Does ... does Kensei know about Mashiro's sister? Is he aware of her existence? Because seriously the headaches - oh GOD the headaches - my man will need some aspirin ...
I know you didn't specifically ask for a fic but I had a blast imagining this. Poor Kensei... đ
Characters: Kensei Muguruma, Mashiro Kuna, Shuhei Hisagi, Niko Kuna (mentioned)
Contents: not strictly x reader, sfw
It was such an innocuous comment that shattered Kensei Muguruma's sense of reality, and it wasn't even aimed at him. He'd been minding his own damn business, leafing through a draft for next year's budget proposals. This wasn't the kind of thing he could leave Hisagi to do on his own. It would dictate how much funding the Ninth Division and the Seireitei Communication received next year. His fukutaicho were jabbering in the background, but he was tuning them out, untilâ
"Jeez, you complain even more than my sister," Mashiro complained.
She was sprawled out across a couch she'd had brought in at some point. Kensei didn't even remember when. Her orange go-go boots dangled over the arm. She had a bag of some seaweed snack tucked into the crook of her arm, and was steadily spraying crumbs everywhere as she pointed a finger at Hisagi, accusing.
"Who's the Super Lieutenant?" she asked, before jabbing a finger at herself. "Me! That means you work and I supervise. Duh!"
"We're coÂÂ-lieutenants," Hisagi reminded her, for what felt like the thousandth time. "That means we divide the responsibilities equally."
"Yeah, I'm taking supervising duty, and you're doing paperwork duty," Mashiro scoffed, as if that should be obvious. She took a bite of seaweed chip, pleased with her argument.
Hisagi sighed and gave up. It wasn't worth the headache. Truthfully, she'd cause less trouble if she thought she was in charge, anyway. Mashiro would get bored of "supervising" him in a little under an hour and either fall asleep or go find someone else to bother.
At a slight remove from this familiar workplace drama, Kensei Muguruma had gone very, very still. The pen he'd been using to scratch down notes on the budget draft had fallen from his nerveless fingers and lay abandoned, dripping a little tear of ink. Forgotten.
Kensei's gaze was fixed upon the tuft of lime green hair he could see sticking up over the back of the couch. A whole herd of Hollows could have crashed in right then and he wouldn't have noticed.
Hisagi flinched, turning to look at his superior. Muguruma-taicho couldn't have looked more shocked if someone had whacked him over the back of the head with a plank of wood. Mashiro's head popped up over the couch to frown at him.
"Yeah?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Like a brother but a girl. Jeez, Kensei, you're so dumbâŚ"
"THERE ARE TWO OF YOU?!" Kensei demanded.
Veins stood out in his neck, his reiatsu spiking until every shinigami in a mile radius was was rubbing their arms and looking over their shoulders for the danger. He shot to his feet, sending his chair toppling backward.
It couldn't be true. There couldn't be two of those infuriating brats in the world. It went against everything he'd ever heard about the balance between the three realms. It would be like having two Soul Kings or something. Mashiro was an absolute. There couldn't be anyone else as annoying as her in the rest of the universe.
Hisagi looked between his internally-detonating taicho and Mashiro, confusion and alarm warring within him.
Mashiro laughed, flopping back.
"Kensei, you're such an idiot," she sighed, stuffing another chip in her mouth and talking through the crumbs. "There's no one like me! Niko's just a little nerd."
Hisagi chipped in, a little more helpfully. "Uh, she's right, sir. Niko Kuna works for the Twelfth Division in the Shinigami Research and Development Institute, with Akon. She's quite different to Kuna-san."
Kensei's fists met the top of the desk, making his pen pot rattle. He braced himself on his fists, slowly leaning down, his face obscured. He seemed to be breathing hard, like he'd run a marathon. His voice came out low and strianed.
"Why didn't you say anything, you damn brat? I've known you how many centuries?"
If he'd had some warning, he might not have had a miniature heart attack just now. He'd been picturing a second, smaller Mashiro, like a green-haired version of that little hellion Kenpachi kept around like a pet.
"Why would I tell you that?" Mashiro scoffed. "It's not like it's that important. She and I don't hang out much. Stay outta my business. You're such a nosy jerk, Kensei!"
Kensei straightened up slowly, like he was in physical pain. He dragged a large hand over his face, wiping the cold sweat from his face.
"Hisagi, finish the budget report," he said, hoarse. "I'mâŚI'm going for a drink."
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