2/2

Two can play at the intimidation game. "I'm not the heir, actually," I corrected her, folding my own arms. This close I could distinguish her reiatsu, hard, patterned, and faintly vulnerable like armor, from the masses around me. I filed that away as something to work on. She was easily on my level, at least. Probably would put up a good fight for the Twelfth's lieutenancy. "That's Shinji. But," I said, smiling my most saccharine smile as I tugged aside my traveling cloak to show off Arashi, "I am a legal adult. You seem like a smart kid. I'm sure you know what that means." I raised my reiatsu slightly, feeling it buzz in my mental grasp more than flow. If Hiyori had a brain in her head she'd know I wasn't happy with her, whatever the rest of me said.

A scowl replaced her smile. True to the Hiyori I remembered—maybe this was the real thing—she was stubborn enough to refuse to admit defeat. "Am I supposed ta be impressed that you're some kinda prodigy?" she demanded. I ignored the dumbstruck expression on my mother's face. That could wait for a later discussion. "Gettin' a fancy weapon doesn't make ya a good person! What's the point of bein' a Shinigami if ya ain't got the balls ta stand up for the right thing!"

And now the whole conversation made more sense. How can you be anyone worth talking to if you're too shy to speak your mind? "Means I know who I am," I replied, irritation ebbing. "How you feel about that is up to you." Brat, I added silently. She was, for all that I thought I understood what she was getting at. There were better ways to go about deciding if you liked someone. Less offensive, at any rate.

Hiyori's scowl deepened. "Whatever. Wishy-washy bimbo," she added in a voice that was technically a mumble but clearly was meant for me to hear.

"Rude child," I replied, curling my fingers around Arashi's hilt. I didn't intend to draw her, but the rush of waves and electricity that filled me when my fingers brushed indigo cloth soothed away some of the edginess Hiyori was creating in me. I turned to Makoto. "So, you said Sarugaki-kun is going to be joining us at Shin'ou? Why so late?"

I ignored Hiyori's fuming as Makoto recovered, smiling with relief at having something to talk about. "Well, if I recall what Hisana-han told me-"

"I didn't want ta have ta spend the rest of my life bobbin' my head yes to whatever a Hirako said," Hiyori snapped. "I got my own wants, y'know."

Way to interrupt your hostess, I grumbled. Arashi, can't we shock her a little?

Rain pattered in my soul, almost loud enough to drown out the eager zing of lightning. That would be a waste of my abilities, Arashi replied. And I'm sure the scarlet man would caution against it.

Does that mean you want to but don't think we can get away with it? I asked, struggling to hold back my snickers.

A pause. It might.

"Some people want to serve," I replied to Hiyori, lacing my fingers together so I didn't 'accidentally' break her nose. "I do. But if that's not for you, fine." I shrugged. I could only imagine how a spitfire like Hiyori would handle being part of a clan bound to serve another, possibly so distantly related she didn't see why they should work for us anymore. Still, it grated to hear her put down people who did want to help others, assuming she defined 'serve' as 'help' the way most people did. I would've liked to include myself in that group, but as Arashi loved to remind me, I was too pragmatic to risk helping people when my definition of 'help' was bound not to match Soul Society's. The Gotei had a mission I could follow until Aizen made his first move, which was close enough.

"Hisana-han and Shinobu-han struggled with whether ta send Hiyori-chan ta Shin'ou or simply have her privately taught," Makoto broke in, desperate to not be completely locked out of the conversation. "Her aptitude was high enough that they wanted her to get the best instruction in the end, though. Ain't that nice?"

Instead of replying, Hiyori shot a look at her that was part-exasperation, part-irritation, and scornful enough to wilt flowers.

It's a good thing you're baby-faced, I thought. You wouldn't get away with this if you looked your age. Aloud, I said, "Shinji brought four of our friends back. I think he'd probably like some help finding them rooms. Mind if I go?"

"Not at all," Makoto said. "Hiyori-chan, d'ya want ta go with her?" And get out of my hair? was left unsaid.

Hiyori shook her head. "I'm headin' back ta my room," she said. "Ya talk too much." With that, she turned and stomped off.

I watched her go. "Is she always that angry?" I asked.

Makoto shrugged helplessly. "It's like an oni switched Hisana and Shinobu's child, I swear. Such a sweet couple and they produced that girl!"

I frowned sharply. It pissed me off to hear Makoto call Hiyori an oni behind her back. I got that our clan dealt in information and naturally had to lie a lot, but did everyone have to bring business into their personal lives? "She's young," I said, glancing over at the gnarled plum. "Give her time."

A few other relatives trapped me in conversation before I could make my escape, but when I finally did extricate myself, it was with more than a little worry that I went looking for Shinji and the rest. Call me paranoid, but nothing good could come of my not being around to supervise that bunch.

Eventually a maid was able to point me in the direction of the rooms Shinji had staked out for our friends, which was lucky for me. Have you ever tried to track down a bunch of not-yet-grown kids among a crowd of fully-grown-adults? Yeah, it's not easy, especially when all the adults tend to be tall.

Still, I found the collection of simple teahouse-style cottages Shinju, Aizen, Minoru, and Nanase had been installed in after a while. Pretty little things, decorated enough that a noble clan would be proud of them but plain enough that they reminded their inhabitants that they were guests. I didn't actually get to enter them, though, since Shinju, Aizen, and Minoru, led by Shinji, were leaving right as I entered the small plaza the cottages were clustered around.

"Finally come crawlin' back ta us, eh?" Shinji called when he spotted me. "Traitor!"

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Quiet, you. Mom wanted me to say hello to one of our cousins. She's going to be coming to Shin'ou in spring."

If Shinju and Shinji's mutual crushes ever did amount to anything, I reflected, they would have an interesting time of it, exemplified by their particular reactions to that news. Shinji grinned evilly, while Shinju clasped her hands and asked, "What's her name? Is she nice? How is she going to make up her work?"

"Sarugaki Hiyori, not particularly, and I don't know," I answered, ticking off my replies on my fingers so I didn't answer anything twice. I gave Shinji a sidelong glance. "What're you plotting?"

Shinji shrugged. "I dunno! Gotta wait ta meet her so I can find out what'll tick her off the most!" He punctuated that statement with a cackle.

Minoru shook his head. "Ya got a weird family, Nariko-san," he observed. "Yer ma anythin' like Shinji and Lord Hirako?"

I hesitated, playing with a strand of hair that had fallen out of its ponytail. "A little. Sometimes I think she took better to this clan than someone born in it."

"I resent that!" Shinji said, sticking his nose up in the air. "I don't look anythin' like Mom."

I made a show of looking him up and down. "True. You're a lot prettier." I was saved from his retaliatory kick to the shin by Shinju sticking her foot out. If she applied those reflexes to her Hakuda, she might actually do well at it, I reflected.

"What's she like?" Aizen interrupted our comedy routine, breath puffing in the air. "She isn't a Hirako, right?"

I nodded. "She's part of a... branch clan, I guess? We're fifth cousins, if I remember her parents right. But the Sarugaki clan usually provides bodyguards for us. For the people who go into the Onmitsukidou, that is. I might've gotten one eventually." And Hiyori's distaste for me made sense all of a sudden. She was around the right age—deemed old enough to go to Shin'ou—to be assigned to me. With my change of plans, she would've lost the purpose she'd been trained for her whole life. Oops.

Shinju raised an eyebrow. "You were going to be an onmitsu?"

I nodded, sticking my hands into my sleeves and yanking them out as my comparatively warm arms decided they didn't like that. "It's traditional for the firstborn Hirako child to join the Patrol Corps. But an intelligence operative who doesn't want to ferret out secrets is useless, so they let me go to Shin'ou in the end." That was the harsh fact I'd had to face when I'd made it to Shin'ou. The clan elders probably hadn't let me go because they supported my dreams. They'd just recognized with an onmitsu's efficient logic that I was of more use to them in another easily observed organization I wanted to be in than I would be if they forced me into the Onmitsukidou.

Shinji whistled. "So that's how ya managed it. I thought Mom was gonna tear her hair out."

I shrugged. "Love her, but I don't really care if she doesn't approve. There's more to life than pleasing parents." Even if that sent an unpleasant twinge through my heart, it was true for my purposes. Speaking of parents, who was missing that didn't have any? "Hey, where's Nanase-kun?"

Shinji jerked his head back at the cottages. "He stayed back. Said he had somethin' ta take care of and I'm not gonna mess with a dude's private time."

I glared at him. "If you just made a dirty joke, knock it off." I sighed, scuffing my geta in frosted dirt. Maybe Nanase wasn't as extroverted as he seemed. "I'll go back and get him. I think they're reciting renga in the eastern opposing room if you want to head over there."

"Hell no!" Shinji scoffed, flapping a hand at me like it was a stupid idea. Hmph. I liked renga. "There're usually some shougi games going on in the western room. C'mon, I'll teach y'all how ta play. It's way more fun than poetry."

If he'd been hoping to get a rise out of me, I refused to reward him. I forced myself to blink mildly at him. "Sure. You guys have fun. I'll catch up once I've got Nanase-kun."

They left, calling over their shoulders for me to hurry up, and I made my way over to the cottages. I had to peer in at a couple before I found the one Shinji'd indicated—nods weren't too accurate as gestures went. Nanase had left the shouji door open a crack, so I slipped inside.

Huh. I'd never been in one of these cottages before, but the room for removing shoes and haori and such before entering the house proper was a nice touch. I slid off my geta and donned house slippers. I probably wouldn't be long, but some people really couldn't stand when you didn't switch to indoor shoes. I slid aside the painted screen and stepped in.

Nanase wasn't in the main room, which wasn't surprising. Though it included a kotatsu, the teahouse aesthetic dictated that it be sparsely furnished, so apart from said kotatsu, a low table with some cushions around it, and a statue of what I expected was the progenitor of our dogs' line in the alcove, not much decorated the place. Not that it was shabby—the statue was very well-carved, some red wood I'd never seen before, and if I knew my fabrics as well as I thought I did the cushions were upholstered with silk—but it was a little spartan for someone to hang out in.

I padded across the room and down the corridor that led to the main bedroom. I paused outside the screen door and listened, just in case Shinji had been correct. Nothing. I sighed in relief. That would've been... awkward. I opened it, stepping in with my best sheepish-but-well-intentioned smile and-

Nanase, face bloodless. Frozen, clutching bandages in his hands. Stopped in the process of binding what were unmistakably breasts. Ah, fuck.

Fire and ice flooded me as I stared at him. Her. Him? Nanase stared back as the bandages slipped from her hands.

"Get out!" she shrieked, voice pitching high and shrill. "Out, asshole!" Small hands shoved at me, forcing me over the threshold. I stumbled, landing right on my ass. When I climbed to my feet, the screen was firmly shut and the house's quiet was disturbed by short, sharp breaths.

For my part, I did nothing to disturb that silence. Mostly because the contents of my brain could best be rendered as a large question mark.

Nanase's a girl. Or- Nanase has boobs, my brain translated the panic into after a while. Boy's name. Looks like a boy. But I've heard it as a girl's name. Haven't I? Either way, definitely a girl-body. Did Seinosuke know? He had to. Or he knew something was up. 'There are bastards wherever you go.' Arashi, did you know?

Water rippled, an evasion if I'd ever sensed one. I guessed, she said after a moment. The way he sits. The hunch of his back after a long time spent around you. Small things. Uncertain things. I thought it better to wait to see if I was right, and to let you draw your own conclusions. This... wasn't anticipated.

Not anticipated? I snapped. Not anticipated? You should've told me. Now I've just walked in on her. Him. Them. I don't know.

Then ask, Arashi ordered. Or offer some reassurance. Who knows what's going through the child's head?

I'm a child too, I thought faintly, scrabbling for some humor. Why are you calling them one?

Daoshi, she said, waves curling behind her words. Go.

I shuffled forwards, brushed my knuckles on the screen in some weak attempt at a knock. "Nanase-" I began, stopping as vicarious embarrassment flooded me. I swallowed it down and kept going. "Nanase...kun? Could you let me in? I-I'm sorry. I'm really, really, so sorry. Only I told Shinji I'd come find you and-"

"Why're ya still here?" Nanase's voice was higher than mine, flat and sharp as a knife. "Why didn'tcha leave and go tail 'em? You're supposed t'kick me out. Or scream an' throw sheet."

I blinked, scrambling for words as I translated the Rukongai drawl. Why hadn't I left? Even if I'd wanted to tell someone, a smart person would've given Nanase some privacy. It just hadn't occurred to me. Brilliant. "Uh, I don't have anything to throw," I said in my infinite wisdom as I stopped trying to keep my reiatsu from betraying my confusion. My own mouth gave me away anyway. "And, um, I can't kick anyone out. I think?" A laugh forced its way out of my throat. I pinched the back of my hand, both to remind myself that yes, the situation was serious, and to keep myself from passing out. My head felt awfully empty all of a sudden.

"Just get on with it. Run me through or beat me up or whate'er." Nanase's breath hitched in her throat. "Not like I ain't taken it before."

'No one my age tells me what to do' and 'friends take care of friends' collided and came out of my mouth as "No." I blinked, glad that Nanase couldn't see my puzzled expression. Nothing like loyalty and deference to authority to force a decision. But that felt right. I had a decision made and now I had to stand by it. I didn't lie to Seinosuke. I refused to let him win. "You haven't hurt me. You aren't hurting anyone I care about. You aren't doing anything wrong." I laid out my reasons, crystallizing in my mind even as I said them, nice and neat for Nanase to hear. "So why should I hurt you?"

The gasping breaths stopped. Nanase's reiatsu was shaky and wary, divided between hope and hostility. "Because- because ya seen me. Ya know. I lied t'ya."

Gah. I couldn't hold a conversation as tricky as this one from behind a screen. "Look, I'm not saying anything else until you let me in," I said, forcing the shakiness from my voice with good old-fashioned bluntness.

"I ain't stupid! I thought ya'd find out and ya did and I'm so rock-stupid," Nanase hissed. I got the sense that he wasn't just talking to me, but to himself as well. "Second I open this thing it's gonna turn out that ya lied and you'll beat me up like everybody else."

The prickling fire of frustration burned away the nervousness. "I ain't everybody else!" I hissed back, shedding Tokyo-ben for a dialect that I hoped would calm Nanase down. "I ain't! Look, Nanase, I heard it said that it's people's job ta be better than their society. Well I'm tryin', yeah? I ain't never gonna lie ta ya. I don't hate ya or whatever ya think about me. Sure, I saw, I know, but I don't know what the hell ta make of it. I don't decide what ta do unless I know enough 'bout what's goin' on. So ya better tell me. I'm mad as hell at ya fer bein' so stubborn, but I ain't makin' a judgment on anythin' unless ya tell me yer side. Got it? If I had my say in things nobody'd be beatin' up anybody."

A long pause. I'd just about given up hope of my speech working when the screen slid open. A face slightly less pale than when I'd walked in greeted me.

"C'mon," Nanase said. "Or did ya lie about wantin' in?"

I stepped in, folding myself quickly into seiza. Much harder to hurt anyone from that position. I hoped Nanase realized that. They stayed standing, whatever conclusion they reached. The bandages lay discarded at their feet, though Nanase had put on a shirt in the meantime.

"Gimme yer sword," Nanase ordered, voice brittle. "Or I'm gonna see if I deserve my Hadou grades."

My jaw tightened on instinct. Not my Zanpakutou. Not Arashi. But my first impression of Nanase was proving to be more and more correct. He was wound tighter than an onmitsu on guard duty. No question that he'd pop me in the face with a Shakkahou if I didn't. I forced my fingers to loosen my obi and slide Arashi loose. I didn't draw her. No one's fingers but mine got to touch her naked. I handed her over, palms less flat than I would've liked. At least Nanase received her with something like courtesy, not curling his fingers around her and setting her gently on the futon.

"I'm a guy," they said. "I am. Not everybody gets that. Or wants ta. An' wakin' up in Takahashi, everybody already knew what I looked like." They- he glanced down at his chest. "No hidin'. So I left. Whatever luck I had went to my reiryoku, so I came here. Nobody's made me at Shin'ou yet, not till you, but they got just enough brains ta get close, so they roughed me up. Until Yamada-san. He found me one time, whaled on the bastards who did it until he could slap a Kidou ta muddle things, an' cleaned me up an' took me in. Not perfect, but he cared." The sidelong glance Nanase sent me was unnecessary. I heard the unspoken question: Do you?

"He told me to take care of you, you know," I said. "Said that you'd had a rough time in Takahashi. Ah, Yamada-senpai did. I said I would." I met his eyes. "I told you, I don't lie. And at the time... I'm sorry, this is terrible of me, but I didn't care. Not really. It was just on principle. Nobody hurts people I said I'd protect. I... I think I care now. I mean, I care by now. Not all of a sudden." I tilted my chin up, working to act like I knew what I was doing. "You love life, Nanase-kun. This place needs more people like that. And it needs less people like the jerks who hurt you. I'm surprised, to be honest, but it's my nature to try to keep everything on my radar. It bothered me not knowing if you were hiding something that could come back to bite you more than it bothers me to know what you were hiding. Does that make sense?"

Nanase looked at me, long and steady. His reiatsu had subsided, less of a dog with its hackles raised than a wolf appraising whether I was a threat to his pack of one. Maybe that first impression had been off. "Y'talk too much." His voice had deepened again. "What're ya tryin' ta say?"

Note to self: brevity is not your strong suit. Work on that. I shrugged. "I'm not gonna hurt you. You're my friend. I'll stand by you on principle and because I want to. You're a good guy, Nanase-kun, even if you keep secrets. Not that it's always a bad thing"—I was a prime example of that—"but I'm just a little... paranoid, I guess, about misunderstandings getting people killed." I scrunched my kimono in my hands. "Um, I really hate to ask this, but about that, what's your birth name? And is there anyone else who might want to hurt you?"

Nanase's scowl returned. "Hibiki is my name."

It took an act of will for me not to scowl back. Was it so hard to understand that I was asking in case his past came back to bite him? "Yeah, I know. Let me rephrase." I laced my fingers together. "What name would people from Takahashi know you by? If I hear about death threats against 'Nanase Sakurako,' I might not know to tell you."

Nanase's expression softened slightly. "The name they called me was almost as bad. 'Tomoko.'" He shuddered violently. "But none of them are gonna come here. I was the only one with spirit power enough to get in."

I discarded the 'don't knock -ko names' joke before it could slip past my filter. Not the time. "Okay." I leaned in, trying to meet his eyes. "Thanks. You're Hibiki to me, but it makes me feel a little better to know that. Second thing: what do you want me to say to Shinji and the others? I won't say anything unless you say I can. But in my experience secrets don't stay secret for long. So... I'm not saying you have to tell anyone, or saying that I will, but... it's just a thought."

Nanase grimaced. "No. You can't tell them. You can't. You weren't supposed to know. If I tell them, it's my choice. Gotta hope for the best, but I'm in the business of expecting the worst."

I nodded, tension draining from my body as that last loose thread was tied up. No more problems, or at least none that were my problem. Nanase was safe as he could be. I didn't have to worry about him being some Hollow in disguise or one of Aizen's accomplices. "Okay, okay. That's none of my business." I gave him an apologetic smile. "But seriously, I'm sorry about all this. I shouldn't have been so nosy."

Nanase seemed to relax a bit at that. "Yeah, you think? But what's done is done. It can't be helped." He shrugged, familiar smile touching his lips. I was going to have to keep a more careful eye on his emotional state in light of that smile—a possible defense mechanism, I realized now.

We sat like that for a few minutes before I broke the silence. "Do you want to meet up with Shinji and the others? They were going to go play shougi. I'm not too good at it, but he'd probably love to teach you. We could watch, anyway."

Nanase nodded, cheer returning rapidly. "Sure! Gimme a second to, uh, get ready, and I'll be right out."

Nanase, it turned out, was a natural at shougi. Once he had the rules down, he and Shinju, equally fond of the game, spent a good few hours in matches together. Shinji and Minoru cheered them on with a gusto no doubt enhanced by the free flow of sake. Aizen I didn't catch sight of very much that first day, but we did have an extensive library, so I would've bet on him being there.

I passed the afternoon with Shinji and Minoru for a little bit, but it wasn't long before my well of tolerance for people, already low from our journey, dried up. From there I made my way back to my rooms. A heavy winter robe and a kotatsu shielded me from the cold while I added to my cache of possibly-future-relevant information.

Zanpakutou—wills are not always aligned with their wielders', I wrote, Arashi's waters whispering faintly in my mind. Seemed she hated the cold as much as I did.

Incorrect, she told me, rousing herself just enough to be audible. Your will when I was born was to remedy the world. I must follow that broad desire, as my kin must do the same for their Shinigami. Simply because most do not change their will does not mean that a spirit will always align with a Shinigami. Should you change your will, only the creator, or some other fundamental change in your soul, could alter mine.

I stopped, brush poised to cross that out. Is that how we got not-Oshiro? He wanted that creature originally and after he changed the spirit didn't change with him?

The shift of staticky clouds, akin to a shrug. Possible. Only the blood-metal-man could answer that. Continue. With that, she subsided. Helpful.

I crossed my first addition out, replacing it with what Arashi had told me. Moving on, I turned my attention to Nanase.

Nanase's birth name's Tomoko. Possibly damaged emotionally, but generally positive affect makes it difficult to tell. Keep an eye on subtler cues. Threats from past are unlikely. I paused, giving that a once-over. Seemed fine.

Shinji and Shinju—potential couple? My brush hesitated as I considered the courses of action. Attempt to discourage affections, but back off if they don't fizzle. Odds are they'll break up anyway. Not worth jeopardizing relationship with both over.

Hiyori is here. No fang—look into Sarugaki clan for possible clues why. Befriend her to keep on her good side after the exile.

Shinju seems to value peace, but a preference for order is a trait of Kuchiki clans. Find out which one wins when push comes to shove.

Aizen is abnormally skilled. Learn why so you can replicate it, but don't push him into the spotlight. Kid's withdrawn as heck—mother's death by Hollow is a likely influence. Probe the circumstances, in case that was a trigger.

Now for personal goals. Learn Kidou—master basics first, but develop original spells for unpredictability. Consider devising a martial arts style for later use—don't get fancy. Useful tricks from other styles, adapted, should work fine. Zanjutsu needs the most work, but an evasion-based style may work best. Best to not get hit.

I frowned as I set my brush down, running the fingers of my other hand over my eyes. What had I been thinking of- ah, yes. I put my brush to paper again.

Figure out how to activate the seals without using your fingers. Just get better at moving reiryoku, period, while you're at it. Research seems to support the idea that that's the foundation for high-level Hakuda, Kidou, and Houhou, so it's a good skill to have down. Either way, there's no point in having that ability without figuring out how to use it without people knowing. Shinigami are human weapons, so weaponize it. I underlined the last two words twice.

I sighed, rolling the scroll up and disentangling myself from the kotatsu. I rose, padding over to the painted screen that had dominated a wall of my room for as long as I could remember. The scene depicted on it was drawn beautifully, colors vivid despite the fact that the screen had been in the family for at least two centuries. Soul Society built things to last. The lurid hues and fluid yet strong lines had distracted me from its subject—a falcon flying above a snake for a panel before flying down and fighting with it in the next panel, followed by the falcon tearing into and beginning to carry the snake away before in the very last panel the snake sank its fangs into the falcon's chest. No one I'd asked about the screen had had the same answer for me as to the meaning behind the scene depicted, but I'd long since given up wondering. Like most things in the Hirako household, it was ostentatious at first glance and vaguely unsettling if one looked for any longer, which was probably the artist's intent.

"Hey, Narin!" I whirled, finding Shinji standing in the doorway. "Ain't ya gonna join the party? Shinju-chan's demandin' that I hunt ya down so she can give ya her present. And ya better have one fer me." He sauntered over, throwing an arm around my shoulders and frog-marching me out of there. "C'mon, don't be a loner! It's nearly New Years!"

I wriggled out of his grasp. "Hey, idiot, I need to get my presents for people before I can give them! Gimme a second!"

I dashed over to where I'd stashed the gifts, wrapped in cheap rice-paper beneath my calligraphy table. Two attempts to gather them into my arms later, Shinji was leading me to the enclosed pavilion where our friends had established themselves.

"Nariko-san!" Nanase sang out, waving so hard his arm looked to be about to fall off. "Open mine first!"

"Wh-what? Why am I the one opening my presents first?" I spluttered, shooting a glance at Shinju to confirm. She nodded, smiling.

"We were going to let Nanase-senpai do it first," she answered, "but he wanted to give before he received, and Aizen-san said he wanted to respect our hosts. You're older than Shinji-kun, so we decided you would instead."

I grinned, flopping down on a cushion beside her. "Hey, I'm not complaining. Just curious. Alright, let's get this going."

Shinju beat Nanase to it, thrusting a small silk bag at me the second I finished my sentence. I took it, tugging the drawstring open and withdrawing its contents.

"Whoa..." I murmured, holding up the beaded necklace the bag had contained. Silver threads winked at me from between dozens of shimmering white beads. "Fujikage-chan, what is this?"

Shinju beamed at me. "They're thought beads! I don't know how religious you are, but I figured they'd be good for your concentration. The merchant who sold me them said that the beads are made of mother-of-pearl for purification."

Aizen leaned in to get a better look. "They look like bad luck to me. White and all."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Hey, don't jinx them! Besides, if everything white's unlucky, we might as well not do anything during winter. The snow's bound to curse us all. Thanks, Fujikage-chan," I added, nudging her shoulder with mine.

Shinju shot a mock-annoyed glance at Aizen too. "Aizen-san! Now she'll fail her finals, or something awful like that!"

Aizen's peculiar soft smile dimmed. "There are things far worse than that, Fujikage-san. Who's next?"

Nanase gave me a slip with a poem written on it in his best attempt at calligraphy, glowing as though he was getting the gift. "See, read it!"

I ran my eyes over the characters. "Honor... stands like a frail orchid... in the driving storm." I glanced up at him. "Beautiful, Nanase-kun. Thanks so much! Where'd you find it?"

He rubbed the nape of his neck. "Well, I didn't know what to get you on short notice, so I went looking in the school library for poetry, and with your Zanpakutou it looked good and all... so yeah! That's how I got it!"

I nodded. "Whose turn is it now?"

Shinji gave me a brick of jasmine tea. I couldn't fathom how he'd gotten it, but I thanked him anyway—he'd already known what I'd like, naturally. Minoru's gift was a block of wood with the kanji and hiragana of my name carved into it. Turned out Fugai district had taught him some some skills that weren't strictly necessary for survival, like whittling, so a wood block it was. The wood wasn't great, but his workmanship made up for it. I made sure to wrap him in a tight hug.

Aizen's gift, in contrast, was notable for its utility. He'd written an analysis of the main branches of Hakuda and rolled it into a remarkably small scroll for the volume of information it contained. My fingers itched to open it right there, but in the name of being sociable I set it aside and instead gave him a broad smile that felt far more genuine than it had a right to. His glance away and blush made the warm-and-fuzzies in my chest get that much warmer and fuzzier.

The rest of the gifts went much like that. Shinju's were more fanciful, while Nanase's and Minoru's were understandably simpler. Aizen gave useful, handmade presents like the scroll, though the rest were less detailed than mine. Shinji's gifts ran the gamut from a practical brick of tea for me to trailing wisteria kanzashi made out of violet glass that looked as though a slight breeze would break it for Shinju. Mine relied on my most marketable skill: calligraphy. Each person received a poem written on the most delicate paper I could find with my favorite brush. I'd had to do them when we arrived at home, since the paper wouldn't survive a journey, but for being so last-minute I was proud of them. Minoru, of course, was the exception. At a market we'd stopped by on our trek, I'd slipped into a small stall and picked up the promised brush case, with some paper and a decent-quality brush to fill it.

"I wasn't sure how the inkstone would weather a journey," I told him apologetically, "or I would've gotten one of those too. Guess it's kind of a late birthday present, but... oh, just take it."

He took it as though I'd handed him a newborn baby, tying the case to his obi immediately as though someone would barge in and step on the thing the instant he set it down. I could've been wrong, but I thought his mouth quivered like he was about to cry. Oops. With any luck that meant something good.

When we saw Shinju off the next morning, my eyes weren't just watering from the cold. Best friends had never been a concept that I'd fully understood, let alone the idea of nakama, but in that moment, I thought I'd figured it out. These were my people, the ones that I could bring into my home as easily as I'd talk with them at school. Maybe... this was a complete family, the kind where blood relation meant nothing. Or maybe I'd just inhaled too many sake fumes. But I really, really wanted to believe the former.

Notes:

It's come to my attention (I love that phrase!) that Nariko is at risk of being Speshul. So this chapter was something of an attempt to start remedying that.

Renga are Japanese linked verses-- collaborative efforts traditional around New Year's.

Just... just go look up the shinden-zukuri architecture if you want to know what Nariko's talking about.

Nanase was originally planned to be trans. So no, to avert the possibility of any questions, I'm not trying to fill a diversity quota.

Go look up juzu and nenju!