Daven walked into his office. He contemplated the time he had spent away from this place and then looked at the pile of scrolls waiting his attention.
He walked over to his desk and sat down. He looked at the various titles on the scrolls, and realized that most of them should have been handled in his absence.
"Why the hell do I have a Vice Captain if the business of the Squad can't go on in my absence?"
Then he saw the pile that was slightly separated from the others, and realized that they were Geotei 13 business. Business that apparently stood still while he was meditating. It never seemed to have stopped so completely before.
This highlighted just how many different duties he had. And all those duties were now hitting each other and conflicting to an extreme, preventing all his duties from being finished.
He shoved all the scrolls onto the floor in frustration. He watched the rice paper flutter as he did and it brought him no peace.
A maid opened up the shoji door a bit, peeked in to see what was wrong, and silently slid the door closed as she saw the paper scattered. She knew that meant that Daven was mad and that it would be best to stay out of his face.
Daven sat and brooded for a while.
He gestured and one of the air elementals swirled around and sucked all the fallen paper up into a vortex. He then had a salamander suck all the paper down into a ring of fire, incinerating them.
"That's how to take care of it. Just get rid of it. If the problems don't disappear now, then they are more serious than I think."
He thought a bit more. The only conclusion he could come to is that the Sereitei had become intolerable to him. It was trapping him here, without chance for him to expand his powers, few friends and absolutely no equals or peers. He was lonely, and with Onalim leaving, now he was even more so.
He took off his mask and threw it across the room. It was killing him to stay here. It would be better if he could die gloriously fighting for a cause, but the cause of the Sereitei was absent. Saving souls, killing hollows didn't seem that important anymore.
He was tired. Very tired of the whole sham.
Perhaps if he provoked Las Noches, he could give his life for a cause.
He sat at the desk and wrote out a long letter. It hurt him to do so, but it was necessary since the Central 46 didn't seem to care anymore. There had to be someone to take power should something happen.
He sealed it with his personal seal, closed it even further with a bit of kitsune magic to make it invisible unless he died or stopped the spell, and then wrote upon the face with
"To be opened upon the occasion of Commander-General Daven Moto's death".
He laid it on his desk in plain sight, so that when the spell disappeared it would be easily found.
He walked over to the tapestry that was his prized possession and studied it as he always did when troubled.
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