He spent a sleepless night.
After tossing and turning until past two in the morning, Shiraishi finally grew accustomed to the hard floor and fell asleep, snoring softly.
Bang.
The sliding door was flung open, and a clear voice urged him, "Get up and eat."
"Mmm," Shiraishi mumbled. He instinctively rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around the bedding, curling up to continue sleeping.
Kūkaku Shiba's short temper wouldn't let that slide. She marched over and kicked him in the butt, then crouched down and said, "Listen, in my house, you follow my rules. No sleeping in. Get up for breakfast at seven sharp every morning!
"Do you understand?"
"Y-yes." Shiraishi was so stunned by the massive breasts looming close to him that he stammered.
"Louder!"
"Yes!"
He shouted at the top of his lungs, grumbling inwardly that imagination and reality really were different.
In his imagination, when a beautiful woman woke him, she would call softly in his ear, give him a gentle nudge and coax him awake in a sweet voice, not do it with such brisk efficiency.
There wasn't a trace of warmth. It was like military training.
"Good. Now get up!" Kūkaku Shiba stood, a smile appearing on her face. "Let's eat."
"Okay."
Shiraishi agreed, but he didn't move quickly. He slowly climbed off the floor and followed her, bent at the waist.
He left the room and followed the corridor to the room by the stairs, but he still couldn't straighten up.
Following behind her only made him burn hotter.
The peach shape beneath her beige skirt swayed back and forth, her bare back and the occasional glimpse of sideboob all stimulating a man's nerves.
Fortunately, he wouldn't have to worry once they were inside.
He hurriedly sat cross-legged in his place and straightened his back. On the low table was a fried egg, a fried fish, a bowl of miso soup and a bowl of rice-a fairly substantial meal.
"If that's not enough, the rice is over there. Help yourself."
Kūkaku Shiba pointed at the rice tub, then walked to the head of the table and sat cross-legged on a cushion. She pressed her palms together. "Let's eat."
"Let's eat," Shiraishi echoed. He picked up his miso soup and took a sip first. It had a slightly salty taste of the sea.
He picked up a piece of fish. Its spicy flavor was good. "This fish is delicious."
"Don't talk while you're eating."
Kūkaku Shiba reprimanded him, then ate quickly, as if afraid someone would snatch her food away.
Was this military training?
Shiraishi swallowed the question and sped up.
Before long, the food was gone, and Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko began clearing away the dishes and chopsticks.
Kūkaku Shiba braced her hands behind her and stretched her waist. Her short red top barely contained her, and the two huge bowling balls seemed ready to embrace freedom. "Shiraishi, do you have anything to do tonight?"
"No."
"Then come to my big brother's funeral. You won't find it dull. The Shiba Clan believes in celebrating funerals. On the day of a funeral, we never shed a single tear. We see our family off with joy."
At that point, Kūkaku Shiba asked, "Do you know why?"
Shiraishi shook his head. "I don't."
"The Shiba Clan's ancestral teaching is that everyone fights for their convictions to the very end. Seeing them off with tears of grief and reluctance would be an insult to them."
Kūkaku Shiba explained the reason for her family's tradition and raised her head. "But sometimes I wish my big brother could have been a little more flexible, not so stubborn. Ah, sorry, I shouldn't be talking about such boring things.
"Ganju, you crybaby, if you dare shed a single tear today, I'll beat you up."
"Sniff." Ganju sniffled hard, his eyes red-rimmed, but his gaze was resolute. "Big sis, I won't cry!"
"Good. That's what a man of the Shiba Clan should be."
Kūkaku Shiba praised him, then stood. "Let's go for a walk."
"Okay." Shiraishi was happy to accompany a beautiful woman on a walk.
Aboveground, the sun was shining brightly, and the sky was blue. Large white clouds drifted lazily past now and then.
"Follow me."
Kūkaku Shiba clearly had a purpose in mind. She led him around the back of the house and pointed at a crank. "Sorry for the trouble, but could you turn this for me?"
"Watch me." Shiraishi rolled up his sleeves, grabbed both sides and began turning it.
Rumble. The ground roared, a circle split open in the grass, and the two sides retracted as the Kūkaku Cannon rose.
It rose all the way to the top, the hundred-meter-tall cannon fully exposed. No one would mistake it for a chimney now.
Kaien's coffin rested in front of the gun platform.
Kūkaku Shiba slapped Shiraishi's arm and smiled. "You really are strong."
"No big deal."
Shiraishi shrugged and asked a question he already knew the answer to. "What is this thing?"
"The Kūkaku Cannon."
Kūkaku Shiba slapped the cannon's pitch-black surface, her face full of pride. "I'm one of the finest fireworks masters in Rukongai."
"You want to set off fireworks at the funeral?"
"Half right. I'm also going to use my big brother's ashes as a cannonball and fire them high into the sky in one shot. Along with the brilliant fireworks, they'll drift on the wind across all of Soul Society. Isn't that romantic?"
A trace of reminiscence appeared on Kūkaku Shiba's face. "That was a promise between my big brother and me."
"...Is it possible he just said it without thinking?"
Shiraishi had never attended anyone else's funeral, but he had seen plenty in television dramas and movies. The ideas that shaped people's thinking also told him:
The dead should be laid to rest in the earth.
In some places, even cremation was considered unfilial, let alone scattering ashes.
Bang. Without the slightest hesitation, Kūkaku Shiba punched him in the forehead and snapped, "Is that the kind of thing you say without thinking? You idiot!"
"Sorry, I was wrong."
Shiraishi rubbed his forehead, feeling that he had spoken too carelessly.
He was her big brother. If she wanted to cremate him and scatter his ashes, that was her choice.
It wasn't an outsider's place to object.
"Forget it. As long as you're willing to admit you were wrong."
Kūkaku Shiba was broad-minded and didn't hold grudges. She turned her gaze to the Kūkaku Cannon and murmured, "It's time to make some preparations."
Using the Kūkaku Cannon was a troublesome process, and the site had to be prepared in advance.
A shimenawa was tied around the barrel, and the other end of the rope was planted straight into the ground.
A large brush was brought out to paint the Shiba Clan's crest, the Falling Heaven Collapsing Vortex Crest, on the pitch-black barrel.
Everything was ready. They only had to wait for the first ray of moonlight to fall from the sky, and it would be time to fire the Kūkaku Cannon.
"Ahem." Suddenly, a soft cough rang out.
!
Shiraishi's pupils widened, and his hand instinctively gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist before relaxing.
The other person definitely wasn't within three paces.
Within that range, which his blade could reach, no one could escape his spiritual perception. Beyond it, it depended on whether he was actively sensing.
If he wasn't actively sensing, he was comparatively slow to detect the flow of Reishi beyond three paces.
When he was active, his precise range was three kilometers, and he could pick up the movements of anyone who entered it.
"Ahem." After two more coughs, the man folded up a handkerchief stained scarlet. "Sorry I'm late."
"Jūshirō Ukitake."
Kūkaku Shiba spoke the name, violent killing intent nearly bursting from her chest. "You bastard."