Jyuushiro hummed softly to himself as he navigated the quiet maze of shelves deep in the heart of the First Division; he’d gotten himself a bit lost after talking with the Soutaicho, but… it was fine. He didn’t particularly need to be anywhere any time soon, and Yamamoto wasn’t going to hunt him down either, since he technically had permission to be in the archives. Sure, the shelves he was supposed to look for were closer to the front, but no one had to know.

(Besides, it was peaceful wandering through the quiet archives like this.)

(A welcome relief from the quiet-heavy-concerned looks everyone, even Shunsui, were giving him after his recent fight with a Vasto Lorde.)

(He understood their worry but… he was a Captain!)

(He wasn’t helpless!)

(He wasn’t.)

The deeper he went, the older everything got, though at least nothing got particularly dustier.

(He didn’t envy whoever was tasked with keeping the whole archive clean.)

(The First Division’s archive was smaller than Central 46’s archive, but it was still large.)

He moved past shelf after shelf of stacks of scrolls precariously balanced, sheaves of paper stacked haphazardly, and the occasional…

Jyuushiro paused to squint at a dagger tucked away on a corner of one shelf, weighing down a collection of papers: someone’s forgotten weapon, or something that actually belonged down here? He had no idea, and no desire to find out.

With a touch of amusement, he continued on, idly paying attention to the shelves around him, before—

Something snagged at his awareness, sharp and jagged like a sudden paper cut, and Jyuushiro froze. Scanned the area carefully. Tried to figure out where—

The sensation vanished as soon as he turned. Reappeared as soon as he moved back. Changed in intensity as he swayed a bit from side to side, searching-searching-searching…

It wasn’t, he decided after a moment, anything in the shelves around him. Nor from the ceiling overhead. But the floor…

Jyuushiro knelt and examined the stone flooring, running his gaze over the pattern carved into the stone. It didn’t look any different from any other piece of flooring around him, not really, but… no. It was different. Barely, but it was different. There was another pattern hidden under the first, a tracery of a seal of some kind, and— there. There was a small chip in one of the lines, just enough to break the concealment part of the seal and catch his attention when he walked over it.

Mystery solved, Jyuushiro hesitated, staring at the seal with a thoughtful frown; whatever was hidden back here, amidst some of the most ancient, most useless records, was nothing that Yamamoto would want him to poke his nose into. Would probably punish him for if he was caught, no matter how ‘favored’ he usually was. And yet… and yet…

With a soft sigh, Jyuushiro began to examine the flooring around the seal, looking for any other seals that might alert Yamamoto to the first being accessed.

(This was a terrible idea.)

Finding nothing, Jyuushiro returned to the first seal and examined it closer, tracing the lines and symbols until he had the majority of it figured out: here the concealment bit, there the lock, there a second lock on the first lock, connected to an alert, there the action — movement of some sort? — and there a final, tiny, easily overlooked blip of an alert that needed to be disarmed first.

(This was a terrible idea.)

(He should get up, should leave, before his curiosity led him into a situation he couldn’t survive.)

(But… what was hidden back here?)

(What needed to be hidden so deep in the First Division’s archives?)

Before he could second-third-fourth guess himself, Jyuushiro hastily channeled a bit of reiatsu and disarmed the little blip of an alert, disarmed the second lock, then the first lock, then triggered the action and—

Had to throw himself backwards as the bit of floor under his feet moved, sinking down and then under another bit of floor, revealing a flight of stairs descending into darkness.

He stared down into the darkness, straining his eyes in an effort to see anything, only to fail; it was like the stairs just vanished after a point, the pale stone fading away into nothingness only a handful of steps beyond the entrance.

(This was a terrible idea!)

Jyuushiro took a deep breath, then wrinkled his nose at the scent of stale, dusty air coming up from the hidden area; clearly whatever method of cleaning was occurring in the archives, it didn’t extend below into the secret area he’d just uncovered. He hesitated a moment longer, then gathered himself and started descending the stairs.

Lights whooshed into existence with every step he took, outlining the pale stone stairs and very little else; the darkness seemed to extend forever in all directions, an empty stretch of nothingness where even his footsteps refused to echo.

(Where even was this?)

He kept his breathing steady as he descended, senses on alert for anything else out of the ordinary, up to and including traps or more alarms… but nothing happened, even as the steps — and thus the lights — ran out, leaving him standing on a bottom step that seemed to hover over nothingness. The final two lights on either side of the last step didn’t reflect off of anything, their light lost in the darkness below, and Jyuushiro carefully knelt, stretching a hand out to touch—

Something solid.

He blinked. Slid his fingers over the cool, almost glassy surface that his fingers said existed but his eyes couldn’t see.

(Right…)

(Some sort of kido-generated space, perhaps?)

(He had a bad feeling about whatever was down here…)

Jyuushiro stood back up and peered out into the darkness, unwilling to leave the stairs without at least some sort of goal. The darkness stretched on and on in all directions, formless and empty and—

There. In the distance to his left there was a sullen red glow, difficult to spot unless actively searched for.

Goal spotted, Jyuushiro flicked a tiny spell at the last step — a simple locator, so he could find his way back even if the lights went out — and then slowly set out across the darkness towards the glow. It… wasn’t hard to walk across the invisible surface, no matter what he’d expected, and he approached the source of the glow quicker than anticipated.

(Either the darkness was making distances hard to judge, or distances were… relative in this strange space.)

(He really didn’t want to guess which.)

The glow itself…

Was an array.

An array with a person in the middle!

The person was laying on their back, arms tucked behind their head and one leg bent, foot planted on the invisible floor and the other leg crossed over their raised knee. To one side, contained inside a second, smaller, offshoot array circle, was a sword that had been driven point-first into the floor.

“Our answer is still no,” the person stated flatly as Jyuushiro stepped closer, not even bothering to move from their relaxed pose.

“Your… answer?” Jyuushiro couldn’t help but ask, unease rising at the unprompted words. What answer? And who did this person think he was?

(No… he knew the answer to that one.)

(This person was expecting the Soutaicho.)

The person sucked in a quick, shocked breath and heaved themself over to land in a braced crouch, their long hair splaying around them and their chin tipping up, pale eyes narrowed and expression grim and—

Immediately froze, their gaze tracking across Jyuushiro in first disbelief, then uncertainty, then wonder, as if they’d never expected to see someone else down here.

Which, Jyuushiro awkwardly acknowledged, was a fair assessment; he wasn’t supposed to be down here, wasn’t supposed to be interacting with this… prisoner?… and his presence here wasn’t likely to end well if Yamamoto caught him down here. Favored or not, if his teacher had gone to this amount of effort to keep this being a secret, well…

(His strength aside, it would be very easy for Yamamoto to… arrange something to see him removed without anyone the wiser.)

(Everyone knew his illness left him weakened at times, especially after a stressful fight…)

Jyuushiro took a careful, deliberate breath and tucked his hands into his sleeves as he forced his worries back and gave the unknown person a small, friendly smile. “Hello there,” he greeted the other, even as he looked them over, taking in the strange way their waist-length hair started out blond and changed to black around their shoulders, the prominent, stitch-like scars tracing over the other’s eyes and down their cheeks, the strange, sloppy, dark clothing exposing part of their — his? — chest…

The person just kept watching him, gaze going calculating as they slowly rose to their feet and stepped closer to the inner boundary of the array. “You shouldn’t be here,” they finally said, one hand lifting only to waver in the air before falling back to their side. “Unless this is some new ploy?” they asked, head tilting slightly and every trace of emotion vanishing beneath cold calculation. “Has your Soutaicho gotten so annoyed at our refusals that he’s trying something new at long last? We never thought we’d see the day.”

“He hasn’t,” Jyuushiro hastened to assure the other, then pursed his lips and cast a thoughtful look over his shoulder towards the stairs. “At least… I’m fairly certain he hasn’t,” he hedged, thinking back to his meandering path through the archives. Had his path been manipulated so he’d end up above the concealed array? Had the array itself been deliberated damaged so he’d notice it?

It… didn’t seem likely, Jyuushiro decided after some thought; nothing in particular had guided him into that random aisle, and the damage to the concealed array was too delicate, frankly. If he hadn’t stepped just right, he’d have never noticed anything more than a slight change in the ambient reishi, nothing unusual in a place as old as the building the First Division inhabited. Nor did it seem entirely like Yamamoto’s style, to let him blindly stumble into such a secret without at least some sort of hint or… or something that would sway his mind towards whatever goal the man wanted.

(As it was, the only thing he could think of was how much trouble he was probably going to be in if he was discovered.)

(Not exactly conducive towards any particular goal.)

“Huh,” the stranger murmured, pale eyes sharp and searching as they examined Jyuushiro again. “Did you seriously… did you sneak in here?” they asked with a touch of gleeful disbelief, swaying forward before flinching back again as the array’s light flared brighter. “Who’d have ever thought, someone sneaking into a place their Soutaicho hid away… because he hid us somewhere close, didn’t he? Somewhere he could keep an eye on no matter what.”

Jyuushiro hummed softly, letting his (relative) silence speak for itself as he considered the stranger, and then the sword just as trapped, sealed away in an extension of the same array, together but at the same time forever separate. If the stranger was a Shinigami, he’d think the precaution a bit strange, perhaps even too much — for all their powers and strength, zanpakutou couldn’t rescue their wielder in the normal way of things — but… something about the other made it feel… necessary. Whether it was their odd dual-toned hair or the way they moved or their use of ‘we’ and ‘us’ or something he hadn’t even consciously registered… he had the feeling that to free one was to free both, no matter which one was freed first.

“So what are you going to do now? Going to run from the beast your Soutaicho has trapped beneath your feet? Going to tell him to brick our cage up tighter?” the stranger goaded, lips curled into a sharp facsimile of a smile.

“Why are you down here?” Jyuushiro asked instead of bothering to answer any of the mocking questions, watching the way the other faltered slightly at Jyuushiro’s question before they forced their smile sharper-colder-deadlier.

“Do you really trust us to answer that, little Shinigami?” the other prodded, one hand twitching towards their head before clenching into a fist and dropping the inch or so back to their side. “Why would you trust someone locked up to tell you why? Surely you know we’ll just lie to you.”

Jyuushiro arched an eyebrow at the other. “Will you? That seems counterproductive to potentially gaining your freedom.”

His words clearly took the other aback, their eyes widening slightly and their smile dropping into a moue of confusion for a heartbeat, before they spun on their (bare!) heel with a scoff and stalked back to the very center of the array. “We should have expected such cruelty from a Shinigami,” they grumbled, though Jyuushiro couldn’t sense anything more than tired acceptance in their words. “Freedom? Hah. The only easy way out of this trap is to bind ourselves to a Shinigami, and we refuse to subject ourselves to that.”

And that… well, that answered many of Jyuushiro’s questions, didn’t it? Whoever this was, whatever they really were… if Yamamoto had tried to coerce them into working for him and they’d turned him down…

(Jyuushiro was not blind to the true history of the group he’d joined.)

(No one his age or older could afford to be blind to that history, not really.)

(It was just that the organization Yamamoto was building offered too many benefits to too many people.)

(It was too easy to look the other way, to forget, and yet…)

“And what would you do, if you had your freedom?” Jyuushiro couldn’t help but ask. “Would you destroy Seireitei?”

“And what if we say we will?” the other asked without turning back around, back stiff and bare feet braced. “Will you finally leave?”

“I would ask if I couldn’t persuade you to limit your vengeance to those who have personally had a hand in your suffering.”

The other twisted around, eyes narrowed and gaze searching as they exclaimed, “that’s your teacher,” before abruptly clamping their mouth shut and turning away again, shoulders inching towards their ears. “You are unbelievable,” they muttered tiredly. “Just… just go away, already. We’re tired of this conversation.”

Jyuushiro let silence descend between them as he frowned down at the array holding the other captive. He… he should leave, the other was right. He should leave and forget about the being trapped beneath the First Division, trapped and at the mercy of the Soutaicho…

“Why does he want you to bind yourself to… him, I’m guessing?” Jyuushiro asked as he knelt at the border of the array, examining it closer so he could start to pick it apart in his head. Arrays weren’t exactly his specialty, but he had to do something with all the times he was bed-bound and bored out of his mind, and studying at least kept his mind engaged.

“Why else would he want something like that? Power, we’re assuming,” the other answered almost flippantly, though the sidelong glance they threw at the similarly-bound katana was… telling.

(No, ‘power’ wasn’t exactly the answer, was it?)

(Yamamoto was already powerful.)

(But a bound entity, independent enough to act on its own but with an undeniable master…)

(Oh yes, Jyuushiro could see why such a thing might be tempting.)

(After all, wasn’t it better if such a dangerous being was… safely controlled?)

Jyuushiro hummed and deliberately shook that line of thought free; whatever sort of being this was, they were still a person and deserved more than to be trapped in darkness forever or bound to someone who would do nothing but use them.

Of course, none of that mattered if Jyuushiro couldn’t figure out a way to either circumvent the array or break it; the other seemed to think the only way out was to bind themself to someone else, but… binding was such a vague clause.

(Would a shallow temporary bond be enough, or did it have to be something deeper, something more permanent?)

Thoughtfully, Jyuushiro shuffled slowly around the array, taking it all in and deconstructing it piece by piece, feeling a frown grow as he started to figure it out. It was a brutally straightforward thing, sealing the being and the blade away from the world and then from each other, and the release was, as the being had said, for the blade to form a bond with someone else.

(But critically, it never specified the type of bond, just a bond…)

(He could use that.)

“You can look all you want, but it’s a straightforward seal,” the being said in exasperation. “Unless you think you’re powerful enough to brute force something that your Soutaicho cast.”

Jyuushiro glanced up at the being, who was watching him with a flat, tired gaze, and then back down to the array; they were right that Jyuushiro alone wouldn’t be able to brute force it apart, and there was no guarantee that he’d ever be able to return, much less with Shunsui at his side. Which left forming a bond. Which required the agreement of the being across from him and, if he wanted to be safe, the agreement of Sōgyo no Kotowari as well.

Mind made up, Jyuushiro dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes, reaching inwards towards his zanpakutou. It wasn’t jinzen proper — he highly doubted he had time for that down here — but it was enough to get a better sense of Sōgyo no Kotowari’s feelings, enough to register curiosity-interest-agreement from the twins.

(Good.)

(Now he could ask.)

“What about a temporary bond?” Jyuushiro asked, opening his eyes and lifting his head to meet the other’s gaze once again. “The array doesn’t specific the type, just that you and your blade need to bond to someone else.”

The being froze, gaze darting down to the array at their feet then back over to Jyuushiro. “And you would do that? You would set yourself against your Soutaicho because of… what… pity?”

Jyuushiro frowned and sat back on his heels, absently tossing his ponytail back over his shoulder as he did. “If the Soutaicho sealed you down here because he wants to use you, me wanting to free you is hardly pity. It’s just… this isn’t right. You don’t deserve this.”

“How do you know that we don’t?” the being asked archly, arms crossing over their chest and chin tipping stubbornly up. “We could be a great threat to everyone, and your Soutaicho sealed us down here to save Seireitei from our evil ways.”

“Your evil ways?” Jyuushiro repeated with amusement. “Unless you’ve been here longer than the Academy has been in existence, I’m fairly certain there’s nothing I can pin on you that would warrant being sealed like this.”

The being huffed and said, “You can’t know that—”

“So you have been down here longer than the Academy?” Jyuushiro prodded.

“Well… well no,” the being conceded with a frown. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”

Jyuushiro rose back to his feet and stepped around the array until he was standing near the blade, keeping his hands at his side in order to not put the being further on edge as he asked, “Do you… not want freedom?”

The being hesitated, gaze darting from Jyuushiro to the blade then away towards the distant light of the stairs out, before returning once more to start the cycle over again. Finally, with a quiet sigh, the being said, “We have nothing beyond your word that any bond we form will be temporary, and we have not refused your Soutaicho for so long just to give in to the pretty words of the first unknown to show up.”

“What can I do to reassure you, then?” Jyuushiro asked. “I know that you have no reason to trust me, but… I want to help you.”

The being’s lips pursed. “We… don’t know,” they admitted quietly. “Trust is… not easy. Putting ourselves in your hands is…” they paused for a moment, head tipping back to stare up at the darkness overhead, then continued with, “We had a goal, at one point. A reason for being… here, in Seireitei. We thought… we thought we could achieve our goal and then move on, but then your Soutaicho caught us. Sealed us down here. Ignored our warnings in favor of imprisoning us…!”

“Warnings?” Jyuushiro frowned in concern; unless Yamamoto was keeping things under wraps — not entirely unbelievable, but surely he’d have let something slip to Jyuushiro or Shunsui? — then… no. He hadn’t done anything about any ‘warnings’ this being had told him.

(Unless the warnings proved to be false?)

(That was always a possibility, but Jyuushiro couldn’t remember the Soutaicho looking into anything of particular note in all the decades he’d known the man.)

“And you would deign to listen when your Soutaicho didn’t?” the being asked sharply.

Jyuushiro hummed softly, considering his options, then said, “Warnings should be looked into, no matter how outlandish they might initially sound. Advance notice can mean the difference between victory and defeat.”

The being fixed him with a look, something dark-thoughtful-considering lurking deep in pale eyes, before slowly saying, “And you would… look into these things? When your Soutaicho didn’t?”

“He was my teacher, but I’m not him,” Jyuushiro reminded the other firmly. “I would. And if I can’t do it alone, I’ll ask my friend to help.”

“And… your friend would just… go along with it?” the other asked, clearly skeptical of this idea.

“He would.”

The other grimaced and glanced away, hesitating just long enough for Jyuushiro to start to worry, before suddenly saying, “If… if you swear that the bond will be temporary, and you help us get out of here… then we will tell you once we’re free.”

“I swear it,” Jyuushiro immediately answered, not needing to think the offer over at all; he’d never intended to form any sort of permanent bond anyway, so a promise like that was easy.

“Then… then fine,” the other finally agreed, wary-cautious-hopeful as they stepped closer to the edge of the array. “We agree. We will accept a bond from you, and only you.”

Jyuushiro inclined his head in acceptance — he’d never intended to deceive the other by passing the bond off — and reached out towards the hilt of the sword, watching the other’s expression carefully as he did, which was… educational. Flickers of discomfort-wariness-resignation warred with hope in the other’s gaze as Jyuushiro’s hand got closer to the hilt of the blade, flaring brighter as Jyuushiro’s fingers brushed against the wrapping, and then—

And then something sharp-vicious-hungry surged up to meet him, snapping at his fingers — at his reiatsu presence — like a feral, wounded dog.

Jyuushiro hissed. Forced himself not to flinch away. Closed his eyes and breathed even as he let his reiatsu extend further beyond his reach, draping it gently across the hilt and just… let it rest there. Let it be, even as the presence in the blade radiated fear-fury-helplessness and tried to throw his reiatsu off.

(So… two beings then, one in the body and one in the blade, but tangled together until it was hard to feel where one ended and the other began.)

(Maybe the blade could have freed the being if it hadn’t also been sealed.)

(Fascinating.)

He waited, patient-calm-steady, as the being in the blade slowly wore itself out—

(How long had these two been separated?)

(How long had these two been sealed away?)

(…and what did they even eat down here…?)

—and then waited even past the point where the blade ceased directly resisting, not pressing his suit but still letting warmth-invitation-promise infuse his reiatsu.

(He would force a bond upon the blade if it came down to it, but… he didn’t want to.)

(Not yet.)

(Not if he could help it.)

And meanwhile he let the sense of the two beings settle in his mind now that he had access to their reiatsu and could differentiate them; the blade’s spirit radiated a sense of blood-steel-fury, and through her Jyuushiro could finally sense the other, all shadow-steel-focus as he watched from his own seal, practically vibrating with the need to do something even though he was still bound, still helpless, once a master but now just a partner, just as vulnerable as his own blade, able to be bound to another’s will even against his own—

Jyuushiro took a calming breath and carefully set aside his revelation—

(What in the world could turn a Shinigami into a zanpakutou?!)

—in favor of focusing on the moment. On convincing the spirit in the blade that he meant his agreement with her partner. That he meant neither of them harm. That he would let them go as soon as they were safe. That he didn’t need — didn’t want — their power for himself, just wanted to free them, just wanted to help them…

Finally, finally, a sense of grudging acceptance came from the blade’s spirit, and Jyuushiro breathed a sigh of relief. He let his reiatsu slip gently into the blade, weaving a light bond between the two of them even as he closed his hand around the hilt at last and pulled—

The blade came free of the seal without a hint of resistance.

Jyuushiro let the tension drain from his limbs as he opened his eyes at last, watching as the dull crimson light slowly drained from the array, leaving them standing in the dim, directionless light of the kido space.

“Maa… we guess we should thank you,” the other said awkwardly as he stepped across the deactivated array and came to stand in front of Jyuushiro. His gaze flickered down to the blade in Jyuushiro’s hand then just as quickly away again, towards the stairs out. “We suppose we should ask if you have a plan on how to get us past your Soutaicho, or if you just intend to hope he’s not around.”

Jyuushiro blinked at the question, then gave the other a lopsided smile and said, “Well, I suppose I hadn’t quite thought that far ahead yet. Though, now that I’ve a bond with the two of you… hmm.” He eyed the blade in his hand thoughtfully, considering what he could sense from the two spirits, then asked, “Do you think you could seal your blade into a smaller form? And… hmm… I’m not certain if it’s possible, but you do feel akin to a zanpakutou, so… perhaps you could hide in my inner world while we leave the First Division?”

The other stared at him for a long, frozen moment, before blurting out, “You’d just… let me do that? Your own zanpakutou can’t be comfortable with the idea of a stranger entering your inner world!”

A quick, wordless question sent inward rewarded him with excitement-curiosity-fascination from the twins, so Jyuushiro just gave the other a warm smile and said, “On the contrary, they’re interested in meeting you. You’re probably the most interesting thing that’s happened to them in decades, if I’m being truthful.”

“You…” the other trailed off, as if uncertain how to complete that thought, then shook his head and barked a rough, disbelieving laugh and softly murmured, “This has to be some sort of dream…” while staring past Jyuushiro and towards the stairs.

“It’s no dream,” Jyuushiro reassured him, while stepping back and gesturing for the other to follow him back. “Come, we should get moving before someone notices my disappearance and raises a fuss.”

“A… fuss?” the other asked in confusion as he trailed after Jyuushiro, one hand making an odd little gesture at the array as he went, not that Jyuushiro could sense what he was doing. “If this is the First Division, why would… why would anyone raise a fuss? You’re… a Captain, aren’t you? You have a haori…”

“I am,” Jyuushiro agreed ruefully, gaze fixed on the way out. “But I recently had an… unfortunate encounter with a Vasto Lorde, and certain people have taken to hovering as if I’m made out of glass. It’s been… frustrating.”

“Hence your little rebellion that managed to discover us.”

“Well, I only meant to hide out in the division records for a bit, but… yes.” Jyuushiro paused at the base of the stairs and undid the little locator spell. “Ah… a question. Is there a name I can call you by?”

The other paused at his side, repeating the odd little gesture from before, and then slanted a considering look his way. “You may call me Kisuke,” he settled on after a moment, then tilted his head to look up the stairs. “Are you certain you wish to allow me into your inner world?” Kisuke asked again, his hands tucked behind his back and his body tense in a way Jyuushiro didn’t like. “I’m a fair hand at stealth. I could just… take my blade and make my own way out.”

“I don’t mind sneaking you out myself, but if that’s what you want,” Jyuushiro agreed, turning towards Kisuke to offer the man his blade. “I only know of one way out of the records, which passes right by the Soutaicho’s office, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other ways out.”

Kisuke grimaced even as he reached out, setting a hand over his blade’s hilt and curling his fingers to touch Jyuushiro’s hand, and then said, “No, I suppose you’re right. Last chance to back out of letting an unknown like me in, then.”

“You’ve given me no reason to retract my offer,” Jyuushiro reminded Kisuke kindly.

Kisuke’s gaze swept searchingly over Jyuushiro’s face once more, before he sighed, closed his eyes, and… faded away.

Jyuushiro swallowed at the odd sensation of weight that settled on the edges of his awareness, then took a careful breath and lowered Kisuke’s blade back to his side in order to rub at his chest. He could feel the drain on his reiryoku already, heavy and steady in a way that practically guaranteed that Kisuke and his blade had been without any external source of sustenance in… a long while.

(Hopefully Kisuke would allow the bond to remain long enough for him and his blade to regain at least some of their strength.)

(The amount of power they were unconsciously pulling was worrying.)

(How had they survived…?)

Jyuushiro forced his mind away from those worries and glanced down at Kisuke’s blade, debating the best way to hide it; it was a bit too long to tuck behind Sōgyo no Kotowari and have it remain a secret, but he couldn’t just carry it out. It was a bare blade that he’d no sign of a sheathe for, and it looked too different from Sōgyo no Kotowari to fool anyone who knew him. Perhaps he could find something in the archives above, like a length of cloth or something he could use it bind it to his back under his haori? It wouldn’t be foolproof, but it would be better than nothing—

As if reacting to his thoughts, the blade in his hand shimmered and faded, reforming as a small tantō.

“Thank you,” Jyuushiro made sure to say to the blade, before he carefully tucked it through his obi at the small of his back. It wasn’t exactly the safest of places — the blade still didn’t have a sheathe of any sort — but so long as he was careful it shouldn’t draw much attention.

(Hopefully.)

(He could do this.)

(He would.)

(There was no other option.)