Hitsugaya had fully recovered from his bout of depression a few hours later: Rangiku had fallen to her knees and apologized profusely for her thoughtless and callous words, going so far as to squeeze out a couple of convincing tears; and Ichigo had muttered an incoherent word of apology. With a sly glint in his eyes, Hitsugaya said that the only way for the two of them to atone for their heinous conduct was to clean up the whole of Squad 10’s main building. Initially, Ichigo was repulsed by the idea and was about to suggest that Hitsugaya shove it up his ass, but a warning glare from Rangiku and a questioning look from Hitsugaya made him forget about his attempts at resisting.
“Ah, my back!” Rangiku cried, a hand flying to massage the small of her back, which seemed to be a region of immense pain for her at that moment.
“Forget it, Rangiku,” Hitsugaya said; “There’s no way I’m calling off this punishment. As it is, I was generous enough to award you punishment that doesn’t make up for even half the damage that you caused me.”
“Nothing gets past you, Captain.” Rangiku said bitterly. She was hoping that the sight of her in immense pain would elicit sympathy from her captain, and possibly earn her a curtailment of her punishment. After all, being on one’s hands and knees for hours, scrubbing the floor until it gleamed, was terribly exacting—any fool knew that.
Rangiku glanced instinctively at the other side of the room where her companion in distress was performing the same task as she. Ichigo didn’t seem to be faring any better. Judging by the look of pure loathing on his face, Rangiku inferred that he hated the punishment even more than she did—possibly owing to his having a much larger ego.
Hitsugaya, for his part, was sitting on a chair and barking out commands to Rangiku and Ichigo whenever he felt the need (or otherwise) to do so. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself: his mouth, which was invariably set in a deep frown, now seemed to be straighter by a fraction of a degree: proof of how happy he was.
Ichigo was repeating several noxious expletives in his head, directing them to the white-haired captain of Squad 10, and it must have shown on his face, because Hitsugaya said coolly, “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop thinking about it.”
The last strands of Ichigo’s incredible willpower prevented him from throwing the pail at the snobby Captain’s face. Hitsugaya in turn seemed incredibly alive to Ichigo’s disturbed emotions. He cast him a warning glare, and said, “Squad 11’s training house place is also in need of cleaning.”
That’s all Ichigo needed to know. He then began scrubbing the floor like it was nobody’s business, and for the sake of his own life, beamed occasionally at Hitsugaya, trying to convince him that he was having the time of his life. Lord knew what would happen to him if he showed up at Zaraki’s doorstep willingly.
Rangiku sighed deeply and glanced hopefully up at her captain, who was as impassive as ever, sitting with his eyes closed to accentuate his indifference to her plight. Rangiku sighed again, hoping that this time, she was loud enough to attract her captain’s attention.
“That won’t work on me, Rangiku.” Hitsugaya said coolly; “Unless you want to start over at the beginning.”
Rangiku shuddered. No, she definitely—freaking definitely—didn’t want to start over at the beginning. Nobody in their right mind would. Except perhaps Momo: she had an otherworldly penchant for doing household chores. But Rangiku was definitely not Momo. She shuddered again. She wouldn’t know what to do if she had boobs that small.
“Don’t slack off, Rangiku!” Hitsugaya snapped.
Rangiku started and began scrubbing vigorously, primarily under the influence of adrenaline.
“After you’re done, you’ll be taking out the garbage.” Hitsugaya went on as if it were something they did every day.
Rangiku winced. Ichigo grimaced. Both of them separately made up their minds to teach the haughty captain a lesson or two when they got to the Meadows. Rangiku smirked. Ichigo grinned.
“What’re you two smiling about, huh?” Hitsugaya said crossly. He was more annoyed at being left out of something funny than the fact that Ichigo and Rangiku were brazenly slacking off again.
“You’ll find out soon.” Rangiku said. Her eyes had a distant look to them, and it didn’t appear as though she was aware of the fact that she had said anything.
Apprehension seized Hitsugaya. So the two of them were conspiring against him.
* * * * *
“Er, Nemu,” Ukitake called, seeing the 12th Squad Lieutenant emerge from the Department of Research and Development.
“Captain Ukitake.” Nemu said impassively, as always.
“I wanted to know,” Ukitake said a little uncomfortably, “if Captain Kurotsuchi is available. There is, er, a matter that I needed to discuss with him in person.”
Ukitake felt uneasy for two reasons: the first, because the person he was talking to was a damn robot; the second, because he was seeking help from Captain Kurotsuchi, making it clear that his own knowledge of things was inadequate for independent living. He might have felt more comfortable running around the Seiretei naked, shouting, “I’m so stupid, damn it!”
“I’m sorry, Captain Ukitake, but Captain Mayuri isn’t available at the moment.” Nemu said.
“Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?”
“That is difficult to assess, Captain Ukitake. Captain Mayuri is presently convalescing in Squad Four’s Healing Chamber.” Nemu said.
“What?” Ukitake said; “He’s injured?” If he knew the odious Captain of Squad 12 well enough, he’d say it would take either a miracle or a strange new species of Ryoka to lure him out of his lab.
“Captain Mayuri is terribly ill. A failed experiment dealt him great psychological damage. He is yet to accept in its entirety the fact that his experiment failed.”
“I thought as much,” Ukitake said knowingly. “Only things like that are capable of disconcerting the Great Mayuri.”
“I agree with you,” Nemu said; “the Great Mayuri...”
“So what was this experiment about, exactly?” Ukitake asked out of curiosity. He usually had more self-control, but the fact was that he loved gossip, and since it was a damn robot he was talking to anyway, why resist?
“The Great Mayuri was trying to make a portable laboratory for the research expedition.” Nemu explained.
“You mean the Vacation?”
“Yes.”
“And just how could his experiments have failed?” Ukitake asked.
“The Great Mayuri had omitted to take into account the fact that objects made up of a combination of spiritrons and earthly metals, upon condensation, become imperceptible to the human senses.” Nemu said as if it were the simplest thing to comprehend.
Ukitake had blanked out. He came to a couple of moments later, and out of politeness, said, “And what led him to condense... those things?” He didn’t actually care about the answer.
“I’m glad you asked, Captain Ukitake. You see, the Great Mayuri’s lab equipment is primarily made up of a combination of spiritrons and earthly metals, unlike most of the other tangible objects one might come across in the Soul Society. In order to successfully fit his equipment into a pill, he needed to condense the spiritrons and earthly metals singularly into spiritrons. He had, as I have already explained, omitted to take into account the fact that earthly metals become imperceptible to the five senses if they are explicitly condensed into spiritrons. The Great Mayuri is this upset because he lost all his lab equipment.” Nemu explained rather elaborately. “I was rather shocked—as was the Great Mayuri himself—at the fact that he should overlook a phenomenon as simple as this.”
“I see.” Ukitake said incoherently. He mumbled to himself, “Maybe elementary school is the right place for me,” and walked back to his cabin with a heavy heart.
* * * * *
“Now what is it, Brother?” Rukia asked irately.
Byakuya looked amusedly at her.
“S-sorry.” Rukia said quickly. She hadn’t meant to be that rude.
“If you mean what’s bothering me, it’s that.” Byakuya said, pointing out of window at something in the garden.
Rukia went up to the window and her eyes widened. “Ichigo! What the hell are you doing here?” she yelled.
Ichigo looked up at the window and Rukia. “I was just passing by and I decided that Byakuya’s garden is the best place to train.”
Rukia heard a sickening crunching sound behind her, and she whirled around to see Byakuya holding the remains of an expensive porcelain teacup in a tightly fisted hand, and donning that rare expression of irritation on his face.
“Rukia,” Byakuya said, the coldness in his voice causing goose bumps to run down Rukia’s spine; “That brat would listen to you: tell him to refer to me as ‘Captain Kuchiki’, or more preferably, ‘Lord Kuchiki’, and explain to him that using my first name to address me is nothing short of an insult.”
Rukia sighed. “I’ve tried so many times, Brother,”—she hadn’t once—“but what can I do? He’s incorrigible.”
“Sir, I have the reports—” Renji said, barging into Byakuya’s bedroom, stopping because of the expression on Byakuya’s face, which would accurately translate into “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Renji,” Byakuya said coldly; “What are you doing in my bedroom?”
Renji accidentally let out a small whimper. What was he doing in Byakuya’s bedroom?
He laughed sheepishly. “It’s funny you should ask that, sir...”
“Is it?” Byakuya said; “I’m not laughing.”
Try it. It’s not that hard, Renji said in his head. Aloud he said nothing.
“Renji, what are you doing in my bedroom?” Byakuya asked again. The hint of impatience that was heretofore concealed in his voice became apparent now.
Renji cleared his throat. “I... I came to give you these finished reports.”
Byakuya raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. “I am not aware that I had assigned you with anything.”
“Oh, that’s right, too.” Renji conceded. He thought awhile before venturing on to a reply. “I thought maybe I could relieve you of some of the workload. You are, after all, the hardest working captain. There’s not a moment I don’t see you not working. You’re my role model, Captain; my hero!” All right, he went a bit too far with the last bit. And sheesh! Did Renji honestly think flattery would work on Captain Kuchiki of all people?
Byakuya felt flattered. Exceedingly so. He hadn’t ever conceived that he played a role that important in his loyal lieutenant’s life. Now that he knew how much the devoted redhead venerated him, he supposed the right thing for him to do was to pardon the misguided idiot.
“All right, Renji,” Byakuya said; “But in future, I will not tolerate such intrusion.”
Renji couldn’t believe that his captain actually fell for a trick as cheap as that. In fact, for several moments, he grinned stupidly at nobody in particular, celebrating in abandon within himself.
A vein twitched in Byakuya’s temple. He was not used to being ignored, especially by his subordinates. Now he had second thoughts about pardoning Renji’s intrusion. At the same time, he was seized with a very bright idea.
“On second thought, Renji, you are not pardoned.” Byakuya said.
Renji’s grin fell clean off his face. “W-what?!”
“As punishment,” Byakuya went on, trying hard not to let his sadistic tendencies get the better of him and show themselves in the form of an equally sadistic grin, “you will kick Ichigo Kurosaki out of my manor.”
Byakuya grinned inwardly. This way, he would be hitting two birds with one stone. “Get onto it now.” he ordered.
Renji started, and then dashed out of his captain’s bedroom.
A short while later, upon hearing a muffled cry, Byakuya and Rukia went over to the window. They saw Renji wrestling with Ichigo for a while, before slinging him across his shoulder and running off toward the Kuchiki Manor’s gate.
Byakuya permitted himself a grin of satisfaction.
* * * * *
“Hey, Renji, put me down already!” Ichigo said, trying to wriggle free from Renji’s iron grip, but failing.
“I can’t.” Renji said, irritated; “I’ve been ordered to remove you from my captain’s manor.”
“Who’s he to make the rules?”
“It’s his manor, dumbass. And besides, I’m lucky that my only punishment was to get rid of you. If I’d stuck around any longer, he might have done something worse to me: he might have used Senbonzakura to chop my hair off.” Renji said, cringing at the notion of having his beautiful hair chopped off.
“Punishment?” Ichigo asked.
“That’s right. I stupidly barged into his bedroom.”
“Yeah, that was really stupid of you.”
“I never asked for your opinion!” Renji snapped, tightening his grip across Ichigo’s middle, eliciting a gasp of pain from the latter.
Renji skidded to a halt. Someone had flashstepped his way in front of him, and that someone didn’t look very happy.
“I’m not done with you yet, Renji.” Byakuya said sternly. “I’m going to use Senbonzakura to chop your hair off. Any last words?”
“Just one:” Renji said weakly, “can you read minds?”
“No. I just happened to come across in that ‘report’ of yours that your worst nightmare was to have your hair chopped off by my Zanpakutō.”
“My... report?” Renji asked. An enlightened ‘oh’ escaped his lips, followed by a self-deprecatory ‘darn it!’ Renji balled his hands into fists. “That report... must have been that survey thing the Soul Reaper Men’s Association had asked all of its members to fill out.”
Byakuya raised an eyebrow slightly. “How interesting.” he said without showing the slightest interest; “At any rate, my cutting your hair off with Senbonzakura is an appropriate punishment for you.”
Renji couldn’t control himself any longer. “Sadist!” he yelled.
“It’s been a while since someone last called me that.”
“We leave tomorrow.” Head Captain Yamamoto declared solemnly at an emergency Captains’ Meeting a couple of days later. “I trust everyone has finished packing?”
Mayuri began cackling. “Of course I have! And just in the nick of time, at that! With a little assistance from that orange-haired girl and her abilities, I was successfully able to retrieve my lost equipment and then condense all of it into spiritrons!”
“Congratulations, Captain Kurotsuchi.” Kyoraku said sympathetically—nobody else would have bothered to acknowledge Mayuri’s scientific achievements.
“Tomorrow at six in the morning, then,” Yamamoto said, “all captains, lieutenants, and the Chosen Ones will assemble at Sōkyoku Hill with their chosen belongings, and a Senkai Gate to the Meadows shall be opened.”
“Ah, my back!” Rangiku cried, a hand flying to massage the small of her back, which seemed to be a region of immense pain for her at that moment.
“Forget it, Rangiku,” Hitsugaya said; “There’s no way I’m calling off this punishment. As it is, I was generous enough to award you punishment that doesn’t make up for even half the damage that you caused me.”
“Nothing gets past you, Captain.” Rangiku said bitterly. She was hoping that the sight of her in immense pain would elicit sympathy from her captain, and possibly earn her a curtailment of her punishment. After all, being on one’s hands and knees for hours, scrubbing the floor until it gleamed, was terribly exacting—any fool knew that.
Rangiku glanced instinctively at the other side of the room where her companion in distress was performing the same task as she. Ichigo didn’t seem to be faring any better. Judging by the look of pure loathing on his face, Rangiku inferred that he hated the punishment even more than she did—possibly owing to his having a much larger ego.
Hitsugaya, for his part, was sitting on a chair and barking out commands to Rangiku and Ichigo whenever he felt the need (or otherwise) to do so. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself: his mouth, which was invariably set in a deep frown, now seemed to be straighter by a fraction of a degree: proof of how happy he was.
Ichigo was repeating several noxious expletives in his head, directing them to the white-haired captain of Squad 10, and it must have shown on his face, because Hitsugaya said coolly, “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop thinking about it.”
The last strands of Ichigo’s incredible willpower prevented him from throwing the pail at the snobby Captain’s face. Hitsugaya in turn seemed incredibly alive to Ichigo’s disturbed emotions. He cast him a warning glare, and said, “Squad 11’s training house place is also in need of cleaning.”
That’s all Ichigo needed to know. He then began scrubbing the floor like it was nobody’s business, and for the sake of his own life, beamed occasionally at Hitsugaya, trying to convince him that he was having the time of his life. Lord knew what would happen to him if he showed up at Zaraki’s doorstep willingly.
Rangiku sighed deeply and glanced hopefully up at her captain, who was as impassive as ever, sitting with his eyes closed to accentuate his indifference to her plight. Rangiku sighed again, hoping that this time, she was loud enough to attract her captain’s attention.
“That won’t work on me, Rangiku.” Hitsugaya said coolly; “Unless you want to start over at the beginning.”
Rangiku shuddered. No, she definitely—freaking definitely—didn’t want to start over at the beginning. Nobody in their right mind would. Except perhaps Momo: she had an otherworldly penchant for doing household chores. But Rangiku was definitely not Momo. She shuddered again. She wouldn’t know what to do if she had boobs that small.
“Don’t slack off, Rangiku!” Hitsugaya snapped.
Rangiku started and began scrubbing vigorously, primarily under the influence of adrenaline.
“After you’re done, you’ll be taking out the garbage.” Hitsugaya went on as if it were something they did every day.
Rangiku winced. Ichigo grimaced. Both of them separately made up their minds to teach the haughty captain a lesson or two when they got to the Meadows. Rangiku smirked. Ichigo grinned.
“What’re you two smiling about, huh?” Hitsugaya said crossly. He was more annoyed at being left out of something funny than the fact that Ichigo and Rangiku were brazenly slacking off again.
“You’ll find out soon.” Rangiku said. Her eyes had a distant look to them, and it didn’t appear as though she was aware of the fact that she had said anything.
Apprehension seized Hitsugaya. So the two of them were conspiring against him.
* * * * *
“Er, Nemu,” Ukitake called, seeing the 12th Squad Lieutenant emerge from the Department of Research and Development.
“Captain Ukitake.” Nemu said impassively, as always.
“I wanted to know,” Ukitake said a little uncomfortably, “if Captain Kurotsuchi is available. There is, er, a matter that I needed to discuss with him in person.”
Ukitake felt uneasy for two reasons: the first, because the person he was talking to was a damn robot; the second, because he was seeking help from Captain Kurotsuchi, making it clear that his own knowledge of things was inadequate for independent living. He might have felt more comfortable running around the Seiretei naked, shouting, “I’m so stupid, damn it!”
“I’m sorry, Captain Ukitake, but Captain Mayuri isn’t available at the moment.” Nemu said.
“Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?”
“That is difficult to assess, Captain Ukitake. Captain Mayuri is presently convalescing in Squad Four’s Healing Chamber.” Nemu said.
“What?” Ukitake said; “He’s injured?” If he knew the odious Captain of Squad 12 well enough, he’d say it would take either a miracle or a strange new species of Ryoka to lure him out of his lab.
“Captain Mayuri is terribly ill. A failed experiment dealt him great psychological damage. He is yet to accept in its entirety the fact that his experiment failed.”
“I thought as much,” Ukitake said knowingly. “Only things like that are capable of disconcerting the Great Mayuri.”
“I agree with you,” Nemu said; “the Great Mayuri...”
“So what was this experiment about, exactly?” Ukitake asked out of curiosity. He usually had more self-control, but the fact was that he loved gossip, and since it was a damn robot he was talking to anyway, why resist?
“The Great Mayuri was trying to make a portable laboratory for the research expedition.” Nemu explained.
“You mean the Vacation?”
“Yes.”
“And just how could his experiments have failed?” Ukitake asked.
“The Great Mayuri had omitted to take into account the fact that objects made up of a combination of spiritrons and earthly metals, upon condensation, become imperceptible to the human senses.” Nemu said as if it were the simplest thing to comprehend.
Ukitake had blanked out. He came to a couple of moments later, and out of politeness, said, “And what led him to condense... those things?” He didn’t actually care about the answer.
“I’m glad you asked, Captain Ukitake. You see, the Great Mayuri’s lab equipment is primarily made up of a combination of spiritrons and earthly metals, unlike most of the other tangible objects one might come across in the Soul Society. In order to successfully fit his equipment into a pill, he needed to condense the spiritrons and earthly metals singularly into spiritrons. He had, as I have already explained, omitted to take into account the fact that earthly metals become imperceptible to the five senses if they are explicitly condensed into spiritrons. The Great Mayuri is this upset because he lost all his lab equipment.” Nemu explained rather elaborately. “I was rather shocked—as was the Great Mayuri himself—at the fact that he should overlook a phenomenon as simple as this.”
“I see.” Ukitake said incoherently. He mumbled to himself, “Maybe elementary school is the right place for me,” and walked back to his cabin with a heavy heart.
* * * * *
“Now what is it, Brother?” Rukia asked irately.
Byakuya looked amusedly at her.
“S-sorry.” Rukia said quickly. She hadn’t meant to be that rude.
“If you mean what’s bothering me, it’s that.” Byakuya said, pointing out of window at something in the garden.
Rukia went up to the window and her eyes widened. “Ichigo! What the hell are you doing here?” she yelled.
Ichigo looked up at the window and Rukia. “I was just passing by and I decided that Byakuya’s garden is the best place to train.”
Rukia heard a sickening crunching sound behind her, and she whirled around to see Byakuya holding the remains of an expensive porcelain teacup in a tightly fisted hand, and donning that rare expression of irritation on his face.
“Rukia,” Byakuya said, the coldness in his voice causing goose bumps to run down Rukia’s spine; “That brat would listen to you: tell him to refer to me as ‘Captain Kuchiki’, or more preferably, ‘Lord Kuchiki’, and explain to him that using my first name to address me is nothing short of an insult.”
Rukia sighed. “I’ve tried so many times, Brother,”—she hadn’t once—“but what can I do? He’s incorrigible.”
“Sir, I have the reports—” Renji said, barging into Byakuya’s bedroom, stopping because of the expression on Byakuya’s face, which would accurately translate into “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Renji,” Byakuya said coldly; “What are you doing in my bedroom?”
Renji accidentally let out a small whimper. What was he doing in Byakuya’s bedroom?
He laughed sheepishly. “It’s funny you should ask that, sir...”
“Is it?” Byakuya said; “I’m not laughing.”
Try it. It’s not that hard, Renji said in his head. Aloud he said nothing.
“Renji, what are you doing in my bedroom?” Byakuya asked again. The hint of impatience that was heretofore concealed in his voice became apparent now.
Renji cleared his throat. “I... I came to give you these finished reports.”
Byakuya raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. “I am not aware that I had assigned you with anything.”
“Oh, that’s right, too.” Renji conceded. He thought awhile before venturing on to a reply. “I thought maybe I could relieve you of some of the workload. You are, after all, the hardest working captain. There’s not a moment I don’t see you not working. You’re my role model, Captain; my hero!” All right, he went a bit too far with the last bit. And sheesh! Did Renji honestly think flattery would work on Captain Kuchiki of all people?
Byakuya felt flattered. Exceedingly so. He hadn’t ever conceived that he played a role that important in his loyal lieutenant’s life. Now that he knew how much the devoted redhead venerated him, he supposed the right thing for him to do was to pardon the misguided idiot.
“All right, Renji,” Byakuya said; “But in future, I will not tolerate such intrusion.”
Renji couldn’t believe that his captain actually fell for a trick as cheap as that. In fact, for several moments, he grinned stupidly at nobody in particular, celebrating in abandon within himself.
A vein twitched in Byakuya’s temple. He was not used to being ignored, especially by his subordinates. Now he had second thoughts about pardoning Renji’s intrusion. At the same time, he was seized with a very bright idea.
“On second thought, Renji, you are not pardoned.” Byakuya said.
Renji’s grin fell clean off his face. “W-what?!”
“As punishment,” Byakuya went on, trying hard not to let his sadistic tendencies get the better of him and show themselves in the form of an equally sadistic grin, “you will kick Ichigo Kurosaki out of my manor.”
Byakuya grinned inwardly. This way, he would be hitting two birds with one stone. “Get onto it now.” he ordered.
Renji started, and then dashed out of his captain’s bedroom.
A short while later, upon hearing a muffled cry, Byakuya and Rukia went over to the window. They saw Renji wrestling with Ichigo for a while, before slinging him across his shoulder and running off toward the Kuchiki Manor’s gate.
Byakuya permitted himself a grin of satisfaction.
* * * * *
“Hey, Renji, put me down already!” Ichigo said, trying to wriggle free from Renji’s iron grip, but failing.
“I can’t.” Renji said, irritated; “I’ve been ordered to remove you from my captain’s manor.”
“Who’s he to make the rules?”
“It’s his manor, dumbass. And besides, I’m lucky that my only punishment was to get rid of you. If I’d stuck around any longer, he might have done something worse to me: he might have used Senbonzakura to chop my hair off.” Renji said, cringing at the notion of having his beautiful hair chopped off.
“Punishment?” Ichigo asked.
“That’s right. I stupidly barged into his bedroom.”
“Yeah, that was really stupid of you.”
“I never asked for your opinion!” Renji snapped, tightening his grip across Ichigo’s middle, eliciting a gasp of pain from the latter.
Renji skidded to a halt. Someone had flashstepped his way in front of him, and that someone didn’t look very happy.
“I’m not done with you yet, Renji.” Byakuya said sternly. “I’m going to use Senbonzakura to chop your hair off. Any last words?”
“Just one:” Renji said weakly, “can you read minds?”
“No. I just happened to come across in that ‘report’ of yours that your worst nightmare was to have your hair chopped off by my Zanpakutō.”
“My... report?” Renji asked. An enlightened ‘oh’ escaped his lips, followed by a self-deprecatory ‘darn it!’ Renji balled his hands into fists. “That report... must have been that survey thing the Soul Reaper Men’s Association had asked all of its members to fill out.”
Byakuya raised an eyebrow slightly. “How interesting.” he said without showing the slightest interest; “At any rate, my cutting your hair off with Senbonzakura is an appropriate punishment for you.”
Renji couldn’t control himself any longer. “Sadist!” he yelled.
“It’s been a while since someone last called me that.”
* * * * *
“We leave tomorrow.” Head Captain Yamamoto declared solemnly at an emergency Captains’ Meeting a couple of days later. “I trust everyone has finished packing?”
Mayuri began cackling. “Of course I have! And just in the nick of time, at that! With a little assistance from that orange-haired girl and her abilities, I was successfully able to retrieve my lost equipment and then condense all of it into spiritrons!”
“Congratulations, Captain Kurotsuchi.” Kyoraku said sympathetically—nobody else would have bothered to acknowledge Mayuri’s scientific achievements.
“Tomorrow at six in the morning, then,” Yamamoto said, “all captains, lieutenants, and the Chosen Ones will assemble at Sōkyoku Hill with their chosen belongings, and a Senkai Gate to the Meadows shall be opened.”
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