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The Noble Sort	By : Melissarose8585 Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 4411 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or make any money off of this story. All rights belong to Tite Kubo.

Chapter List
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A/N: Sorry so late! I'm actually updating from Salt Lake City, where it's snowing and I'm living out of a hotel while my mother finds herself a place to live. She was transferred and I came with her (I love to travel). So everything is very interesting right now and I'm enjoying it, but it's a ton of stuff to deal with right now.

There is also something very important here that I'll need feedback on—from this point, the story splits. I had two endings in my head, one of which I've decided to make the official ending and another that has become the alternate ending. I'll be posting the ending I've chosen, with a small synopsis of the other ending and the final scene of that ending. I'll post it after the story is done, probably with the epilogue.

The song is actually Vienna Teng's "Lullaby for a Stormy Night." She's an incredibly talented musician, for those of you who have never heard of her. I highly recommend everything she's done.

And AFF mods, if one should read this>Awesome Uploader! I saved about twenty minutes a chapter with the new format.

Enjoy!

"The Noble Sort"

Wednesday Morning

She would admit it now, she was scared.

Oji-san had been allowed in with her—a first—but only because they would be reading off their final verdict and he was not only the sou-taichou, he was her closest family member. The verdict would affect him as much as it would her.

The members of Central were convened and ready in front of them, but the speaker had not moved to read off the verdict. Instead he was simply staring at them, a puzzled look on his face.

Finally, though, he cleared his throat and stared down at her. His eyes locked with hers.

"We have reached our decision. I would request your silence until I have finished, or at least until I ask for your reply—this is the first case the newly-reconvened Central has tried other than that of Aizen Sousuke; the decision will reflect the new policies we have implemented. This will be confusing."

She nodded, as did the sou-taichou.

"Very well." The speaker adjusted his glasses and stared down at the sheet of paper in front of him. "On the count of treason against Seireitei through the disruption of the soul balance, we have found you to be innocent. The evidence proves that you continued to preserve the balance while in exile, which has been taken into consideration."

She nodded. That had been expected.

"On the three counts of willful murder of serving shinigami—specifically, serving shinigami that were of taichou class—we have found you to be guilty." She felt her mouth open and close in shock. "However, as the three victims were not only criminals but ordered to be executed by the sou-taichou, an order which Zero-taichou has stated he will second, the official statement will read that you have been found guilty of carrying out three assassinations in the service of the Gōtei and Seireitei."

She just stared at him; he had almost given her a heart attack with that one.

"Do you understand the difference, Yamamoto-san?"

"Not really," she said dryly.

"Officially, you will be found guilty. But it will be no more than a reprimand in your file for overseeing an official order while not a serving shinigami. There will be no imprisonment."

She nodded. That she understood.

"On the count of staying in the human world beyond an allotted time for a mission—almost a century too long—we also find you guilty." He shot her a look over his glasses. "Precedent has been set in this matter; I believe that is what the humans call it, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Indeed. As you have been in the service of Seireitei during your exile, there will be no sentencing for this crime. It will be recorded in your file as an official reprimand, but the case of Urahara Kisuke, 499-2, his second trial, has set a standard for such crimes."

"Not that they were punished severely before," she heard her uncle mutter. Apparently a sore point with him.

"Finally," the speaker said, and she sat up straighter—this was the sticking point, "on the seven counts of murder in the human world, the victims being humans without reiatsu capabilities, we also find you guilty."

She felt the breath whoosh out of her. Even her uncle was tense next to her, his hand clenched on his cane.

It had all been for nothing then. She had been right. They would use this to hang her and have their scapegoat for the whole ordeal; she would go down for Matsu's crimes.

"We deliberated long to come to a proper sentence for this crime. To be honest, we were not sure if sentencing was appropriate." He shuffled a few papers in front of him, and the noise was loud in the silence of the chamber. "There has only been one previous case of a shinigami killing a human in self-defense."

She hadn't known there had even been one.

"The shinigami in this case was sentenced to three decades imprisonment—a decade for each victim. It was, then, a lax punishment for one of our most severe crimes. Yet," he said, glancing at a very well-dressed man a few seats away from him, "I have also been informed that we might set an even worse precedent if we did not take your situation into careful consideration."

Her eyes flicked around the room, taking in the faces of the men and women staring back at her.

"If we sentence you to imprisonment, the newly formed Central will be setting the precedent that those who defend their lives will be punished. It is a precedent we have deliberated over—shinigami have always been allowed to protect themselves, even at the cost of another's life. The only time this has been forbidden was in the case of humans."

"I still don't understand," she muttered.

"You would have to be the first we tried for this," the speaker said, exasperated. "We have decided that imprisonment for actions taken to defend your life is too harsh. Your sentence will be service instead."

"Service?"

"For the three reprimands—for assassination—you will serve fifteen years." She felt her heart drop to her feet. Fifteen years in service for reprimands? The new Central was supposedly more lenient than before—this was definitely not lenient.

And what the hell was "service?"

"For the seven counts of human murder, in self-defense, you will also receive official reprimand. These seven counts will add seventy years of service to your sentence."

Okay. Eighty-five years of service. But what the fuck was service?

"You should be overjoyed, Yamamoto-san," the speaker said dryly, and she stared at him in confusion.

"I—what do you mean, service? I get that you've obviously modeled this on community service—nice way to implement the human legal system, by the way—but I have no clue what you want me to do!"

"You will report to the First Division for retesting and subsequent assignment by the end of next week. You have eighty-five years to serve in the service of Seireitei before you can officially make any decision regarding your shinigami status personally."

Oh.

That is all you have to say, onna?

"Your pay will be reduced to one half of your standard at whatever rank you may achieve throughout that time. Your frozen wages will be returned to Seireitei as fines for your crimes, with a designated amount going directly to the accounts of Zero. Other than the fines and the compulsory service, though, you are free."

Wow.

"Yamamoto-san?"

"I think she's in shock," she heard oji-san mutter. And he was right.

"Definitely a change—this is the first time she hasn't had a sarcastic remark to make," the speaker said, but she could hear the amusement in his voice.

She didn't care.

It was finally over.

Minako stared at the ivory keys in front of her. She hadn't sat at this piano since—it had been entirely too long.

The party was done, now. It had been more an informal dinner, carried out at the estate in celebration of her sentencing. It still sounded weird to her; she was guilty of three out of four crimes but her only punishment was reduced wages and a return to Seireitei.

It didn't bother her one bit though.

Akane's had been the same, only she would be serving fifteen years and, to the girl's delight, oji-san had already decided to put her in the Second Division. Her hatred of shinigami had faded quickly in light of secret corps. training. Minako was happy for her; the girl truly deserved it. And she would be safe from her family's influence there—they wouldn't be able to get to her if she only lived in the barracks.

Although they owed the Katsumoto family—the noble in Central that had helped them get service instead of imprisonment had been one of her family members. She would have to come up with something to repay them while keeping Akane out of their reach; if they thought she wouldn't protect her now that they were both reinstated, they had another thing coming.

But they had gone through everything during dinner, retelling the story for those present, and they finally had everything all figured out. Other than the fact that she had to be tested and a place found for her, it had all worked out. Everyone had been thrilled.

Now everyone was gone, the excitement over, and she felt like playing.

Except, she had no sheet music. Her reiatsu was free again but she couldn't call up a gate or butterfly for travel to the human world on her own under any circumstance for at least a year. She was stuck playing whatever she had memorized and nothing was coming to her.

She let her fingers play part of a Bach aria she had memorized years ago, but her heart wasn't in it tonight. Bach wasn't what she wanted.

"Sensei?"

"You don't have to call me that anymore, Akane," she said lightly, her fingers still ghosting over the keys.

"What are you doing back here?"

"Trying to play, although I have no music to play by." She sent the girl a silly, self-deprecating grin. She ended the little piece she had been playing jarringly, the notes harsh.

"Play my song, then," Akane murmured as she slid down the wall to the floor.

"It's not raining."

"After what we just went through, I think we could both use it. Maybe we could finally get a good night's sleep for once."

Minako smiled.

She let her fingers fly across the keys, the sounds of the piano soft and tinkling.

"When was the last time we sat like this? No plans, no worrying, just relaxing with a piano?"

"At least a year ago—the typhoon, maybe," Akane said, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Although that thing you call a piano at home isn't nearly as nice as this."

"The rain pounds harsh against the glass like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger, I am here tonight." She shut her eyes, letting her memory take over; her body knew how to play the song, her mind knew the words and the pitch of the notes. "Thunder explodes and lightning flash illuminates your tear-stained face, and I am here tonight."

She continued to play, her eyes closed even though she could feel Akane staring at her. The song was one she wrote decades earlier, not even a month after she first met the girl. Then Akane had been a young teen, still young enough to be scared by what she faced in the human world.

Not that age had much to do with that; Minako could remember the feeling herself and she had been much older.

Singing had been one of the few things that calmed the skittish girl down. So Minako sang; it had worked for the small amount of time the girl had lived with her when she first came to the human world.

As always, at the end of the song, Akane joined her. Her voice was higher, softer, not really fitting for the song, but she had always joined in at the end.

"And I hope that you know that nature is so, the same rain that draws you near me falls on rivers and land, on forests and sand, makes the beautiful world that you'll see in the morning." She looked at the girl, whose eyes were starting to slip closed.

The music faded softly, but neither woman moved.

"I couldn't get the Green Island Serenade, too, could I?" Akane asked hopefully, and Minako laughed softly.

"I think we've had enough for tonight. People will think I've gone soft."

Akane pushed herself off the floor as she shut the lid of the piano—Hikaru would kill her if she forgot and dust got between the ivory keys. The piano was not only antique, it was literally priceless. It had been brought from the real world sometime in the early 1800's. It was the first instrument she had learned on—one of the two her mother and uncle had insisted on. Shamisen and piano.

"You are soft, sensei. But we like you that way," Akane said, and then she squealed as Minako dashed down the hall after her.

"You were conspicuously absent from the party tonight, Ukitake," Shunsui said leaning over the small table in his quarters.

"I would not have been welcome, although I am very pleased her sentence was light." He shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, I spent much of the day in the Fourth Division. I'm fine, I'm fine," he said waving away the concern that crossed his friend's face. "Just a bad coughing spell."

Both men leaned backwards as Nanao approached, three steaming cups of tea on the tray in her hands. She set each out at their respective spots before sinking down onto her own cushion. She had been at the party, and she was tired. But like the two men with her, she was happy her friend would not be going to jail.

"Still haven't apologized then?"

"She won't even talk to me! I can't apologize when I can't get her in the same room."

"You should do so soon, Ukitake-taichou," Nanao said, holding her steaming cup in front of her face. "The longer you wait, the longer she will have to build up her anger. Or worse."

"It can get worse?"

"She could decide to parade another man in front of you," Shunsui teased halfheartedly. "Or—or really find another man. That is why you should hurry up, Juu. Patience isn't always a virtue."

"I've tried," the man said exasperatedly. "She won't even see me. Genryuusai-sensei even asked her to see me…she continues to say no."

Nanao nodded thoughtfully, her brow furrowed.

"Was there any indication of where she'll be serving?" Juushirou asked, fingering his teacup.

"No," Shunsui said, his brown eyes shining with sympathy. "She will report in the next few days and go through some testing, most likely so they know what level she's at. Although we all know the answer to that."

"And we have two open taichou positions," Nanao murmured.

"We do. And no fuku-taichou that wish to advance—unusual!" he said, smiling at his own fuku-taichou. Nanao would not advance if it was offered, although he knew it had not been. She was not yet proficient enough with her zanpakutou for her own division. Another century, though, and she would be a formidable opponent with both her kidō and her weapon, one worthy of her own team. Not that he would let her leave the Eighth.

He hoped she wouldn't want to leave.

"And someone has an empty fuku-taichou position," Shunsui said slyly, glancing at his friend.

"She wouldn't," the pale taichou muttered, "she'd go to jail first."

"Well, either way, she'll be in Seireitei. It will make begging for mercy that much easier on your knees, old friend."

"I hate you sometimes," Juushirou muttered into his teacup.

"Yare, I'm just returning the favor. How many times have you made fun of me for my lady-troubles?" Shunsui laughed. "At least you still have your bonsai, yes?"

The pale man shot him a halfhearted glare.

Nanao covered her mouth with her hand, suppressing a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh to the taichou of the Thirteenth.

"I have to do something. This is not how I pictured spending my nights, not that I don't enjoy spending time with you two." He furrowed his brows, his eyes focused on his tea. "And plants only keep you occupied so long."

"Perhaps you should do the same thing that got you in trouble—sneak in during the night and try to talk to her when she least expects it," Shunsui suggested, his eyebrows waggling. "Or not talk at all."

"Because that doesn't scream stalker, Shunsui," Nanao snorted out.

"It's also not the hospital—sensei might burn me to a crisp before I made it to her room. I cannot imagine trying to explain such injuries to Unohana-san."

They all envisioned trying to sneak into the Yamamoto estate and cringed at the mental images.

"Ukitake-taichou, you must simply catch her unaware and make her talk to you. Preferably somewhere private and," the petite woman shot a look at her lover, "not disturbing. No sneaking into her bed. As a matter of fact, don't take any advice he gives you. It will only get you more into trouble."

"But Nanao-chan—"

"He's only angered her once—you've spent a month's worth of nights on your couch."

"Let's not exaggerate, lovely—"

"I'm sure I'm not. I think I'm underestimating the number of times I've kicked you out of bed, actually. And you deserved it every time."

"I've always made it up to you, my lovely Nanao-chan."

"Only because I'm extremely forgiving," she said, her violet eyes shining with frustration and exasperation, but also with love.

The tall, dark man looked at her pitifully while his friend beamed at the couple in front of him. They were what he wanted—someone to come home to, to have inane arguments with, to just be with when things got tough. And now that he was finally well enough to have such a long-term relationship, thank the Kami for Unohana-san's resourceful healing and his less frequent attacks, he had screwed it all up.

Well, it wasn't the first time he'd made a mistake. He'd fix it.

The Next Morning

"Feel strange?" she asked, leaning against the wall near the door.

Her young student—but she couldn't really call her that now—was standing in the middle of the guest room, dressed in black. It was the first time either of them had been seen in the traditional shinigami shihakusho since their defection.

And the girl didn't look nearly as confident in the black ensemble.

"I don't think I can explain it, sensei."

"I can imagine—I'll be in the same position soon." She stepped to the side, allowing the younger woman to pass before following her down the hallway to one of the many doors that let them into the garden. "You'll do fine—stop worrying."

"Ha! And if she throws me out right after I screw something up? I don't do well under this kind of pressure."

Minako grabbed the girl's arm, turning her around quickly, before grabbing her shoulders.

"You know better. You go in there with your chin high and let them see what you've learned. You survived three years of training with me—that's the equivalent of training under the sou-taichou for a semester in the academy. Remember that." She let the girl go but mussed her hair as she continued to the gate. "C'mon. I'll walk you out. I was going to go see about getting an escort to the human realm sometime this week anyway."

"What for?" Akane asked as she jogged up, smiling and looking much more confident for her afternoon at the Second Division.

"I have a few things to take care of, close the house, bank accounts, that sort of thing. Don't you want your clothes and computer? I know I want my things."

"Where will you put them, though? You won't be assigned until after testing."

"Oji-san's, probably. I'll move them later. I'm not bringing everything, though, idiot. I couldn't possibly."

"Anyone given you any hints as to where they'll stick you?"

"Taichou was making noise about the Ninth," she said, but then she shrugged. "Not worrying about it. It does me no good to guess right now—I'll be put where I'm put, as far as I'm concerned. Truthfully, I'd probably take a position in the Fourth as long as it meant staying out of jail."

"As long as it isn't the Thirteenth—"

"I'll turn traitor first. Again," she said darkly.

"I doubt they'll put you there, sensei. I was just making a little observation."

"Well, don't." She stopped at the gates, turning to look at the girl. "Brick wall was eyeing you the other day at the trial—has he made any problems for you?"

"Nah."

"Tell me if he does. I've been led to believe he can kick my ass, but I'll damage him enough to get him to leave you alone if he does anything. I'll try, anyway."

"Sensei," the girl said, sounding much like an exasperated teenager. Minako grinned.

"What?" she asked innocently.

The girl shook her head.

She reminded Minako much of herself when she was a teen. Sometimes it was like looking in a mirror, seeing straight into the past.

"Well, get going. I'll organize an escort and we'll head to the house tonight to get whatever we need, okay?"

"Gotcha!" And with that the redhead was gone, using shunpo to cross the buildings laid out between the Yamamoto estate and the Second Division.

Minako smiled wistfully in the same direction—it was officially the end of an era. The girl would soon move into the barracks and have her own life. And there was no telling where she would be put. They would meet—trying to get Akane off of her was usually like trying to remove a famine-starved leech—but she wouldn't be a daily part of her life anymore.

Well, shishi, shall we see what trouble we can get into at the First?

The black dog smirked in her mind.

I'm always up for trouble.

She quickly jumped to the building closest to the street, and then she was flying across Seireitei herself, heading for the very large white tower-like building at the middle of the complex. It was good to have her reiatsu back; walking everywhere was tiring.

Hmm. Maybe we can draw oji-san out of his office.

I doubt it.

We could still try. It's been ages since we had a spar with someone at that level.

Oh? I seem to remember a small war about three years ago—

Different, mutt.

It was going to be hard to get used to being back in the spirit realm after decades in the human world, where no one really took notice of just another stranger. But it would come to her as the time passed; maybe this was what she needed now. She had once thrived on the attention, after all.

She landed not outside the First Division's gates but directly in the courtyard, startling some of the clerks running from building to building. She pivoted, turning to the long staircase that would lead up to her uncle's office.

Making a splash at the First Division was just the way to get back into the swing of things.
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The Noble Sort