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No one had opened the wardrobe in years. It had sat there in the back of the warehouse gathering dust for decades without so much as few stray fingertips brushing it ever so often. Sometimes, in the earlier years, they’d fight over whether to keep the piece of junk. Kensei argued that it was nothing but an eyesore and he couldn’t bear to look at the simple, wooden doors without becoming angry. The more practical Rojuro argued that it would soon attract a lot more than just dust; termites and louses would soon find home within the fibers. But their arguments turned out to be nothing but words and no one ever made an effort to throw it out. Maybe it was sentiment that had kept it around instead of just laziness. Whatever the reason, its time of sleeping was now over. After digging it out of a few other pieces of old furnishings that had found themselves piling up in the far corner of the warehouse, Shinji finally cracked open the doors, a cloud of dust and the musty smell of time filling the air.
Everything was still in place after all these years. All of their robes and uniforms still lied within the basin of the wardrobe, neatly folded on top of one another in eight piles. Some of the piles held only a simple uniform in faded black with white trim, dusty badges adoring the top. Others were wrapped in a white piece of cloth that were still so white they seemed to glow from within the wardrobe. He took the first few from the top, frowning at one of the badges adorned with a stylized thistle flower. He handled the garments with care, setting down each pile next to him gently. Each one had one thing that made them different from the rest: either a white poppy, a strelitzia or a number in Gotei 13′s style. Almost near the end of the pile, he found the uniform he was looking for. Sighing a bit, he unfolded the wrapped parcel, shaking off the white robe to rid it of dust bunnies. Already, the memories of the past began to play in his mind just seeing the white cloth adorned with black accents and the boxed character ‘5′ on the back; his Captain’s robe. His fingers trembled as he placed the robe loosely around his shoulders and began to unfold the black uniform within it. The fibers had held up good over the years only aquiring a few moth holes and dusty spots. But, as his fingers unfolded the top, they stopped cold on a large tear on the shoulder. Trembling, he ran his fingers over and over the tear maybe hoping he now had enough experience to make the rip disappear forever.
That night still haunted him. He could still strongly smell the blood in the air and of something similar to ground bone. Deep bellows still rang in his ears and warped voices that were not his own. It didn’t matter how many years went by, he was still haunted. They still haunted him …
“Hey, stupid Baldy! What the hell are you doing?” A voice cut through his violently flashing memories. He tensed up, swiveling around on his heels to face the voice.
“H-Hiyori!”
“Don’t act so surprised, I live here too, damnit,” She snarled, her lip lifting up. She effortlessly hopped over towards him. “What are you doing over here?”
“Getting my old uniform.”
“Eh? Why the hell would you do that?” Hiyori’s frown deepened as she saw the folded pile of clothes at his side and the open wardrobe releasing stale memories into the air. “What? Did that whole fight with the old man turn you into a sap for Shinigamis again?”
“Hell no.” It was only partially a lie. He folded back up his uniform, gracefully shrugging the Captain’s robe off.
“Then what? You finally gonna convince everyone to get rid of this crap?”
Shinji pursed his lips together nervously. Of course, she just happened to be the first one to find him. He thought someone would notice him opening the wardrobe eventually but of all the people, why did it have to be her? Anyone else would had made this easier. Why couldn’t it had been Rojuro? Or Hachi? Or Mashiro even? He wouldn’t have to deal with the bitterness he knew she was still harboring deep within her, at least. He reached back to scratch the back of his neck with a mutter. “Well …”
“C’mon, spit it out. You’re acting weird and it ain’t cute.”
“Ugh, give me a moment.” He scoffed, placing his folded uniform on top of the wardrobe. With one last groaning sigh, he locked his gaze with her. “Kisuke gave me a message today. Gotei 13 wants to reinstate Rose, Kensei and I as Captains.”
No sooner as the words had left his mouth that Hiyori’s nose upturned into a vicious sneer. “You gotta be joking. They want you back as Captain? Of what?”
“The fifth squad, obviously. And Rose and Kensei as third and ninth.”
“Really? They decide this now?” Hiyori folded her arms across her chest, her sandaled feet tapping almost impatiently on the floor. “One hundred years later and they think we’re just gonna come back with our tails between our legs and join their ranks after what they did to us? What kind of shitheads are they?”
“Hiyori,” Usually, when he spoke her name, it was more of a forceful snap. But, instead, he’d said her name almost in a melancholy tone. “I’m considering going back.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m considering taking the offer to be the Captain of the fifth squad again.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding. You’re actually thinking of going back?”
“Okay, don’t take it wrong!” Shinji said sharply, his hands falling to his hips. “I’m not–”
“Shinji, did you forget the part where Central 46 treated us like shit and wanted us dead? Did you forget that we were exiled because otherwise they were gonna slaughter us because of something one of the higher ups did?”
“Hell no, I didn’t forget that! But–”
“Did you forget about the part where they literally were gonna leave us to die?”
“Hiyori, shut up!” He reached down, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Listen to me, willya?”
She hissed, “I think I’ve heard plenty! You want to go back to the very people that let this happen to us!”
“Listen! For just a few seconds, listen to me!” He gave her small shake before forcing his words back at her. “There is no way in hell I’d ever forget what happened, don’t you dare accuse me of forgetting!”
“Then what, Shinji? What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”
“Picking up where I left off.” He pushed her back a little as he turned back to the old wardrobe. “Sosuke’s in prison now. Gin and Tousen are dead. Gotei 13 is in disaray after the war and they asked us to help. I … I need to fix what Sosuke created.”
“Fix what Sosuke created? What? You think yourself to be a great hero or something?” Her face had gone from a soft pink to bright red with boiling anger. She jumped up, her open palm striking Shinji square across the face. “We’re not Shinigami anymore, idiot! We haven’t been for decades! They rejected us! We gave them so much and they threw us away!”
“And I want to change their opinion!” Unfased by being slapped, he began throwing the uniforms haphazardly back into the wardrobe. “They’re suffering more than we are right now and they need someone to keep things together.”
“Shinji, we’re monsters! They’ll never accept us!”
Her words hung like icicles in the air. Shinji stared at the back of the wardrobe, his shoulders suddenly heavy. Hiyori still stood strong on the ground but her anger had boiled over and tears now streamed down her furious face. In one fluid movement, she waved her hand in front of her face causing white matter to form quickly over her, creating a terrifying horned mask across her entire countenance. She screamed in a warped voice, “Look at us! You wanna fix what Sosuke created? He fucking created this! He created us! And you think the Shinigami are just going to appreciate this? They kill Hollows, Shinji! They’ll kill you!”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Calmly, he placed his hands on her shoulders again. “Really? You’re worried about me dying, huh? That’s cute.” His words didn’t match the solemn expression on his face. He softly lifted the mask off Hiyori’s face, smirking a bit at the beads of tears. “Don’t cry. You ain’t cute when you cry.”
“Don’t patronize me.” Her biting words came out slowly as they tried to fight their way through tears. “Shinji, I’m serious. We’re not Shinigami anymore. I … I don’t want you to go back there.”
“I know. But I’m serious too.” He smiled as the mask dissapated with Hiyori’s outburst of anger. Flashing a toothy grin, he ruffled her blonde hair. “I’ll be honest, I’m worried about what they’ll think of me too. You’re right; we’re not Shinigami. Sosuke fucked us over good. But I feel like maybe they’ll look past that now. Maybe we can go back to the way things used to be.” He looked back at the wardrobe and reached down, picking up one of the uniforms and placing it in Hiyori’s hands. “You gotta let go of the past sometime. The more we keep this locked up, the more pain we’re gonna create for ourselves. I’m thinking that maybe it’s time for me to face my fears and move on.”