The aftermath of Soi Fin and Omaeda's fling

It was a usual day in the Second Division Headquarters in Soul Society. The atmosphere was calm and serene, as the sun its harsh rays of light through the windows, illuminating the polished wooden floors and elegant tapestries that adorned the walls. The spacious and well-organized headquarters reflected the disciplined nature of the Second Division, with rows of neatly arranged desks and shelves filled with scrolls and documents.

The silence of the uneventful day was interrupted by the sound of two voices emanating from a secluded room within the headquarters. It was here that Soi Fon, the stern and focused captain of the Second Division, found herself engaged in an intriguing conversation with her lieutenant, Marechiyo Omaeda.

Soi Fon stood in the center of her office room, her posture rigid and unwavering. Her Shinigami uniform, with the captain haori adorned with the kanji ‘two’ symbolizing her position as second division captain, clung to her petite frame, accentuating her air of authority. Her hair was tightly pulled back her signature double braids, revealing her sharp features and piercing, almond-shaped eyes. Soi Fon had her back turned to her lieutenant, it was clear that she was refusing to acknowledge Omaeda’s presence near her.

Behind her, however, Omaeda was quite different. He shifted nervously in place, his expression a mixture of desperation and exasperation. His disheveled uniform hung loosely on his frame, the fabric wrinkled and untidy. His unkempt hair framed a round face that bore a constant look of concern, accentuated by his furrowed brows and pleading eyes. He was in the middle of his attempts to catch Soi Fon's attention, leaning slightly forward as he gestured animatedly with his hands, hoping to break through her stoic facade.

Although, it was clear that Soi Fon was deliberately refusing to acknowledge him.

“Captain,” Omaeda called.

“Shut up,” came Soi Fon’s curt, harsh response. Omaeda was taken aback for a few seconds, but he decided to try again.

“Captain Soi Fon.”

“Silence.”

“Captain!”

“I said shut up!” Soi Fon flared, this time letting her fist fly to a flower vase that was on the table not too far from her. The poor vase took on the extent of her rage, and hit the floor with a thundering crash, spilling water and scattering the flowers inside all over the place.

“Do you not understand when I told you to shut up, or should I knock it into you?” Soi Fon spoke through clenched teeth, her eyes glared at poor lieutenant Omaeda, who was shivering before her wrath. “Never. ever. talk. about. that. incident. again,” she said it word per word, as if to make it incredibly clear to Omaeda – but the thick-headed lieutenant, who didn’t seem like he could take any hints, instead provoked her rage even more.

“You mean about that threeso –“ he couldn’t finish his words, for suddenly Soi Fon had unleashed her zanpakutou, Suzumebachi, and Omaeda abruptly found the tip of the golden zanpauto just a mere inch away before him, ready to stab him between his eyes.

“Would you rather die here, Omaeda?” Soi Fon asked, her voice cold and unwavering. “I can finish you here with three strikes of Suzumebachi, and write off your **** as… accident.”

Omaeda felt cold waves gripping him, his heart sunk. “N-no, Captain,” he quickly said. Now he understood what Soi Fon meant, and just how much she didn’t want to talk about the wild sex she had that time with him and Yoruichi.

Too bad, for Omaeda had wanted to ensure it wasn’t just some kind of wild fever dream of his.

“Good,” said Soi Fon, putting her Suzumebachi away. “Next time I won’t be so merciful toward you. You’d be dead before you can even finish your sentence.”

“I understand,” Omaeda gulped. “Captain.”

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, disrupting the rhythm of their discussion. Soi Fon's voice carried a tinge of authority as she commanded the visitor to enter. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing Mayuri Kurotsuchi standing in the frame, his presence immediately commanding attention. Soi Fon's eyes briefly narrowed as she observed the arrival of her fellow captain, his presence signaling that their conversation was about to take an unexpected turn. She maintained her composed demeanor, a mask of stoicism hiding any hint of surprise or curiosity. Mayuri, on the other hand, approached with a calculated gait, his steps measured and purposeful.

Mayuri's gaze shifted momentarily from Soi Fon to her lieutenant, Marechiyo Omaeda. When the Twelfth Division captain finally spoke, his voice was as slithery as ever.

"Omaeda, I have received an urgent message from Tetsuzaimon," Mayuri stated, mentioning the lieutenant of the seventh division. His voice devoid of any hint of emotion. "He requires your presence immediately to discuss the details of your upcoming mission to the human world."

Omaeda's brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to comprehend the sudden request for meeting. They had talked about their mission beforehand, and it was unusual for Tetsuzaimon to change anything urgent enough until he had to request a joint meeting. Omaeda felt rather intrigued. Regardless, he had **** but to obey the Twelfth Division Captain’s words.

"Understood, Captain Mayuri," Omaeda replied. "I shall attend to his request immediately."

With a nod, Omaeda turned on his heels and exited the room, leaving Soi Fon and Mayuri alone. Soi Fon watched as her lieutenant left, her expression unreadable, while Mayuri's eyes followed Omaeda's retreating figure, a calculating glint dancing within their depths. As Omaeda left the room, his thoughts filled with questions regarding his new assignment, Mayuri directed his focus toward Soi Fon. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation as the two captains stood face to face, the weight of their respective reputations casting a palpable tension in the room. Mayuri's cold, calculating gaze bore into Soi Fon, his eyes filled with an unsettling mix of curiosity and intrigue.

“Captain Mayuri, for what do I own the displeasure for?” Soi Fon said with a distrusting tone.