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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.

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A/N: Enjoy! R & R!

"The Noble Sort"

One Week Later

"We've decided where you'll be serving, Minako."

She looked up at her uncle as he entered the dining room, her magazine article completely forgotten. She had done her testing five days earlier, but she hadn't realized they would have their decision made so soon. She was sure she had at least another week to laze about the house and enjoy a vacation complete with no one trying to kill her.

Other than the isolation, it had been kind of nice.

She watched as he took his normal spot at the head of the table—the only other place setting at the moment. Akane had moved out at the beginning of the week. Her room in the barracks was small and plain, but between the two of them there had been enough furniture and paintings to liven the room up and make it feel more like home.

The girl had shined when presented with her first original painting, the deep reds and browns matching her furniture perfectly.

But the past three days had been just her and oji-san. It was comfortable, although somewhat awkward as they got used to living together without the buffer of the young girl.

"Do I even want to know, Gen-oji-san?" she asked as Hikaru, always attentive to the sou-taichou, entered right after him bearing their dinner on a huge platter.

They both nodded their heads at the maid, Minako even going so far as to give her a quick smile of thanks. She didn't even look at the plate of food that had been set in front of her, however; all her attention was on her uncle.

"Well?"

He chewed slowly, apparently enjoying his meal more than he had ever enjoyed okonomiyaki. He had never had a liking for it before. Hikaru only served it because it was one of Minako's favorites.

"They are putting more trust in you than I think is prudent."

There was a disturbing gleam in his opened eyes.

"Thanks, oji-san," she said dryly, finally taking a bite of her own food.

He winked at her before fidgeting and settling in his chair like an immovable stone.

"I should not have to say this, but I will: if you so much as make one wrong move in the next century, I'll kill you myself. Behave yourself for a time."

"As long as it isn't the Thirteenth, I don't care. I'll be a janitor if I have to."

He chuckled dryly and his eyes opened again. His brown eyes were dancing with a playfulness he rarely showed to the outside world, and she briefly wondered what had caught his interest.

"I saw the note taped to my entrance, niece."

She blushed, sinking down into her seat.

"You are being unduly harsh with the boy."

"It's not my fault!" she cried out. "He won't stop! And Akane isn't here anymore to fend him off with her glares."

"If my student truly wishes to make amends a mere slip of paper with, I will admit some very inventive threats, will not stop him." He flicked his chopsticks at her, and she wiped her face quickly with a look of horror. Those had been in his mouth—and she swore she felt something fly off, ew.

"I—let's just not go there—please, please, leave it alone," she begged, then she cleared her throat and glance quickly around the room. New topic needed, pronto. "You were supposed to be telling me where I was going to be serving out my life of indentured slavery, not teasing me about an overzealous ex."

"So I was," he murmured, but she could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Well?"

"There are two choices." She shot him a look. "Calm yourself—they are placing a great deal of trust in you with this. Truthfully," he said, his shoulders moving the tiniest bit in an imitation of a shrug, "they do not wish to waste your potential. A motive I can understand, although I will be keeping my eyes on you."

As if I ever made a move without you knowing other than leaving.

"Hisagi Shuuhei will be here around eight. I believe you would like to meet your subordinate fuku-taichou before you take the position, although there will not be any formal presentation for you. Everyone already knows you," he said dryly.

T—taichou? What in the seven hells are they thinking?

"You can't be serious?" she shrieked, her chopsticks flying to the ground as she gestured wildly with her arms.

"He has been fuku-taichou for almost three decades. He is the best person to introduce you to the workings of the division. Since you will report for your first day tomorrow, it would also be best if he at least recognized his new taichou."

"Are you fucking insane?"

"Watch it," he said warningly.

"If he's been fuku-taichou so long, why isn't he taichou and—and—I should be taking his place, not be his boss!" She slammed her hand down on the table. "Unbelievable."

"He has not yet achieved bankai, although I do believe he will become a taichou eventually. For the present, though—"

"Bankai isn't a requirement! If it suddenly became a requirement, I didn't get the fucking memo." She ran a hand through her hair, mussing the fringe at the front and flicking the loose strands back behind her shoulders. "Oji-san, you can't put a defect in control of a division—"

"I just did," he said, and she ignored the twinkle in his eyes. He was obviously proud of himself, no matter what he had said earlier about not trusting her.

"But I don't have any training for this—"

"You managed the Eighth for decades, I believe. We all know Shunsui is not there to work."

"But—I—ridiculous—"

"Spit your words out, girl," he said gruffly, leaning back and twirling his mustache with his remaining hand. "The job is yours. There are five haori proclaiming you the new taichou being hung in your closet as we speak."

"Five?" she asked, her expression showing her disbelief. "Why so many?"

"I know you," he muttered before he pushed his okonomiyaki and rice forward to signal that he was done with his meal. She knew he hated it—he must have had it made for the "good news" he had to give her.

"Un-freakin-believable." She looked at him. "You said there was another choice."

"Imprisonment."

"Oh," she muttered sullenly.

"You should be grateful, child. You have been given the position you longed for. The Ninth is a perfect fit for you—you have always been artistically inclined. I believe you will do much better there than you would have in the Fifth—although I do believe I will have no say in the boy that gets that position."

"I feel no pity for you now," she said sarcastically, finally pushing away her plate as well. This had killed her appetite. "Do I even want to know how many strings someone had to pull—"

"I wouldn't even attempt to count them, niece."

They moved to the living room—she had point blank refused to call it by its more formal title since she had moved back into the house. Most of the next hour was spent with her uncle doing paperwork and her pretending to read a book after flipping through some files, although her mind was definitely on other things.

A taichou.

After all she had done they were willing to give her that. It was amazing, really. She would have been happy with a position higher than toilet scraper, to be honest. But neither she nor Akane seemed to be getting an actual punishment besides not being allowed to go back to the human realm permanently. It was lenient, and it made her revise her opinion of the newly-formed Central.

Perhaps they were progressing.

But a full division—this would be work. If she remembered right the Ninth handled paperwork, guard duty, and print communications. Her uncle was right, it was a good fit; she was artistic and she had a very useless arts degree in the human realm. It had been the only thing interesting to her other than psychology, which she couldn't really see a need for and couldn't stomach—she couldn't handle her own problems, much less help others with theirs.

Her musing was interrupted by Hikaru's arrival. The older woman was ushering in a young man with spiky black hair—tattoos! Oh, this was definitely a Kensei worshipper. He even carried himself like the former taichou of the division.

It wouldn't do to laugh at him in their first meeting; she shoved the giggles down.

"Genryuusai-dono, Minako-dono…Hisagi-san," the older woman said as she led the younger man to the couch across from theirs while shooting Minako a look. The maid had caught the grin threatening to escape, apparently.

Hikaru wouldn't care what she was thinking, only that she wasn't treating their guest appropriately. Minako smothered the grin.

"Hisagi-fuku-taichou," her uncle greeted, not even opening his eyes. He put his paperwork aside.

But the poor man in front of them looked almost startled. She imagined it couldn't be easy for those unused to seeing the sou-taichou outside of his office to see that he could be human, take off his haori, and sit back and relax in the evenings.

"Hisagi-san, don't look so scared," she said. She couldn't resist teasing him. Her uncle shot her a look which she returned before waving her hand at the door. "Why don't you go finish that up in the study? Let me talk to him for a bit, Gen-oji-san."

She heard her uncle huff under his breath but he actually did as she asked, gathering up his stacks of papers and moving towards the study across the hall. Although she was sure she heard him mutter something about her as he shut the door, finally leaving her to really get to know the guy in front of her. It would be too much to try to have this conversation with him hovering.

Change that—kid in front of her. He was still young. Nanao's age maybe, not much older at all. God, when had she gotten old?

"Yamamoto—"

"Nope!" she said as she cut him off, reaching for the teapot and refreshing her own cup before making him one as well. "Minako. I don't do last names. If you absolutely must use a last name, perhaps Fujiwara. My mother's name—two Yamamoto-taichou might get confusing."

"But the squad is honored to receive someone from the Yamamoto family as a taichou," he said, and she could tell he was uncomfortable.

"Well, then just use my first name when we aren't in formal situations."

"But it isn't—"

"If you say proper, I'll hit you," she warned, then she handed him his cup of tea. "Before, it wasn't such a big deal. Now, though, it might become an issue if me and oji-san are in the same room. Anyway," she said, waving her hand, "we can solve this later. I have a question for you."

He shot her an inquisitive look.

"Why aren't you the one getting ready to put on that haori tomorrow?"

"I didn't—I'm not ready to have that position," he said, and while he seemed to be sincere about it, she could tell he was hiding something.

"Is this about not having achieved bankai? Because I'm sure they've told you I can only use mine when there's no other choice. Bankai isn't always the deciding factor."

"No," he said haltingly. "I would like to have it, but—no. I've run the division for years. It's a lot of work and I'm looking forward to someone else taking control," he said in a rush, and she gave him a smile. That she understood. He was too young to be shouldering all of it yet.

"Well, I'll just say this up front then—I was a little worried about stepping on toes." He opened his mouth, most likely about to reassure her, but she held her hand up. "I'm also a little worried about taking on a division. My history isn't—well, I'm not sure how I'll be received."

"The squad is looking forward to finally having a leader. Everyone knows about what's happened, but it doesn't matter. You're a Yamamoto. They're thrilled."

She gave a little laugh as she leaned back against the couch.

"Of course," she said dryly.

She looked at him. He was strong, she could tell. And he was most likely loyal—the file oji-san had let her look through right after dinner said he had killed Tousen only after realizing he couldn't get him to return voluntarily. He was probably a good guy.

Good-looking, too. That never hurt.

"I know," she started, her voice soft, "it's hard to trust someone right off the bat. But we'll have to be able to trust each other—you know the division in a way I won't for some time and I need someone willing to back me. Can you do that?"

His eyebrows rose.

"I'm serious. I'm hard to deal with—temperamental, blunt, sarcastic—but I'm used to being able to trust the person at my back. If you can't offer that—"

"That's fine," he said in a rush, and she heard a big breath whoosh out of him. "That's good, actually."

"Oh?"

He didn't volunteer anything else, just sat there with a cup of tea in his hands on her uncle's very expensive couch looking decidedly out of place. He wasn't the quiet type, though. She got the feeling he just didn't know her yet—she wasn't intimidating, but he couldn't be comfortable right now.

Shishi?

He's good. No lying, although he'll hedge around the truth.

Expected. Do you think we can trust him?

I think you can, in time. He's injured, onna. Betrayal hits this one deep.

She nodded mentally.

"Well then. I'll be taking over tomorrow, as you know. Why don't you tell me about yourself? Perhaps you have some questions for me?"

The Next Day

Minako was now the one that felt out of place.

The squad had greeted her energetically that morning, all lined up and spouting off names she wouldn't be able to remember for weeks yet and giving her a guided tour of the division. They had all presented her with the best version of things, she was sure—no place was that idyllic to work for.

But Shuuhei—she had told him the night before that last names weren't gonna work although he was still having problems with it—had the division running as smoothly as possible. So by the time she was shown into her office midmorning, she was sure there was actually little for her to do at the moment. There was paperwork, as always, but nothing just amazingly pressing.

So other than the odd division member popping by to get a look at their new taichou, everything was smooth. Which was weird.

And the white haori made her feel weird. She liked black.

She wasn't even unpacking on her own; Hikaru had some of her uncle's clerks bring over the boxes she had spent last week labeling and was setting up her rooms. She would have just the right amount of her things in the barracks but still be comfortable when she went to the estate on Sundays. And, according to her uncle, Wednesdays for dinner.

If he had his way, she would end up having dinner with him all the time. She thought he was already getting lonely—she hadn't even been gone a day yet.

Then, she could hear someone in the hallway, and a knock on her door followed soon after.

The wooden door opened slowly without her permission, and she almost felt the need to yell at whoever it was, but then—red hair.

Akane.

Minako smiled as she sat up a little straighter in her chair.

"Dork! They finally let you out of there, huh?"

"Oh, shut it, sensei. I'm free to come and go as I please." The redhead scanned the office, completely immune to the stares of the shinigami in the outer offices. "Imagine, you a taichou. Do these poor guys know what they're getting into?"

"They haven't had a morning training session with me yet, no," Minako admitted, still beaming like an idiot.

The girl flopped down into a chair and pulled a stick of dango out of a white paper bag before tossing the bag across the desk. She munched happily, legs swinging, as Minako tried to pull the spongy outside off to get to the inside of the treat.

"Where's the baka-shishi?"

Tell her not to call me that.

"I figured it would be best to let them get used to me in small doses. No yelling or very large animals in the office until the second week," she said sarcastically, but the big black dog appeared soon after. He looked up at his master with big yellow eyes and she threw the spongy part of her dango to him, rolling her own eyes.

"Might as well just get them immune as quick as possible. Don't shock them for weeks, just for a day."

"Yeah?"

"Worked for me," the girl mumbled around a mouth full of food. Minako had to fight the Hikaru-like urge to tell her it was impolite. She wasn't Akane's mother, after all. She wasn't even her sensei anymore.

She shook herself mentally.

Minako was about to give a sarcastic reply but then Shuuhei appeared in the doorway, once again looking uncomfortable. She couldn't wait for the day he finally got used to her.

"Yes?"

"Yama—" She sent him a dark look and he stopped, changing his words. "Taichou, you requested the training and duty schedules."

She took the stack of papers from him, perusing the lists before looking back up. Both of her visitors were staring at each other, neither seeming to know what to say. The bug-eyed look was something she was getting used to with the guy, but Akane was rarely speechless.

"Akane, Hisagi Shuuhei. Shuuhei, Katsumoto Akane."

"Your fuku-taichou? Good job, sensei," the girl purred, and Minako threw one of the dango she hadn't picked at over the desk at the girl's head. Akane caught it, but it made a nice sticky mess on her hand.

"Shut it," she warned. "You have a boyfriend, I believe."

"He's in the human world," Akane said nonchalantly. But her attention was now off the very uncomfortable Shuuhei, who was backing out of the room slowly, his eyes alternating between the redheaded spitfire and the big black dog.

"Still yours, though. I thought you two were getting serious, even."

"Nah. I don't think he actually does serious—when was the last time he dated someone for more than a year?"

"No clue," she muttered distractedly as she looked back down at the papers on her desk. Her desk. How odd that was. "So, you here just to see what they've done to me, or do you have a reason?"

"No real reason," the girl said, shrugging her shoulders. "Thought I'd check for shackles, but I don't see any. Other than that…"

She's hiding something.

"What?"

The girl sighed, throwing her dango stick onto the white paper sack on the desk that was now home to bits of dango that Minako wouldn't eat. She looked…tired. And a little depressed, which wasn't like Akane at all. Of course, she couldn't shop as much here when boredom hit her, but Minako doubted there was any time to be bored in the Second Division.

"I think I'm lonely."

Minako snorted.

"I'm serious, sensei!" the girl exclaimed. "I haven't lived alone for years now—I'm not used to it anymore. No Chouko, no Kenta, no shishi, no you, no music blaring at odd hours or anyone trying to pull pranks. It's like a tomb in there."

"Give them time to know you, then you'll wish for peace," she said dryly. "I used to look forward to Sundays spent at the house to get away from the noisiness of the barracks. Of course, we could've been louder than the ninja crazies, too…I wonder what constitutes a barracks prank in ninja-dom?"

I always wish for peace but never get it.

You sleep most of the day—that's peace, shishi.

"I think shishi will trade places with you," Minako said brightly, hoping a little teasing would liven the girl up.

"I like it there, I do. I'm just…adjusting still, I guess."

"Well, you know where I am. Feel free to drop by and wreak havoc." Minako sent her a devious little grin. "Same goes for oji-san. He could use some chaos in his life."

The girl grinned, but then she shot Minako a guilty look and began fiddling with her clothing, a warning sign if there ever was one. In Akane speak it meant she had done something she knew Minako wouldn't approve of and dreaded telling her about—and Akane had been a very good girl lately. Whatever she had done could have been big with all that pent up energy.

"What?" she asked, wary.

"Someone came to see me yesterday," the girl said quietly, hunching into the chair.

"Your family isn't bothering you, are they? I'll deal with them if I have to. I once again have the full might of my last name and I'm not afraid to use it."

"No," Akane said, ducking her head down. "It was Ukitake-taichou."

Minako felt heat wash over her body. Now he was actually bugging Akane about this—everything was getting a little out of hand. She was hoping to be able to put off whatever tentative amends they would have to make to be able to work together when needed, but it seemed unlikely.

"Tell him to leave you alone. He shouldn't be involving you in this, like that, anyway," she said, trying to run a hand through her hair. She soon remembered her ponytail and frowned.

"Well," the girl said haltingly, "he just—damnit, sensei, he looked like a kicked puppy! He really does feel bad for what he said, and I know you lo—"

"Don't, Akane," she said warningly. "It isn't anyone's business."

"Sensei, aren't you being just a little hardheaded over this? If he wants to apologize you two can make up and get over this already—"

"I have been called a lot of things, Akane," she said, rising from her chair and leaning over the desk menacingly, reiatsu leaking out viciously, "but no one has ever insulted me like that. You can't love someone you think about like that. That's all there is to it."

"You're being stubborn, Minako!"

"I know I am. But there's more to this than just my hurt feelings. I do have some pride, you know!"

"What does pride have to do with it?" Akane asked as she got to her feet. "Because he hurt you? Minako, we've both been given the chance to do everything over again, but this time we both get exactly what we wanted. Don't let your hurt pride get in the way of that. It's stupid."

"He didn't hurt my pride, Akane," she spit out. "My pride won't allow me to be with a man that obviously doesn't feel the same way I do. I have too much pride to be used like that again."

"How do you know he's using you? God, you're so stubborn!"

"What's with you, then? Not even a week ago you were ready to rip him apart—now you're his advocate? I've gotten enough of that from Nanao, taichou, even oji-san. He has enough advocates, I assure you."

"I'm just trying to give you a swift kick in the pants—you did it enough for me!" the girl screamed, at which point the shishi crawled underneath a low table and the door swung open, Shuuhei looking ready to fight.

"Stay out of it," she hissed.

"You never butted out of anything in your life, Minako. And I'm not some shinigami you can order around right now—don't even try to treat me like that."

"Is there a problem?" Shuuhei asked, looking confused and definitely on edge.

"Shut the door!" both women screamed, and the poor man did, making sure he was on the other side of it.

Minako closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and counted to ten. They were no longer at the house; there was a division of shinigami out there that could probably hear most of what they were saying. And she was supposed to set an example, not argue with someone on her first day.

"Akane, please, just stay out of it. Please," she begged, and she opened her eyes to the girl slumping in on herself.

"Fine. I just hate seeing you unhappy when you don't have to be."

"But it isn't your decision," she said, sitting back down. "Let it go."

The redhead rubbed her face with both hands, but she nodded. Minako knew it wouldn't be left alone for long, but hopefully the girl would be too busy to think about it for a while.

"I've…gotta go, anyway."

"I have work to do." Minako looked down at the paperwork on her desk before looking back up and catching the girl's eyes. "Dinner Saturday? Isane wants to have a girls' night of sorts."

"Sure, sensei. I'll have calmed down by then."

"Right," Minako scoffed.
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The Noble Sort