for good.

Never argue with Unohana and go against her medical orders.

REVIEWS are ENCOURAGED. I admit, shamelessly, that they inspire me more then anything so if you like or find this story moderately interesting and would like to see this story continue, LEAVE ME A REVIEW AND TELL ME. Let me know what you think. ~ SRD