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The man stares down the ko’ed form of Aizen Sousuke for a good minute after his fall, mic deactivated in one hand. With lips pursued and brows lightly scrunched, perplexed, they watch in full-blown disbelief as the doc steps forward with long legs, stepping over Aizen’s head and grinding the villain’s face into sand when not even one of them had managed to land a finger on him. It’s with a flicker of shock that the doctor peers down at his own foot.
“…interesting.”
What is?
Shinji would ask, except his jaw’s further slackening as the man raises a foot, and puts it back down on Aizen’s back (eliciting a satisfying squelch). The doc hums and steps aside onto flat ground. He holds his chin pensively and steps back up atop Aizen’s shoulders. The man remains oblivious to the dozens in the battlefield who have fallen silent, watching him tersely.
“Whatever sorcery Amemura-kun is engaging in this time round, it should do me well to question him on it. Levitation should allow the medical field to evolve by leaps and bounds—”
Shinji chokes on his spit. Levitation? What?
The man in his white coat inclines his head upwards to observe the skyscrapers with astute eyes. His voice falls low with suspicion.
“…In any case, this town is unusually deserted. I hope Doppo-kun is able to keep Hifumi-kun in check. Ichiro-kun and his brothers aren’t having any trouble too, I hope.”
Now that he mentioned it, there’s been an unsettling quiet that had settled over Karakura some time in the midst of the battle with Aizen. Each of every one of them had been so absorbed over defending the human whose rapping was somehow able to make thatAizen disorientated, not even Shinji had been paying attention to much else besides—(Invert that attack. Aizen’s primary objective is to eradicate the human. An attack combo coming from the Yoruichi-Urahara-Isshin trio wouldn’t normally work on him at this point, but the human who’s on their side is scrambling Aizen’s mind and illusions. As he is, Aizen ain’t nothing but a toddler without tools—)
“You there.”
Shinji’s thoughts come to a halt.
He blinks wide eyes, looking around him to the various shinigami’s and even fellow visoreds who inch away or shake their heads.
“Ya talkin’ about me?” Shinji manages a wry grin.
“Yes.” With grey locks flowing behind his back, the human doctor closes the distance between them with wide strides. It’s all Shinji can do to not feel incredulous when the man lifts white gloved fingers to the gash on his cheek. He finds himself the target of a deep frown. “You’ve injured yourself at some point during your… impromptu performance. You require immediate treatment.”
What is he? A circus monkey? Shinji deadpans.
“I can live with a lil’ scar like this, Doc.” His voice is flat. How do you even begin to go about thanking a human who brought down the man you’ve been chasing for centuries? “An’ I’m sure losin’ one or two drops of blood won’ kill me at this stage.”
Blue eyes scrutinize his features dubiously. They flicker down to his thigh, where Aizen’s blade had nicked him. Shinji scowls.
“A flesh wound, I assure ya.” He eyes the approaching Shinigami who’re now taking measures to seal Aizen away. “’Sides, should ya really be concerned about me at a time like this? Ya’ve just taken down the most heinous antagonist in all of Seireitei’s history.” And if that doesn’t reckon a celebration, Shinji doesn’t know what else does. Sure, the bastard might not have gone by his hands, but at least they know he’s gone. Sealed. Or at least, so long as Central 46 doesn’t fuck up again.
The human doctor cocks his head, eyeing him sceptically.
“…Pardon me. I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”
Shinji returns him an incredulous look. He gestures to the man who he’d been stepping on not even a whole five minutes earlier.
“Aizen Sousuke. The man whose blood we’ve been after for years? What d’ya mean ya not sure what I’m sayin’?” He laughs, just a tad breathless, maybe even slightly delirious from blood loss.
The human doctor hesitates. Now, he’s peering at Shinji as if he’s the one who’s out of his mind.
“…Perhaps, you should take a seat. I was quite confident that I had aimed the effects of my hypnosis mic at its intended audience, but it appears my skills has gotten rusty over the years.”
Is he listening to himself?
Shinji peers up at the rest of their none too subtly listening audience. Realization seems to have dawned upon several of them, the Soutaicho not exclusive, but it’s Kisuke in the end who steps forward to wave a hand before the human doctor’s concerned face. There’s nary a flicker in the human doc’s azure blue eyes that shows he had seen it. He peers beseechingly at Shinji, almost distressingly concerned with the way Shinji’s jaw drops and an incredulous laugh threatens to pull its way out of him.
“…Hirako-kun?” The human doc questions. “Hallucinations are a common side-effect of the hypnosis mic. Just take a deep breath and allow me to patch you up.”
“Hallucinations—?” Shinji chokes on his breath and he shifts his weight the wrong way, causing him to go dropping towards the ground. The human doc watches him with azure eyes widened by a fraction. Shinji cackles the whole time into a palm, unable to help it.
They’ve been saved by a human, and it’s not even Ichigo. Seireitei – and them, granted – had gotten their asses kicked by Aizen, and the one who defeated him is a human who can’t even see them! This goes miles in showing how dastardly all of them has failed.
“…Hm.” The human doc goes back to holding his chin. This time, a perplexed look takes over his face and a bead of sweat trickles down his side. He looks over at Hachi. “Has he shown any symptoms of depression lately? Namely, weight loss, mood swings, loss of appetite, or any other behaviours along the same line?”
“What the heck are ya laughing over, baldy?!” A slipper hits Shinji’s head and silences his spell.
“…He’s been receiving one too many hits to his head, if that counts.” Hachi volunteers evenly.
Shinji didn’t know it’s possible to feel so relieved the literal pain in his ass is back.
“…That darn brat.” He mutters to himself. Pulling himself up from the ground, Shinji turns to catch sight of the pesky monkey kid taking a hitch hike on some man’s back. A human, more specifically. With rusty red curls, dark shadows beneath his eyes, and being flanked by a trio of human brats who also shouldn’t have anything to do with the battlefield. (All of them have got their own burdens though. Lisa and Mashiro, more specifically. And some other Shinigami.) Oh, and they’re being stalked from a distance by a suited blonde who perks up upon seeing the human doc.
“Sensei!” The blonde waves cheerily and dramatically from where they’re trudging towards them.
The human doc doesn’t reply, but he lifts his hand to offer an unsure wave.
The blonde zooms past his compatriots to jog up to them.
“The town was so scary! There wasn’t anyone there but there were explosions, like, all over the place! But when we did as you said and we rapped, the sounds all went away! This is what they’d say a supernatural experience, I guess?!” He’s chattering off everyone’s ears with a cheery grin all the while.
Behind him, Shinji winces when he catches Hiyori tugging roughly on the redhead’s hair.
“Get a move on already, will ya?! I can’t even manage a proper aim like this, can I?!”
The human doc dutifully dodges the next slipper that comes towards them.
“Like your shitty aim needs any improving.” Shinji grumbles.
“HAH?!”
The three younger humans have stopped in their tracks, mismatched eyes dodging around the vicinity, clearly seeing whatever it is the three other humans aren’t seeing. Their whispers are too soft to catch, but it’s only after Lisa leans in and murmurs something into the ears of the oldest one that he gives a nod. They continue their wary approach. Clearly, he’s a natural leader like Ichigo. He keeps his eyes out on his brothers’ backs as they look around, jaws dropped in awe, hands never an inch away from that mic hooked on his belt.
“I don’t get this in the slightest.” Shinji heaves an open-mouthed sigh and shoots Kisuke a look.
“I totally didn’t have a clue about this in the slightest.” The shopkeeper offers a powerless smile and a shrug. He’s replied with a gruff frown from Isshin and a huff. “How useless are you?” But it’s Yoruichi who smacks the shopkeeper over the head with a knowing look. “Don’t lie now, Kisuke! You mentioned something about an ace in the hole—” So Kisuke did know something about this.
However, Shinji ignores them for now and shifts his eyes onto the one before him.
“Who are ya? An’ how d’ya know me?” Cos those are probably the right questions to ask, given how Kisuke’s roundabout ways always deserves a whole monologue to be given attention at a separate time.
The human doc blinks down at him. He quirks a humourless smile at him, even as he drops down to one knee and begins pulling bandages out of his pockets. (How deep are those things?)
“We’ve met, if you recall, at your home base by the outskirts of Karakura.”
Shinji scrunches his brows at the answer. He tries to remember when that might have happened.
“They’re mine. All of them. Right down to their last hair and teeth, they’re mine.”
The human kid who’d used to come around – Aohitsugi Samatoki. He had high reiatsu and Hiyori unintentionally saved him from a hollow back when he was eight. That kid had smirked cockily with smudges of fondness buried deep within possessiveness. It’s only that touch of fondness that stopped them from mauling him the first time round for his words, and consequently, to roll their eyes dismissively (and dare he admit, fondly) the subsequent times.
Shinji had groaned at the sound, head still pounding from the sake. And Hiyori had grabbed the closest thing she could find to fling it in the kid’s direction.
“Keep yer trap shut, you little pest! And get yer ass outta here!”
Shinji could tell, even without parting an eye, that Samatoki had caught the projectile.
“They don’t seem to be overly fond of you.” A deep rumble of an unfamiliar voice had spoken then.
Shinji cracked open an eye. Kid’s finally making friends?
He’s greeted by the shock of a man with long grey locks flowing from a ponytail, azure eyes skimming the room evenly. In the faint light of the afternoon illuminating his back, the tall man had casted an unbelievable silhouette with his white doctor’s coat on the dark drabs of a military man. For a moment, Shinji mistook him for a new captain and tensed. But a warning look from Lisa, who was the most sober and closest one to the entrance of them, stilled his sword.
“I don’t need these motherfuckers to like me.” The kid had answered but hooked a hand over the man’s shoulder so as to haul him off. He’d always been sharp about picking up these sorta things. “Let’s get going. I’ve got other territory I’ve gotta show you. Gotta make them ‘more humane’ now, don’t I?” He could hear the eyeroll in the kid’s words. What the heck’s all that about?
In the aftermath of that meeting, Shinji had dropped his head back to his mattress.
Whatever. Things could go to hell for all he cares whilst his head’s wrecking up a storm for his consumption of liquor.
“We’ve met. Whilst I was drunk off my ass.” Shinji is decidedly unimpressed. He decides the other should feel the same too, except he’s tucking the last of the bandages into Shinji’s thigh, diligently composed. Looking down, Shinji catches the azure eyes which flicker up to the mark on his cheek. “And I thought for sure that yer were a new capt’n.”
If the human doc is confused about his so-called ‘delusions’, he doesn’t show it.
“Hold still. This may sting a little.”
Shinji doesn’t bat an eye at the alcohol rubbed into his wound. He was a captain too for centuries, you know?
Lifting a brow, the human doctor drops his hands down to his medical kit. Deciding that the ‘sensei’ is far too preoccupied to deal with his antics, the blonde decides to flutter back to his grumbling redheaded friend, catching the eyes of too many Shinigami all the while. (He’s a beau that one, sure. But he’s just not to Shinji’s tastes.) The visored blinks when two hands raise up to press a bandaid over his wound.
In his diligent treatment, a strand of grey has fallen over the human doc’s shoulder and it hangs trepid at the side of his face, not unlike a tendril or a seaweed. It’s oddly mesmerizing, in a grotesque sort of way, given how sharp he had looked back in the days.
“This is, lamentably, the only kind I have on hand.” The doctor tells him.
“Huh?” Shinji blinks. He realizes, in the next second, that Kisuke’s peering in their direction with a knowing look and Yoruichi has shunpoed over to his side in the next instant.
“You’re looking good, Shinji. And I see someone’s got a crush on the human?” She snickers.
A horrified look comes over the oldest human brat, who straightens and turns to them so suddenly, Shinji hears an audible crack coming from his neck.
Shinji doesn’t shove Yoruichi back, figuring that’s how she might have drawn her lifetime of amusement from Ichigo. (That one’s fun to tease. He’ll give her that.) Instead, he grins and he reaches out a hand to tuck the lock of grey behind the doctor’s ear, drawling.
“Hey, the last thing ya’ll be seein’ me do is ta complain over being treated. Ya could’ve given me hello kitty bandaids and I’ll still be thankful.”
The human doc blinks, surprised.
Behind him, he sees the blonde catch sight of the gesture, immediately rushing to the redhead and whispering conspiratorially into his ears. The poor guy, who had just been freed of Hiyori, looks equal parts haunted and exasperated at whatever he’s hearing.
Inclining his head, the human doc pulls back. Shinji’s just a bit disappointed that didn’t get a rise outta him.
“I see your demeanour differs significantly when you’re sober.” The human doc comments, dryly amused. He takes Shinji’s hand just as he was lowering it from the other’s ear. A gloved hand slides into his grip and shakes his, firmly but gently. (Shinji’s charmed.) “Jinguji Jakurai is my name. Even though this is a late introduction, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Hirako Shinji. Ya already know me.” Shinji smirks at Yoruichi’s light huff as she withdraws. And he peers into composed azures. “So, as a show of my gratitude, do ya wanna grab a coffee sometime—”
BOOM!
Comes the sound of something, as a garganta rips the skies and three humans come flying out.
Shinji can barely stifle a frown at his interrupted invitation when two of the bright-coloured ones, Pinkie and Samatoki, land smoothly on their feet. Ichigo, on the other hand, skids a good three blocks on his face before coming to a stop. They’re followed by more of their friends, each leaving hueco mundo in style.
Shinji turns to look back at Jakurai in exasperation, and he stops at the crinkle of azure eyes looking on at the chaotic scene of screaming shinigami’s, destructive Kenpachi’s, and the decidedly chilling smile of Unohana. (Alright. So maybe those aren’t the ones he’s focusing on. But that pinkie and Samatoki going around teasing and cursing respectively at the shinigamis are still a major part of the chaos.)
Shinji inwardly heaves a sigh and allows the words to die a calm, sound death. It probably ain’t such a good idea to get to know humans anyways.
However, his hand is turned over and a pen etches out numbers on his palm.
“…I’m honestly flattered to be invited by a person of your age.” Jakurai gives a smile that’s entirely calm yet barely hides his sincerity with its muted edges. “If you’re still this passionate about it after thinking over it, you may contact me at this number. I’ll be available any time.”
And then, he’s packing up his medical kit, strutting away to grab at Samatoki and Pinkie with gentle-rough hands to fix their wounds.
Shinji is stunned. He’s also mesmerized by that human doctor, but more than that…
“Did he just reject me because of my age?” He draws his brows together, because that can’t be it.
Yoruichi bursts out in abrupt snickers.