Shrine of the Gotei 13

"Memorial":

For any member of the Gotei 13, death was a constant companion in their lives in their lives as the shinigami of the living world. They grappled with its forms and released the exorcised soul into the stream of life. Anyone who picked up a zanpakuto, passed through the walls of the Academy, or joined their cause through other routes knew that there were perils to their duty. Although it was rarer in the higher ranks, sometimes death came for the Gotei, too. By the far the worst causes were when the Hollows they battled to free were more intelligent, and Sousuke Aizen had only made such instances worse. Before the appearance of the Espada, the devious attacks of his creations wrecked havoc on the Gotei’s exploration and guard squads. Metastacia took out the entire squad of 13th Division’s 3rd seat Miyako Shiba and putting it down cost the Gotei the life of the genius Lieutenant Kaien Shiba himself. Before that, more lives were lost in a Hollow investigation in Division 10, which mysterious events of Aizen’s led to the disappearance of Isshin Shiba, later recognized as Isshin Kurosaki. For reasons largely unknown, he had to abandon his post, leaving the Gotei to promote Toshiro Hitsugaya, history’s youngest captain. Setting the souls of the dead free and continuing the cycle of rebirth came with a price.

However, this past war with Sousuke Aizen had cost them the most so far. It was rare that the Gotei suffered the loss of multiple officers, lieutenants, and even a captain all within a mere decade, rarer still to lose them all at once (but for one bright lieutenant). And this time, there was no one to halt the flow of death for them — as there had been when Vale Tervaden had unleashed flaming hell on them years beforehand. The tragedy of Aizen’s (and Vale’s) conquering of the soul realm had spared no titles, ranks, or locations. They had all suffered. It had been a complete defeat.

A shrine for the dead shinigami had been erected since the time of the Great Quincy War and had been expanded upon after the Second Quincy War. After the Gotei had returned to Soul Society, after accepting their return as real, one of the commander’s first orders of business had been to renovate it yet again. It had taken time to find the right materials and expertise for the scale of the project in such a trying period, but the order had been completed recently.

The grounds remained largely unchanged. A stone garden with vegetation and miniature trees were fed by streams, surrounded in a small forest of some of the tallest conifers and bamboo in all of Seireitei. Before the shrine itself, in a small enclosure by itself, a polished bell on a pulley waited. There were buildings for the caretakers as well as the paraphernalia of grieving parties but the main building stood above the rest. The shrine’s hall had been turned into a building the size of a large dojo with rafters tall enough to allow even Captain Komamura to stand tall inside and was flanked on each side with several giant pillars in the ground. The hall’s great windows could close with special blinds to block the sun when desired. At the end of the hall stood a general memorial of the dead, complete with offerings of flowers and incense platforms, for remembering and expressing gratitude, since the beginning of the Gotei’s creation.

Since its completion and until the end of the year, the space would be filled, and today the hall would open. Numerous tables were covered in elegant shrines or makeshift piles of memorabilia collected from the deceased relations, be they family or friends. Some had a picture or a painting to complete the noble ensembles. Some had food or short poems to commemorate others. All were surrounded by a riot of fresh flowers and set with incense trays. Unless those close family and friends wished to put it up sooner, for a whole year, these testimonials could remain as a comfort for the living who had to let them go.

During the next month, the hall would provide services for those in attendance, and for a whole week, the Gotei’s captains would set aside the realm and attend. In between the tables of the dead, more tables were set with food and drink for anyone who passed through. Long red ribbons were provided to write notes upon and tie in the rafters. Finally, at the top by the immortal memorial of old, another table stood with over a dozen small boxes, each with a name, one for each of the divisions of the Gotei, as well as for the Rukongai and the Noble’s Quarter. There, too, people could inscribe messages, not to the dead but to the living. They would be returned to their rightful places at the end of the month where their caretakers would decide their fate. The ceremony that the commander had designed, with various input especially from his best friend who needed to ground himself, wasn’t completely set in tradition. He could only hope it was enough to start to forge a new future.