It’s worse in the dead of night, when the echoes of Sousuke’s presence prove strongest, and Souheki is curled in sleep.
Kisuke sits at his desk, raises his eyes, and watches their daughter, quiet in repose, face for once eased of fear and inexplicable grief. It’s been more than a few years, but that hasn’t dampened the pain for either of them. If anything, the agony has only grown stronger, deeper, has embedded it’s roots deep into Kisuke’s being, bearing fruit of bitterness and fury.
Their daughter is old enough now to understand that Sousuke is not coming back. No matter how much either of them wish it. That conversation had been no easier for Kisuke than it had been for Souheki.
Frowning, Kisuke drags his eyes back to his desk and the papers spread across it. They’d not been easy to come by, but Kisuke had been a member of the second division for a reason. Schematics and shift schedules and recent promotions are laid out before him.
He’d have to start here, of course. Wriggle his way into power, start at the lowest bases, until his influence was so well-entrenched Soul Society and the soutaichou would have no choice but to bow to him. Kisuke won’t obtain this in the same grand manner as Sousuke had attempted, but his goal isn’t the same as Sousuke’s either.
He wants to see Soul Society burn and whatever rises from the ashes will be Kisuke’s to claim. They won’t see it coming either. They’ll have no clue, no premonition. He’ll be sly and ruthless, quiet and confined. He’ll infect them from the inside out.
There won’t be a war. No vast and destructive battle. The Shinigami won’t have the chance to counterattack. They’ll spend the rest of their lives wondering, how, how did they let the poison consume them.
Kisuke is patient. He has nothing but time now, and more than enough rage for fuel. He has Souheki’s future to attend. He has his own vengeance to wrought.
He bends over the papers again, brush swiping over sections of Seireitei. Eyes flitting over carefully inked notations on each Shinigami. Their weaknesses, their dark desires, their pressure points. One by one, they will fall to him. He simply has to calculate the most effective means of subverting each and every one.
He’ll let Yamamoto fall last. Not out of kindness. Let the old man reap what he sowed and die weeping. All the better.
It can be done. Kisuke just has to be patient. Careful. He will have his vengeance, but he’ll be smart about it. He has all the time in the world.