Well, in a way. Koutarou is a helper by nature. The guy is probably going to find the first person who needs it and spend the rest of the day trying to help said person if he can.
It's just his nature.
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Well, in a way. Koutarou is a helper by nature. The guy is probably going to find the first person who needs it and spend the rest of the day trying to help said person if he can.
It's just his nature.
His nature, hmmm? Did he get here to get a place to sleep, or to volunteer?
Most people here are either victims of domestic abuse on the run, drug addicts, or honest-to-God hobos. The first kind tend to be suspicious of strange men, fair or not, and so are the staff of the facility. The second kind are somewhat beyond Koutarou's ability to immediately help. As for the third kind, it's not obvious that they want or even need help.
In any case, after hearing his story, the receptionist offers Koutarou a room. They make it clear though that this is one-night arrangement and he really should go to the police first thing in the morning. On the way to his new quarters, Koutarou might notice an old man in worn clothes, fumbling with his keys as he's trying to get into his. The keys fall from his shaky hands and clatter on the floor.
Koutarou promptly kneels and reaches for the keys, offering them up to the old man. "Here you go, sir."
The old man is surprised to have someone rush to his help. "Why, thank you. Thank you." He reaches for the key with a shaky hand. Maybe it would be better if someone opened the door for him.
"Can I help you with that?" Koutarou replies with a smile.
Some people can be very prideful about that sort of thing.
The old man blinks, looks at the key, then offers it back to Koutarou. "If you would be so kind? It seems old age has got the best of me. Small things just don't stay in my fingers like they used to." The man's voice is a strange mix of embarrassement, sadness and relief. It might be he's not used to people being this helpfull, given where they are.
"Unfortunately, it comes to us all." Koutarou replies with genuine mirth as he fiddles about with the key. "That is why I try to do unto others as I'd like others to do unto me. I'm a big believer in karma that way." As the door unlocks, he smiles back at the old man. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, I don't think. Thank you again, young man. Thank you." The old man nods and smiles, taking back the key as the door swings open.
It's a very minimalistic apartment that Koutarou catches a glimpse if. Just a bed, a nightstand and a closet, and a door to a small bathroom. Based on the still air, no-one living has set foot in it for a day at least. Yet, Koutarou is overwhelmed by the sense that someone's already there, just out of sight.
Koutarou reaches for the old man's chest to pause him for a moment. "Sir, could you wait outside a second? I just smelled something awful in there, and I want to make sure you're not walking into a room with a clogged toilet." It's a sad excuse, but who knows, maybe the old man will listen to him.
"Huh? I do not smell anything", the old man says, perplexed. "But do check. What do I know?"
If Koutarou takes a peek further into the room, he sees a familiar black shade standing in the corner. Just like before, like burned on his retinas rather than some real part of the world, visible in bright colors despite the room being dark, a magenta-haired girl in a black shirt and black hakama, a red sash around her waist and a black-hilted katana in a black lacquered sheath hanging from it. She pays him no attention.
Weird, I should've felt her Reiatsu before I stepped into the room. What is she hiding from?
Turning to the old man, he replies, "Oh my, it does look like a mess in here. Let me find the source."
Then he closes the door, steps closer and lightly bonks the girl in the head.
"Ummm... it is? Shouldn't we call the..." The old man's voice is cut off by the door shutting. The girl snaps out of it, as if finally noticing something is out of the ordinary. She looks questioningly at Koutarou as he takes a step forward. She clearly wasn't expecting him, and that's likely also the reason why she doesn't dodge when Koutarou bops her on the head. "OW! What the Hell!?! What are you doing here? Do you love interfering with people's jobs?", she cries, holding her head. She's not sparing her voice, she has no reason to fear being overheard.
But Koutarou does, and that's why he signals for her to be silent and follow, not that he expects her to go along with it, adding quietly, "If I am to not interfere with your job, I need to speak to you somewhere private, and this is not it."
Truth be told, the bopping on her head was also a bit of a test. Of what, she'll have to wait until later to find out.
Whether she agrees or not, Koutarou heads quickly to the bathroom, flushes the toilet, then heads back out the door.
"There we go. It looks like the last tenant here had left a nasty little present behind." He replies, making a face. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I hope you have a good night."
The girl rolls her eyes. "Fine. I'll meet you in your room, you nuisance!" She unceremoniously steps through the wall behind her back, vanishing from Koutarou's line of sight.
The old man is still waiting just outside the door, looking a bit lost. He perks up when Koutarou steps outside. "I... thank you... I suppose", he says hesitantly, looking after the man. "Have... have a good night as well."
Koutarou felt a little bad lying to the old man, but there was no helping that situation. For all he knew it could have been a Hollow. Or someone going after him.
Once inside his room, he locked up, took a deep breath and spoke to the girl again. "Alright. Sorry for that, but I did have to make sure not to blow my cover. Now... I'm pretty sure I left you some several hundreds of kilometers away from here. What happened?"
"What do you mean, 'what happened'? I did my job. Day like any other", the girl snarks from the corner of the room. Her arms are crossed and she seems to be leaning against the wall, but whether it is supporting any of her weight is unclear. "Besides, that was..." She pulls out a smartphone and checks its display. "... half a day ago, from your perspective. You obviously were fast enough to get here in that time, so what's wondrous about me being here? If anything, it's more surprising you're here, since you don't seem to have any reason to."
"We both seem to be operating under the assumption that the other is chasing us." Koutarou considers. "So either we were drawn to the same thing or this is a huge coincidence. The latter I don't believe in, especially considering the usual patterns of Shinigami patrols."
"I had no reason to think you were here because of me untill you came and hit me square on the head", the girl retorts. "It is all a coincidence. Come on, why'd you think it's anything else? People die daily all around, even a country as small as this. You would've run into me sooner or later. " She checks her phone. "You still have something? Got five minutes before the geezer over there kicks the bucket."
It was kind of sad, but there was no going around that. A younger Koutarou would've wondered if there was no way to save him.
Wait...
"Since when do Shinigami act on a prediction basis?" His tone indicates he's more confused about her methods than her actions themselves. "At the pile-up, too, you acted like you knew who and how many were going to die. Moreover, if this old man is going to die of natural causes, he has a much larger chance of crossing straight into Soul Society, so how do you know he's going to need Konsou?"
The girl's brow furrows. "Since when? Since always. What, you think it'd be better if we didn't and just wandered around randomly, hoping to catch souls of the deceased before they go crazy?"
"If what you claim were to be true, then there would be no such thing as Hollows. We'd always be there to purify any souls before their soul chain could possibly erode. And that's if the process did not take a fairly long time on its own.
There is no way that Shinigami have attained the power to predict the future. Not to this extent."
The girl looks at Koutarou. "Hollows have not been a thing for 45 years. Well, not save for individual cases when one of us screws up. We exterminated the last of them after the War to end all Wars."
"...who is your current Commander-General?"
An ugly smirk spreads on the girl's face. "Amaterasu Naomi." She checks her phone. "Still something? You got two minutes."
Koutarou might remember that name. She used to be his superior too, once. Before being executed for treason 18 years ago, from Koutarou's perspective.
"That can't be right..." He mutters to himself. He wouldn't find it strange that she didn't recognize him as her Commander. But a Commander that's SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD is a bit much. "What year is this supposed to be?"
"See, that's the kind of question you should've asked from the humans as first thing. Along with where you are", the girl says, not even trying to hide her contempt. "Or just taken a peek at a newspaper somewhere. Don't tell me it didn't cross your mind."
Or course, he did take a peek at a newspaper. 1st if April. Five years ago. Maybe it wasn't a jest.
It still didn't make sense.
"The Commander you mentioned should have been dead for at least ten years. The war you mentioned should not have happened for at least five. So there's quite a lot wrong with this picture.
Do you know an officer called Ishinomori Koutarou?"
"Okay, NOW you're just being daft", the girl says, covering her face with her palm. "I called you out by name half a day ago. Memory of a goldfish, much? Anyways, times up. A reaper's got to reap." She stands straight and prepares to go back the way she came - that is, through the wall.
"Just... come back when you're done?" He asks hopefully.
Not a good idea to stick around while she's doing the deed. Someone might think he had something to do with it.
The girl waves her hand flippantly. "Sure." Then she vanishes from sight, through the wall.
Immediately after, Koutarou hears a voice from behind himself. "You know, you really are precious. Even given a blatant reason to think she's lying, you just let her walk away. I wonder, is that overconfidence or naivete?"
Oh hey. It's her again, leaning against the door of the room, arms crossed, speaking with her eyes closed. Or at least it's the same uniform. Same Zanpakuto. Same face. But her hair... it's dark now. The sense of familiarity, of having seen her before, is even more intense now.