𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 | 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 [MINOR EDITING]

³² sᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴍɪɴᴅ

Fine...

Using that word to describe my physical state and position was about as accurate as calling the sky blue. Which, it was. I stopped a massive war within Rukon using a weapon of literal mass destruction, ending the lives of these problematic souls to save and re-balance the Soul Society. I can't imagine who would have any qualms against my actions. Besides, there really was no other way to stop the fight. They wouldn't listen to reason or take my warnings and threats seriously. They only understood violence.

Now, concerning my political standing, this is a whole other concern.

I received it exactly four days after the battle. The letter from Central Fourty-Six, I mean. Seeing the official wax seal, stamped deeply into the parchment of the letter, has sent a deep and writhing feeling of nervousness and nausea through my stomach. I try to convince myself to ignore it. It's not like I did anything wrong in the first place. In fact, it's more like I saved the council extra trouble.

This letter better contain a thank you somewhere, I think, my heart pounding in my chest. My anxiety overrides the sudden anger that pulses inside me.

The door of my bedroom opens; a lack of knocking and of a verbal announcement of his arrival would suggest that Shinji has gotten much too comfortable in both my life and home.

"And I thought the front of the manor was bad," is the first thing he says to me. I snort, sparing a quick glance to the ceiling of my room. Or, technically speaking, the sky, which has replaced the wood beams previously making it up.

"Good morning to you, too," I say, allowing myself a smile. Following a slight thump on the floor, Shinji sits behind me, legs extended against my own crossed ones, arms around my middle. Once more, I allow myself a breath; maybe I'm the one who's gotten too comfortable here.

"Mornin'," he breathes into my ear. "What's that?"

"It's, uh... it's summons," I tell him, my voice having cracked.

"Oh, from the Head Captain?"

"Not quite... Central Fourty-Six." I instantly feel him tense up; we're now both a ball of anxiety. His grip around me grows tight, but it's comforting, unlike the hugs I never received from my parents. Well, at least my father tried making an effort, as slim as they were.

"When are they for?" he asks me, chin resting in the divet in my shoulder.

"Tomorrow morning."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"Oh, no, you are not!" I say, moving away from him to glare at him. "If I go down, you're not going down with me." I sigh. "Central Fourty-Six is not a group of people that care much about the lives of innocents. Keep in mind that it was under the Head Captain's recommendation to keep Shõri and myself alive, only because I inherited my mother's Zanpakutõ. If they feel that my "extremist" intervention, as they've phrased it, and consider my ability to now utilize Shikai a risk to the Soul Society, they'll have no problem offing me. I don't want you, of all people, to be another casualty of my mother's."