redamancy | urayoru

i

"Good morning, Fourth Seat Urahara!"

A testament to how fast news travels within the Thirteen Divisions, the recent shifts in leadership are already common knowledge mere hours after the fact, before the official announcement has been made.

With a curt nod and a smile, Kisuke ambles past the two bowing Soul Reapers in a muted patter of feet against the wooden deck. Even without turning back for a second look, he knows the two men are already on the move again. Captain Himura has always run a tight ship, and given the state of disarray the entire Second Division is in today, he means to make the transition as fast as possible. Any Soul Reaper not on active duty appears to be on the new Lieutenant's beck and call this morning, including Kisuke himself.

Well. Technically.

He is, after all, meant to be in charge of coordination, rather than actual manual labor, and on that front he has performed beyond the call of duty. Overcrowded corridors notwithstanding, the task of clearing out former Lieutenant Tsukioka's quarters and prepping the space for the incumbent was completed in record time. Within a scant few hours, the process of moving in the new Lieutenant will be a done deal.

Sidestepping a pair of Soul Reapers lugging a bulging crate, Kisuke picks up his pace, making a beeline for the doorway at the end of the deck. He doesn't bother knocking; the double shōji already lay ajar, and the room's occupant knows by now to expect an endless parade of intruders coming and going for the foreseeable future.

The small antechamber acting as the Lieutenant's office space is heaving with clearly marked crates, some opened, some untouched. There is no furniture to speak of, save for a glossy desk dominating the center of the room.

Perched on the desktop is Yoruichi, her ankles crossed over a crate that sits at the foot of the desk. Features drawn in a decidedly haggard look, she is idly twirling a finger in the ponytail that cascades past her shoulder, absorbed by the document in her hands. And as he follows the line of her arm, from black wristguard to shortened Shihakushō sleeves, Kisuke spots the Lieutenant's insignia gleaming on the side of her bicep.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," he says, stepping into the cluttered office.

Yoruichi looks up to meet his gaze, then her eyes immediately dart over to his empty hands. "So much for agreeing to help with the move."

"You wound me, Yoruichi," Kisuke says, hand clutching his chest. "Would I ever go back on a promise?"

As Yoruichi opens her mouth to answer, the two Soul Reapers he had hurried past a moment ago come grunting into her office. The crate makes a thud entirely disproportionate to its small size as the two men set it down, and they fall into a bow before scurrying out of the office.

"See?" Kisuke says, pointing at the newest addition to the growing mountain of containers littering her quarters. "I have everything under control."

Yoruichi lets out a snort and rolls her eyes, failing to smother the brief grin that graces her lips before she turns somber again. "You wouldn't happen to have spoken to Ōmaeda? I haven't seen him around today."

"Ōmaeda is spending the day at the Intelligence Squad compound," Kisuke says. "He's currently shifting through cases, making a list of everything you and I need to sign off on."

Having gone through three Divisions already in his short career, Kisuke has never been one to form particularly strong attachments to his co-workers. Up until a year ago, when Yoruichi had joined the Thirteen Divisions and convinced him to transfer over to the Second, he wouldn't have batted an eyelash at a reassignment. And yet he would be lying if he claimed he hadn't enjoyed his tenure in the Onmitsukidō so far.