Title: The Devil's Plaything, Chapter 20 – Half Truth
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, het (IchiHime, lots of other pairings eventually), yaoi, yuri, blood, guts, testosterone, ANGST, the usual
Spoilers: This is AU. We don't need spoilers where we're going.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer and/or cell phone screen.

Author's Note: Hi! Remember me? I STILL EXIST and so does this fic. It recently passed its ninth birthday! Wasn't it nice of Kubo to end the series so I could better plot the end of the fic? So I recently plotted out the world's timeline (which will be available closer to the end) as well as several key pieces moving towards the ending. If you're reading this for the first time, welcome! Be sure to follow so you can get updated when I update (whenever that will be).

The streetlights flickered to life in the dull May evening. The redhaired youth running beneath them along the cracked sidewalk cast long shadows, flickering and then disappearing into the darkness. His sweat splattered the aging concrete, evaporating almost as quickly as it hit. He didn't spare his dampness a thought at all. Crumpled paper in hand, Ichigo didn't know exactly what move he needed to make. But he did know exactly where he needed to go.

The question was, what could be done about it?

That question hung heavy in the air as he swung open the door to Urahara's shop. Eyes searching frantically, he found the younger redheaded boy and the older assistant, but the scruffy shopkeep was nowhere to be seen. The two attendants looked at Ichigo, then at one another. The boy ran into the back, calling for their boss along the way. Tessai, meanwhile, ushered Ichigo into the shop. He shut and locked the door behind them, flipping the sign to read 'closed'.

After another few minutes rushed by, Ichigo found himself shuffled into one of the rooms behind the shop where he finally saw Urahara and his familiar in her human form. Seeing the state he was in likely told the older demon everything he needed to know. After all, they'd only just been there yesterday. Barely more than twenty-four hours had passed since Orihime was placed into Ichigo's care, and there was already an accident. If he wasn't already panicking over her absence, Ichigo would have been berating himself.

Wordlessly, he shoved the note towards Urahara. The sandy-haired demon took it in one hand and fanned himself with the other while Yoruichi peered over his shoulder to snoop. After her curiosity was satisfied, she quietly slipped out of the room. Meanwhile, Urahara's eyebrows arched as he read, his expression otherwise inscrutable. Then he looked at the distraught teenager before him.

"You know something, don't you?" It was probably more desperate than Ichigo intended, but he was too out of sorts to care. His every heartbeat sounded in his ears, every pump calling out for his partner to no avail. Urahara's eyes pierced him, obviously studying him. The older demon took his measure thoroughly before speaking again.

"I do," he confirmed, "But before we do anything else, I'll need you to be more calm than you are. Do you mind?"

At first, Ichigo was slightly confused, but then he noticed what Urahara's hand was motioning towards. Yoruichi had silently fetched a small cup of tea and sat beside Ichigo while he was distracted. He gave her a wary look, sizing up the strange drink.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked suspiciously. He trusted Urahara – at least he was relatively sure he did – but he wanted answers and drinking some strange concoction didn't seem like it would provide them.

"A sedative," Urahara answered from behind his fan. "I took the liberty of storing some of Inoue-san's blood for just such an occasion. There should be just enough there to help you focus." Wasting no more time, Ichigo took the cup and drank it in one long gulp. He barely had time to register it, but his body confirmed the truth of Urahara's words – the rush of sweet fire that flooded his throat told him that a drop or two of Orihime's blood was in the cup. His heart no longer felt as though it would leap from his chest and he could breathe normally again. His mind pulled sharply into focus, as though he'd just put a strong pair of prescription glasses on over his eyes.

"Okay," Ichigo breathed. "Now, about the note. Inoue obviously didn't write it."

"No, she did not."

"Then someone took her."

"Obviously, yes."

"Do you know who?"

Urahara was silent for a long moment, his eyes sliding off to the side as he lowered his fan. It was clear he was hesitating, which only served to agitate Ichigo further.

"Dammit, old man-!"

"I'm not the one who should tell you," came the guilty reply. Ichigo could feel his teeth grind and his heart begin to pound again. They were wasting precious time that could be used to find Orihime; they didn't have time for these word games!

"If not you, then who?!" Urahara sighed and cast his gaze towards the tatami floor.

"I sent for him as soon as I heard you come in," he replied softly. "He should be here any minute." As if on cue, the older man's phone beeped in his pocket, prompting him to dig it out and glance at it. He cast another gray glance at Ichigo before rising quickly and moving towards the room's entrance.

"Speak of the devil," Urahara chimed lightly, his joviality clearly strained. Before Ichigo could protest, the blond shopkeep had disappeared, his footsteps echoing down the hallway towards the front. Yoruichi had not moved from her spot beside Ichigo, arms folded and eyes cast toward the door.

Although they were in a back room, Ichigo could still hear the sounds from out front. He heard the murmur of voices as the front door was unlocked and the smooth sound of the wood sliding in its track. Then he heard something that made his mind freeze – a voice he wasn't expecting, that quietly mortified him. He had to be mistaken! There was no way – his mind was playing tricks on him!

The moments of hearing footsteps in the hall as he waited seemed like an eternity. Simultaneously, Ichigo prayed he was wrong. Those prayers were for nothing. He watched, mortified, as the black-haired man in the black robes and hakama appeared in the doorway. A sword strikingly similar to Ichigo's hung at his hip, and a ratty white half-cape was draped over his left shoulder. His left hand was tucked loosely into his open shirt as he stepped into the light. He regarded the teen sitting cross-legged on the floor with a mixture of pity and gravity that Ichigo rarely saw on that familiar face. Ichigo looked back, open-mouthed, his shock apparent. Even as he gaped, he kicked himself mentally. He should have realized.

"I don't think I've ever properly introduced myself to you," the older man finally broke the silence. "Kurosaki Isshin, former head of Wrath House."

If there was anyone less suited to noble life in all the demon world, it had to be Shiba Isshin. In spite of his demeanor, his work ethic, his propensity towards skirt chasing, he still held a relatively high rank. In fact, despite his best efforts, he had recently been promoted to head of Wrath House after his former Head and Lieutenant had vanished under suspicious circumstances. Perhaps it was just a case of Warm Body Syndrome. Perhaps the Shiba name still meant something – after all, his cousins were also highly regarded and one of them was even a Lieutenant at Sloth House. Either way, he had barely just begun to adjust to the position when he was invited over to Greed House for a meet and greet.

Supposedly, it was to help lighten the mood after recent shake ups among the nobility. Nearly a dozen or so high-ranking demons had suddenly abandoned their posts and were presumed dead with little word from higher up about what had occurred. It was obvious there was a cover-up afoot, but Isshin was less than concerned with it; his main point of concern for the night was whether or not this get together was going to be worth his time or gas money. From the lack of available dates thus far, it seemed like his answer was going to be no.

"Knew I should've asked Rangiku-chan," he grumbled, helping himself to another drink at the refreshment table. The dearth of female company was apparent and depressing. That sexy Lieutenant from Lust House had disappeared, and her head of house was currently occupying himself across the room with his friend from Sloth, drinking himself to oblivion. The green-haired cutie from Envy was another casualty, conspicuously absent. Her Leavite Lieutenant, now promoted to head of house, was keeping to herself at the other end of the snack table, but the stone-faced pigtailed girl looked as though she'd rather cut a man's balls off as talk to him. And the blonde Amazon that was Greed House's new Yeoman had much the same look about her.

If there were no pretty, available girls, the least Isshin could do was get absolutely hammered. His grumbling, however, seemed to have attracted the attention of a silver-haired fellow to his right.

"Oh?" he asked, the tight smile not leaving his lips. "How is Rangiku-chan doing these days?" Isshin raised an eyebrow as his attention shifted to the other demon. He was the new Lieutenant of Greed House, he thought – Ginji or Kintaro or something like that. He probably knew Rangiku; most of the nobility did. Although he could tell the silver-haired man had a tinge of jealousy behind his words, Isshin still felt a tiny bit of kinship for him. After all, they had both obviously just been thrust into positions of authority recently.

"She's fine," Isshin replied. "She's my Lieutenant now at Wrath House." The other man raised a thin eyebrow, but otherwise kept his expression neutral.

"I see!" His mood had certainly seemed to improve suddenly. "Well, that certainly sounds nice. Good for her." The other demon's mouth turned slightly up at the corners and Isshin couldn't help but think that he'd missed something. Either way, it seemed that he'd already lost the new Lieutenant's attention, and he couldn't find it within himself to be too upset about it. Isshin shrugged and went back to his drink. The next time he glanced to his right, the silver-haired demon was gone.

"Huh."

Odd behavior, but Greed House had never been exactly normal. The old head of house had been exiled or made to disappear quietly when all the turnover happened. Isshin had had no reason to look too closely at them before; their head had been friends with his (also recently vanished) head of house, but at the time they had all seemed distant and above his paygrade. Isshin wasn't exactly sure he believed the rumors that they had been planning a rebellion and using forbidden technology, but disloyalty was never tolerated within the nobility either. The only strange thing about it was their high rank, and even that wasn't too far from normal. Higher ranked demons than them had rebelled before.

The new head of Greed seemed to be a nice enough guy. He looked unassuming and mild-mannered for a demon, but Isshin knew better. The ones that looked the kindest were also usually the ones with something to hide. Or maybe he was just naturally a nice guy that stumbled into a position of power. Sure, some of Greed's new pledges looked like they'd picked them up out of an alley after a bender, but they weren't the worst demons Isshin had ever seen. In fact, a fair few seemed like they were Wraiths, too. That was fine by Isshin; if any of them wanted to throw down, he would. It could really only help this boring shindig.

Finally, probably ten or fifteen minutes after the Lieutenant had disappeared, all the drinking had taken a toll on Isshin's bladder. It was time to drain the old lizard. As he stepped away from the drinks, he realized that he had absolutely no idea where the bathrooms were. All the Greed House hosts seemed to be deep in conversation with others around the room, so he figured he was on his own for now. Shrugging, he picked an open doorway off the side of the grand foyer at random and passed through.

Isshin found himself in a dark, well-kept hallway. It was in the same Edo style as the rest of the grand manor, with polished wood flooring and carefully placed flower arrangements lining the walls. Other than that, there didn't seem to be much of anything else of note. Isshin figured it was just as good as any other hallway if he didn't know where he was going. So, he started walking.

The end of the hallway forked; the right went further into the house and the left streamed with moonlight from the veranda outside. The better bet seemed to be to go outside; he could just pee in a bush and go about his business. Then he could see about possibly ditching this lame party and finding a bar or something. Now he really was disappointed he hadn't asked Rangiku along. Maybe he could stop back by Wrath House on his way out? It was two hours away and on the other side of Tokyo, though, so… probably not.

Coming out onto the veranda, Isshin could see that it led down to a traditional tea garden. There were stone lanterns dotting the gravel path, lighting the way to a black lacquered gazebo and further into the garden. He figured if he followed it, he would eventually come to a tea room or something similarly antiquated. But that wasn't part of the plan; the peony bush just off the side of the path was, though. It soon found itself being watered.

As he finished up with a quiet whistle, Isshin could've sworn he heard something from further down the garden path. It was a rustle, a small squeak, and a tiny crunch that brought to mind a little foot stepping into the gravel path. It almost sounded like… a giggle? Curiosity piqued, Isshin was momentarily distracted from his intense boredom. If there was someone else out there, especially a female someone, he wanted to know about it.

Reaching down to his waist, he clicked the limiter built into his belt buckle off. The intention was to be able to see better in the low light, but that wasn't what he got. Instead, Isshin was nearly overwhelmed with the scent that reached him. It was sweet without being cloying, like a very intense floral perfume reminiscent of honey, roses, and jasmine flowers. His sinuses prickled, the pressure building behind them in a good way. The strange part was that there had been no indication of any of this until his limiter was switched off. Isshin knew his limiter dulled his senses to a certain degree, making it possible for him to live in the human world without being absolutely overwhelmed. But this was the first time he'd ever been met with a smell so strong upon switching it off with no indication beforehand.

The other thing that was weird about it was what that smell was doing to the rest of Isshin's body. His mouth watered, his stomach clenched, his palms sweated, and his pants were beginning to feel tight. What kind of perfume did that? The forbidden scent tugged at his mind, urging him to find it right away. His body seemed to have developed a mind of its own in the course of a couple seconds, but Isshin still had enough self-possession to realize something wasn't right.

He regained enough of his senses to shake his head hard, clearing his mind momentarily. Remembering why he'd switched his limiter off in the first place, Isshin cast a quick look around and found that there was someone standing in the gazebo. As soon as he caught a glimpse of them (her?) he clicked his buckle back into place. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. His eyes adjusted, his mind cleared, and his ears stopped ringing. With the pressure in his head gone, Isshin blinked and caught his breath. Then he started walking towards the gazebo. Maybe it was the memory of that scent, but he had to find out what had caused it; whoever else was on the path would either know what caused it or could at least confirm he wasn't losing his mind.

When he began moving further down the path, the sounds of his footsteps seemed to have masked something. After a couple steps he stopped and listened. There was another gasp, along with a few soft footsteps against the wooden floor of the gazebo. There was definitely someone there. Isshin didn't need to stop and listen anymore. He strode confidently in that direction, looking to confront whoever had just watched him pee in Greed House's prize-winning peonies.

Mounting the wooden stairs of the black gazebo, he saw that there were lanterns there too; they had just been recently extinguished. At first glance, the seating area seemed to be empty. Isshin knew better. There was only one set of stairs on the platform, after all, and he was blocking them. No, there was definitely another person with him, and her attempt to hide was almost so sad it was laughable.

The young woman hid behind one of the supporting posts of the gazebo, but couldn't quite fit her entire dress behind it. It was white and sheer, and if she hadn't been in the gazebo, Isshin would've spotted her easily even with his limiter on. A large spray of climbing roses had grown up the post, shielding most of her face from view. Was that what he'd smelled? This close up and there was no fragrance at all, so probably not. Maybe his limiter was malfunctioning.

Still, he could check on that later. For right now, his main concern was this girl. From what he could see, she might have made the trip to Greed House worth it after all.

"Alright," he finally spoke, staring at her pointedly. "I know you're there." The response was an awkward laugh; he could clearly hear that she'd been trying to stifle it before, and was a little relieved now that she was caught. Only later would he find out exactly why.

"I-I'm sorry!" came the reply, voice like honey. "I-I didn't see anything, I promise! Not even when you peed in the bushes!" As the girl stepped from behind the leafy column, Isshin was finally able to get a good look at her.

Somehow, she was like the scent he'd been hit with, personified. Wavy, honey-gold hair reached to her waist, where her silky dress was cinched around with a thin tie. Her eyes weren't a discernible color in the dim evening light, but even without it they seemed to have a warm glow. And strangest of all – she was barefoot. Like a forest sprite, her legs were bare from where they escaped her dress at the knee all the way to her toes. Isshin scrutinized her. Sure, he was a horndog, but something about this girl was odd enough to give him pause. She definitely wasn't a party guest and might not have even been a fellow demon. Just what the hell was she, then?

"I'm not worried about that!" he more squawked than replied. "But, ahh… I mean, if you liked what you saw…" At this, he wriggled one eyebrow but stayed where he was. Why was that the first thing she commented on? Either way, she covered her face with her slender fingers to hide her blush and another tinkling laugh.

"Well, you should just know," she said softly, the shadows hiding her blush quite well, "That those are Aizen-sama's favorites." Maybe it was Isshin's imagination, but she didn't exactly sound upset about it.

"Aizen-sama should've put a bathroom where I could find it," he replied with a smirk. But that led him to another question that was burning at his mind. "Is he your Head of House?" At this question, the jovial young woman seemed to get apprehensive.

"Umm, not… not exactly." She didn't meet his eyes as she answered.

"Are you from a different house, then?" Her eyes shifted off to the side as an awkward grin spread across her face.

"Eh heh, we-well, about that," she stammered. The sound of noisy footsteps interrupted her, causing her to duck back behind her column. Isshin's eyebrows rose, but he silently turned to the source of the commotion instead. There were a couple of Greed House guards tromping down the veranda and onto the garden path. The taller one had limp black hair and an eyepatch with an expression that'd make a lesser man than Isshin blanch. The shorter of the two had sandy blonde hair, a matching eyepatch, and seemed much calmer. Naturally, the angry-looking one seemed to be in charge.

"Oi, you there!" he barked at Isshin, who was now at the bottom of the gazebo steps. "The party's inside, asshole. Get back with the other guests." Normally, Isshin would have torn off his belt and gone at it with both fists, but he also knew how to bide his time. He figured he'd learn more about what was going on if he played along.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he replied sheepishly. "I was tryin' ta take a leak, y'know? Guess I got lost." The black-haired man rolled his eye before jerking a thumb back toward the house.

"Whatever, just go back to the party," he sneered. "We're looking for someone, we ain't got time to hold your dick while you piss." Outwardly, Isshin was politely indifferent, but inwardly he wanted to beat the information out of this punk.

"Haven't seen anyone else out here, but if you tell me what they look like I can keep an eye out?" Something told him that he needed to keep that woman away from this trash. Probably the fact that he looked like a giant pervert.

"Nah, if you'd seen her, you'd know," he sneered, turning on his heel and beckoning to his companion. "C'mon, Tesla, she ain't out here." The blond followed suit, heading back to the house.

"Down the hall and to the left," Tesla murmured over his shoulder as he reached the veranda. "And don't touch the hand towels." Even though he was a guest, even the quiet one could hardly hide his disdain. Isshin smiled and waved until they were out of sight, at which point he dropped the fake expression and sneered at their backs.

"Shove your hand towels up your ass," he grumbled before turning back to the girl hidden in the gazebo. He cast her a slightly grumpy glare before stepping back up the stairs. She looked absolutely stricken. "What was that all about?"

"Umm," she stammered, twirling a sprig of hair between slender fingers. "You aren't from Greed House. Are you here with your Head of House?" Isshin quirked an eyebrow and shook his head.

"I am my Head of House," he replied warily. What was she getting at? "I'm Amon, from Wrath. You can call me Isshin, though." Upon hearing this, the woman's entire demeanor changed. She went from being shy and cute to looking almost panicked.

"Isshin-san, then," she whispered, reaching out to tug him further into the gazebo by his shirt. "Please, help me. I don't have long before they come back, but… I need to get back to Karakura-cho!"

It was a miracle they got out of Greed House at all, let alone undetected. The barefoot girl couldn't move well over the gravel pathways out of the garden, so Isshin carried her on his back. The tea garden was almost a maze, as most of them were; it jutted out into a lake like a peninsula, surrounded by water on all sides except a small pathway around the castle keep and the entrance from the house itself. This was probably intentional; one of Japan's first ruling demon lords, one known for his love of tea and mind games, had designed the garden and the castle itself.

The small path was an obvious chokepoint. Isshin might not have had great low-light vision with his limiter on, but he didn't want to risk shutting it off just then to look for any hidden guards. If he got hit with the same scent as before, he'd turn into a slobbering mess and that wouldn't get them out of there. It looked like the roof was the best way out. To that end, Isshin climbed the siding of the house, helped the girl up behind him, and within a couple minutes they were running along the eaves with her safely on his back again. Surprisingly, they didn't raise an alarm this way.

Another few minutes found them hopping on Isshin's black bike and skidding down Greed House's gravel driveway. Rocks and dirt sprayed in their wake, over the shouts of the poor driveway guard running behind them. They'd probably send the bill for the repairs to Wrath House if he was recognized. Then again, if this was as serious as Isshin thought it might be, going back to Wrath House tonight might not be the best idea.

As they sped through the castle town and towards the highway, the blonde girl wrapped her arms tightly around Isshin's waist. Talking on the back of a motorcycle, over the sound of air rushing past them, was probably a non-starter. Whatever her deal was, it could wait until they were back in Karakura.

An hour and a half later, they pulled into an all-night gas station to fill up the tank on Isshin's bike. It was barely past 9 o'clock, but it was already dark enough to hide them well. Still, the bright lights of the gas pumps made him more than a little nervous. He wanted to be gone as soon as possible.

"Alright, lady," he grumbled, banging the nozzle of the pump into his metal tank. "We're almost back in Karakura. Which way are we headed?" He sincerely doubted she wanted to go to Wrath House. Instead, she looked slightly confused.

"Umm," she began, fiddling with her hair again. "I'm sorry, I'm not really good with directions yet. But… my name is Masaki. Kurosaki Masaki." If she wasn't so dang cute, Isshin would've been furious.

"I'm not gonna ask why you're on the run from Belial, Masaki-san," Isshin grumbled. "But at least tell me where to take you." Her guilt was nearly palpable.

"I'm sorry for getting you involved," she nearly whispered, "I know I was living in Karakura when he got me. I guess it's been half a year now. I'm a little worried that the family I was with won't remember me…" Isshin's eyebrow drifted upwards. What was this girl's deal?

"The family you were with?" he asked the obvious. "Where is your actual family?" The nervous look off to the side told Isshin he wasn't getting a satisfactory answer.

"I ran away," she said guiltily, twisting her skirt in her hands. "Going back isn't really an option, so I was staying with the Ishida family. They're… my distant relatives." The tank was full, so Isshin removed the nozzle and clinked it back into place on the pump.

This was just what he needed; sticking his neck out for a teenage runaway. Sure, she was drop dead gorgeous, and if he were a lesser man he'd probably be driving her back to Wrath House (or at least a motel). It wasn't like he was overly attached to his new job title, but if he really was crossing Belial, chances were that he wouldn't be keeping it for long. Still yet, what was Greed House doing, kidnapping a teenage girl? It was possible that Belial might work something out with him if he didn't report that up the chain of command, but there was no way he was giving this girl back.

That meant delivering her back to the Ishida clan. They were a fairly well-known family of human doctors that had lived in Karakura-cho for years. Supposedly, they were descendants of some of the last Japanese demon hunters, but they had never really given the Shiba clan any trouble. Isshin was fairly sure he could just look their address up in a phone booth, or better yet, ask to be connected to their home phone line by the phone operator. Conveniently, there was one on the edge of the gas station parking lot. With a sigh, he mounted his bike, switched it on, and kicked it into gear.

"What's the patriarch's name?" Isshin asked, not bothering to put his helmet back on just yet. Masaki still wrapped her arms around him again and put her cheek against his back.

"Souken-san," she replied quietly. "Why?"

"C'mon," he said warmly. "I'll teach you how to use a phone booth."

From then on, it was a relatively simple matter to contact Masaki's caretakers and arrange a meeting with them. Isshin had expected to be told to keep her overnight and meet with them first thing in the morning. After all, she was more-or-less a teenage delinquent, so it wouldn't even have been out of the realm of possibility for them to reject her outright.

Surprisingly, the gentleman who took the call was not only happy to hear that Masaki was safe, but also arranged his family to come get her at once. Ishida Souken thanked Isshin profusely, then told him he'd be at the gas station within half an hour. The man sounded ancient, so Isshin didn't expect him to show up at all, let alone that quickly. He figured it would be younger family members. Still, it was a welcome relief to hear that Masaki would be taken care of. The only problem was how vulnerable he felt in that all-night gas station's parking lot.

Shoving that nervous feeling aside, Isshin turned to Masaki. She was sitting side-saddle on his bike now that she knew they weren't going anywhere else together. The look she was giving him – expectant, warm, and nervous – almost made his heart stop.

"Isshin-san," she said quietly, fiddling again with the hem of her dress, "I might not see you again after tonight, but… I just want you to know how much this means to me." Isshin smiled in return. This was probably going to get him shitcanned, but Masaki seemed like a nice enough girl.

"It's no problem," he lied. "Human girls shouldn't get wrapped up with us demons if they don't have to." That part wasn't exactly a lie, but Isshin figured if she was a year or two older he wouldn't mind getting wrapped up with her either. She gave him a quizzical look for a second before continuing.

"I just… wanted to warn you," she murmured. "Don't trust Aizen. The other people that were in his way, they're already gone. If he finds out you took me…" She was mostly repeating things Isshin had already figured out, but hearing that Belial had eliminated his rivals tickled Isshin's curiosity. Rather than acknowledge that, he just grinned cockily in return.

"Don't worry about me," he replied with a wink. "Remember, I'm head of Wrath House myself. If he gives you any more trouble, just tell me." Masaki's smile seemed to say she didn't quite believe that, but she was grateful anyway. Moreover, she'd given Isshin something to think about. If Aizen had gotten rid of people, did that mean he was connected with the disappearances?

"Hey," he continued after another few moments of silence, "When you said he got rid of people, did you mean… to get promoted?" Masaki's eyes widened as though she'd seen something terrible. It was a moment before she began to speak again.

"He -"

The sound of a mid-sized white sedan pulling into the gas station interrupted her. Isshin swore under his breath and stepped in front of her. There was a breathless pause of several long moments while the car pulled to a stop and was put into park. The windows weren't tinted, but it was a fair bit too dark to see inside. Even so, the doors wasted no time in swinging open; Isshin dropped into a half-stance just in case it was Belial or his men.

What emerged from the car, however, was a retirement-aged old man with a formidable mustache and a pristine white suit. He walked with a cane and seemed to be wearing a white cloak, scarf, and hat to keep the evening chill at bay. The two passenger-side doors opened to reveal a much younger man and woman, the man also in all white and the woman in black. If Isshin had to guess, he would say they were the old man's son and maid respectively. They were fairly passive as the old man approached.

"You were the one who called, correct?" the old man, whom Isshin assumed was Souken, queried. "Shiba-san, was it?" Isshin visibly relaxed and stepped aside, allowing them to easily see Masaki.

"Right," he said, relieved. At this acknowledgement, the old man smiled under his bushy mustache and held his arms open for the girl on the back of the motorcycle. Whatever tears Masaki had been storing burst forth at this gesture; she hopped off the bike, sobbing her eyes out, and threw herself into the fatherly man's arms. If she had done that earlier, Isshin would've likely groused at her for making him uncomfortable, so at least he only had to watch.

Surprisingly, Souken only consoled her for a few moments before handing her off to his attendants. He then turned to Isshin while they walked the barefoot girl back to the sedan. Just for a second, Isshin could've sworn she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Thank you very much, young man," Souken said quietly, bowing to him. "You don't know how important this was to us. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to ask." Isshin smiled awkwardly and ruffled the short hair at the back of his head.

"It's no problem, really," he replied, bowing in return. "I already told her, but if you guys ever need help…" The old man's eyes crinkled behind his spectacles. Was it possible he was already knowledgeable about demonic affairs?

"I'm familiar with your family name," the elder Ishida said with a slight smile. "I wouldn't want our wayward girl to cause you any trouble. But… know that at the very least I appreciate the offer." His free hand slid behind the lapel of his white suit, producing a business card. Isshin took it, noting the high quality cardstock, thick and silken. There was a light blue stripe parallel to the left edge, and the old man's name and number were printed in plain, dignified black font.

"That's my personal, secured line," he said quietly. "If anything… strange begins to happen around you, don't hesitate to call." His voice was low and serious, giving Isshin a moment's pause. What exactly did he mean by that? Before he could ask, the old man had bowed again, doffed his hat, and begun heading back to his sedan. His family had already disappeared into the car with Masaki. Isshin watched them pull out with the card in his hand, puzzled by the old man's last words.

Pushing it out of his mind, he mounted his bike and prepared to head back to Wrath House. Whatever was waiting for him there would be a shitshow, but at least he thought he knew what he was walking into.