Peroxide Filler Events - EphemeralBoundToEros - Peroxide (2024)

Chapter 1: The Peroxide Filler Events

Chapter Text

Hope you enjoy. To anyone reading this who isn't currently an owner of these characters, you'll be lost to the EXTREMES. So don't get your head too wrapped around this if you're unfamiliar with us.

Chapter 2: Sleeping, Snoozing Starrk

Chapter Text

Yet again, the Primera Espada was using council meetings as a time to catch up on naptime.

“Tch. Is he some sort of child or what.” The Sexta Espada, Iazkari Jaegerjaquez expressed his discontentment blatantly from the left side of the table, eyes narrowing at the figure who had his head slumped over on the stone table. His auburn hair was untied, falling in messy strands around his shoulders, and he was wearing his white hakama like a blanket over his back. He sat hunched over on a metal chair, breaths barely audible. Fortunately for all of the Espada present; he was not a snorer. At least not right now.

“Wheeeew. When that little Quincy gal’ squeaked about him being an oldie too, I could hardly believe my ears. Sleeps like a guy on his deathbed.” A curly haired Arrancar spoke up from the right side, turquoise pig-tails swung back and forth as she spun herself in a rotating chair, pushing off the table with one foot. She spun herself around a few more times before stamping one boot into the hard cold floor, stopping the movement of the chair. “Not that I got anything against the guy-- But he’s forcing his damn duties on me to lead every meeting.”

Cellili Starrk; the substitute Primera Espada for when Yrrad was absent. At this point however, it seemed like Cellili was working full time due to Yrrads immeasurable amount of absences. Cellili gave a groan, her overgrown bangs hiding what emotion she could express with her eyes. She leaned back in her chair, rocking back and forth dangerously, but never fell.

“Why do we even have to hold these pointless conversations anyways?! I ain’t got my nose in this business, hell, I’d rather gnaw off my nails than endure this sh*t. Even Yrrad’s so bored to the point of slumber.”

Thats where another Arrancar interjected; the Septimo Espada.

“Uuh- Uhm. Well, now that we’ve-- now that we’ve formed an alliance with the other factions…”

A small feathery voice quivered, and Iazkaris gaze snapped itself over to a black haired female Arrancar, who sat with her hands folded together tightly on her lap. Her voice was muffled behind a hollow mask, covering all of her face.

“It’s mandatory that we update each other on new rules, regulations, due to our affiliations.. To inform- to inform them. To inform each other--”

“Alright, alright! You’re stuttering so much its more of an earful than those stupid obligations.” Iazkari scoffed, eager to prevent a lecture that’d force him to remain seated in a chair for more than a few minutes. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, flexing his fingers every now and then. (cat. Biscuits. Cat. yk.)

The Seventh Espada didn’t react kindly to his insult towards her manner of speech. Instantly a switch flipped and the timid Arrancar shot up from her seat and gripped the table with a grating sound of nails against polished stone, fingers carving indents into where they touched it. A flare of reiatsu could be felt miles off from Las Nochas. A chilling hiss resounded from the confines of the bone mask, and Cellili’s eyes darted from Iazkari to the lower-ranking Espada, an exasperated sigh escaping her mouth.

How she wished she could sleep as deeply as Yrrad could. Sometimes she’d wonder how he pulled off that feat.

The Sixth Espada instantly responded to the challenge, sneering as he too, heaved himself off the chair and knocked it back with a kick that sent it crashing into the black wall behind him. His deadpan expression instantly transformed into a savage grin with sharp teeth, eyes shining with the lust for battle, hands drawn at his side. He jumped up and down on the spot, a light bounce in his step as he prepared to engage with the Espada across from him.

“Now, come on, attack me. Don’t get cold--” Iazkari had begun to taunt the black haired Arrancar, who had leapt up on the table and crouched down into a low stalking position, hands and feet on the same level; and in the same breathe, Iazkari had collided with a metal door.

Or rather, the metal door collided with him, as it was blown off its hinges and sent flying to brutally slam into the Sexta Espada-- who ended up in a flattened position on the ground on his back, groaning at the impact, his skull clearly rattled (and bleeding). With a creak, followed by a crunch and the thud of an object ramming against the other intact door, and finally a large and loud crash-- it fell down onto the floor of the meeting hall.

The silhouette of the person entering was illuminated by the dim yellow fluorescent lights outside the dark hall, and only when they entered the room, their face was registered by Cellili, followed by the gawking black-haired Arrancar, who had paused to find a previous opponent sprawled across the floor, disabled by the surprise “attack.”

“You’re late, Tres Espada, Ellaine Harribel.” Cellili tutted, although her upturned grin showed hints of amusem*nt at the entrance that had comically interrupted the conflict. She gestured to the silver-haired Arrancar to grab a seat somewhere.

“I’d thought that since Yrrad was asleep we’d start the meeting later? Didn’t we agree on that prior?” Ellaine questioned, before tentatively stepping towards the table, plopping herself down on a chair beside Iazkari’s usual spot. Iazkari, however, had not yet returned to his seat. He was still lying limply on the floor, having realized his jaw had been dislocated, and his head spinning from the blow of the door. He let out a feeble attempt at speaking, his words becoming gargled and incoherent, the hollow mask on the side of his face contorting in pain. If Iazkari could speak in that moment (and fortunately he was not able to), he would let out a spitfire of vulgarities to hide his lack of dignity and loss of pride; due to being knocked over by the force of a door being kicked down. His fingers cracked, the bones resetting into their original spot, and once accomplished with both hands, gripped his jaw and forced it back in place.

The temporarily pitiful Espada rose up onto his knees, pushing himself up and off the cold floor; and gave a warningly low snarl.

“Ah, Kari-kun, you’re all fixed up now.” Ellaine clapped her hands a few times, grinning as though she hadn’t caused any form of commotion whatsoever. Which was true in the case of Cellili, who was bored to death and didn’t mind at all. At the lack of change in Iazkari’s wrathful face, eyes blazing with contempt, Ellaine could only laugh sheepishly.

“Sorry Iazkari, force of habit, I suppose.” The Tres Espada folded her hands together in a begging position, but that only served to anger the Sexta Espada further. A vein popped out on his forehead.

“ Force, of habit? You tellin’ me that you interrupted the one battle I’d wanted for ages. Out. Of. Habit?! You mock me!” Iazkari roared at his mentor, grinding and baring his teeth, a hand reaching behind his back to draw his katana. Not only did he suffer a blow from an inanimate object, but his pride as a warrior had been wounded, which was enough to cause him to snap. He ripped it from it’s sheathe, the Zanpakuto weapon glinting silver rays in the dim light of the room. Ellaine, although his teacher and stronger, knew that he’d only be injured further if she deny him a fight. Then again, rage was the source of his existence; the form of death he ruled over. So, she’d decided to provoke him instead; as a means to draw out more power from him. Once a mentor; always a mentor.

“I don’t wish to mock you, Iazkari. However, I also don’t wish to fight you.” Ellaine seemed to relax in spite of Iazkari’s initiation of battle; his blood boiled. She tore her eyes away from his, and then turned her back to him. “I apologize I interrupted.” Ellaine looked over to the black-haired Arrancar, who had settled into her seat, tensely gripping her hands.

Then, a faint gasp came from the masked Arrancar; and although her eyes weren’t visible to Ellaine, she guessed exactly what caused her such a reaction.

In a mere split second, Iazkari had swung his katana in a horizontal arc, slashing wildly with equal precision and accuracy at Ellaine’s head--

The blade never reached her, as she ducked. She felt air swoosh just above, long-kept instincts tingling, and promptly ducked again to the left as Iazkari’s katana sliced through nothing.

“I admire your persistence, Iazk-”

“SHUT UP! MANGLE, PANTERA!!”

The enraged Sexta Espada released his second state, gutting one palm with his katana, and shouted its incantation. His reiatsu burst forth, a heavy pressure weighing down on all within the room. He roared, and with one hand, drew his greataxe and swung it down violently. It barely missed the Tres Espada, and planted itself into the concrete floor, a large crack forming, and splintering it into deep crevices.

It was ear-splitting, the sound of an axe repeatedly crashing against the structures of the room, failing to meet flesh.

Rage continued to fester within Iazkari, the evasion of his attacks on part of Ellaine who had no intentions of entertaining him. He charged towards her, as she touched the ground--

“ I’m just trying to get some shut-eye, yet I can’t even do THAT.”

Iazkari was forced to his knees, as though the mountainous rock formations of Hueco Mundo had been set onto his shoulders; subjected to the increase in gravity and pressure of the Primeras spiritual presence. The Sexta Espada could only muster up a few strangled breaths, suffocating under the strain his body was in, struggling to exist in the same time and space as spiritual pressure continued weighing down on him.

Sweat dripped down his brow, a primal type of fear awakening inside him, violently scraping at the walls of his chest, manifesting as muffled pants.

“Damn.. You..” Iazkari gasped out, indigo eyes blazing up at the Primera Espada, who had risen from his seat, and stood across from him. Eyes concealed by his hollow’s mask, Yrrad’s expression was nearly unreadable as he stepped towards the trembling Arrancar; if it weren’t for his mouth pressed into a sickening smile.

He exhaled a slow breath, as though attempting to wake himself from sleep. Iazkari could feel himself shivering, pitifully. He mustered what strength he could under the fluctuations of pressure, and turned his head to look over at his mentor--

Who was standing without so much of an expression of pain on her face. Only annoyance and discomfort.

Her arms were crossed, one finger tapping on the other arm. After a while, she sighed.

“Look, I think we c-” Ellaine started, but was silenced by another wave of spiritual pressure, its intensity increasing. At this, she grimaced, but remained standing, even taking a step towards the clearly aggravated Yrrad.

“ I’ve been patient enough. Shut it.” The Primera Espada had pointed a single firearm at Ellaine, having activated his resurreccion without the incantation.

“ Do you really think I’m so unproductive to the point of sloth? I sleep so much for a reason, and even if there is a lack thereof, I don’t recall asking for disturbances.” Beneath the lupine shaped hollow mask reflected eyes that were darkened, filled with exhaustion.

Celili sat in her seat as though she felt nothing; for her it was close to nothing. But whistled at the temper of the Primera Espada. The Septimo Espada however, was pressed close to the floor, supporting herself barely with hands that grappled for security, and seemed to be losing consciousness. She collapsed, after mere minutes of struggle. Helplessness was the last thing an Arrancar would want to experience, and unfortunately it was all that Iazkari and the Septimo Espada were feeling.

“Oiya, Staarkk-saan, I think we get it, yea?-”

The second Primera Espada cut off immediately, as she felt something drop onto the floor beside her seat.

She looked down, to find a dismembered forearm with blood pooling around the limb. Pain instantly seared through the stump, and she muffled a gasp and raised her eyes to see Yrrad with his right hand holding a reishi replicated-shotgun. One would’ve expected any normal person to faint or scream out of shock or pain; But Cellili, who was in fact, not any normal person, gave a wry look to the bloodied stump as though it was a minor inconvenience.

“I disagree. I assigned you as my substitute for a reason. I’ve warned you--.The more you neglect your duties to fill in for me, the more work for the both of us. This is not the first time.” His tone was flat and cold. He let the firearm dissipate into the air, flicking out his wrist tiredly as though it were stiff. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and turned toward the uncharacteristically quiet Ellaine as Celili muttered something intelligible, supposedly complaining once more.

“As for you, I just had maintenance finished. Break anything again within the confines of Las Nochas, and I’ll tear your hollow mask from your head.”

Ellaine could only nod, internally quaking at the thought. Not just that, but it was the sheer amount of pure contempt that Yrrad’s presence radiated; she’d never witnessed him pissed off, only irritable.

His grin was a hysteric kind, one that never graced his face before.

The Tres Espada found herself in dumbfounded submission, experiencing the full authority the Primera could wield over them whenever he pleased.

However, he didn’t do it so willy-nilly. In fact, with an “aha” moment, Ellaine realized that he never turned to doing this until now. Yes, they’d disturbed his sleep over a million times, and it wasn’t far from an exaggeration; yet Yrrad had only exerted his strength this single time. He could have done it every time.

It seemed that her pupil, the Sexta Espada, had also arrived at the same conclusion, and with gritted teeth, bowed his head as Yrrad de-condensed his focused spiritual energy off of Las Nochas.

The room was consumed with silence, along with haggard breaths from Iazkari and the Septimo Espada, who regained consciousness. They shakily rose to their feet, and Ellaine patted her student on the back with a hand that was then swatted away with a sharp slap, to which she retaliated and hit him on the back of his neck with the underside of her palm. He growled, and stepped away, rolling his shoulders back to restore some feeling that was lost during the duration of the lecture.

Once all had righted themselves, they avoided Yrrad’s gaze, a near human awkwardness overcoming them.

Iazkari and Ellaine glanced at each other, and scratched the back of their heads sheepishly. Celili cleared her throat, and helped the Septimo Espada place her mask back on her face, who was flushed red with embarrassment (despite being the only one in Yrrad’s eyes, who didn’t press his buttons and committed no wrongs against him).

“..You’re all dismissed. Just review the new terms yourselves.” The auburn haired Espada gruffly addressed all of them, with his voice back to its normal sleepy pitch. Before any of them opened their mouths to apologize, he sonido-ed out of the room, his reiatsu fading quickly.

Each of the Espada present could only feel a certain guilt and shame, as one by one they came to the same conclusion Ellaine had reached:

“ The Primera Espada, was actually nice, in his own way.”

“Aaah! Shucks, this sucks.” The Tres Espada grappled at her hair, ruffling it. “Guess we really screwed it up. The guy’s less oppressive than I thought he’d be.”

“Tch.” Iazkari spat, but had an unusual glint of apologeticness in his narrowed eyes.

“We.. Really should’ve been more considerate. It seemed we.. needed a reminder.” The Septimo Espada sulked, small voice trembling.

“Yeah. A reminder. Of his power that we shouldn’t f*ck around and find out about..” Celili grumbled, stretching out her previously missing forearm.

And, that you shouldn’t interrupt his slumber.

“Oi, Celili, ain’t you also a Primera? Why’d ya let him do that to you?”

“..Unmotivated to fight.”

“Hah!? You’re just like him!!”

“I just hope that she isn’t a complete copy of him.”

“Huh, why?”

“..The work will get dumped on us next.”

“..f*ck.”

-End Of Event-

Chapter 3: Small Dialogue Run: Masanuma’s Words Hurt!

Chapter Text

??: Hahaha! Ridiculous, lame! To think a man like you could have such a face is shameful!
M: You.. Have a face only a blind person could love!..
??: Huh? What’s that supposed to mean, you little punk?!
?? Kicks Masanuma back, and with a grunt, Masanuma rights himself up onto his knees, bruised face.>
M: You’re slow as well as you are ugly. You.. Wanna know why only a blind person could love you?
??: Shut the hell-
M: You have a rugged, textured face-- With open pores. A blind person would love to feel your face, sensories and all.
??: WHY YOU LITTLE-!

Chapter 4: Event: Katja’s Thoughts On Other Characters

Chapter Text

Thoughts on Ellaine Harribel..

“I’d first known her as the newly appointed Tres Espada of Hueco Mundo, taking after Tier Harribel whom I’d read about in old records of the Realms as Hueco’s ruler after a shinigami named Sosuke Aizen had fallen into the clutches of the Muken because of the sealing of his Hogyoku powers. She, Ellaine Harribel, is apparently younger than Yrrad, but of course, much older than I am. To elevate oneself so quickly through the ranks is a notable feat.”

“However, once we’d become friends.. I discovered her other personality. She has the closet of narnia within her gut, an endless space for food that empties rather quickly. She’s child-like, expressive with a sharp but honest tongue-- Never judging harshly unless there is a conflict in her line of morals. She is also tomboyish, a headstrong tenacity, with a warriors pride that resides in her soul when we crossed blades for the first time when we’d met.

..But sometimes I’m wracked with anxiety for the havoc she often causes.”

“She’s also terribly oblivious and clueless, and loud. Presumably due to her nature as a Ram-type hollow. Thick skulled, persistent. Did I mention her appetite? Every occasion she’s in the human world, she bolts over to me and I’m forced to pawn my debit card over to her so she can sustain herself for the day.”

“...I should’ve put a budget on the card. (bleep)-- Sorry. I underestimated her.”

“Yet, I admire her, especially one quality. She’s surprisingly gentle with children, and bears respect for people who do the same. Perhaps it’s her Harribel side.. I also notice that she’s awfully protective of her pupil, that Jaeguerjaquez boy. I’d even argue she’s fond of him, and it’s sometimes in the way she watches over him from afar-- An unusual warmth in yellow eyes. But of course, when brought up, she snaps at me, hiding her face by turning it away, and disagrees immediately. Like a young girl, her spirit is equally tenacious and quick to temper. Hesitant to love but when doing so, does it with ferocity, in her own tough way.”

“..I wonder. Does she really lack a heart?”

Thoughts on Masanuma Kuchiki

“I’ve only met with Kuchiki-san once or twice before. Ryosuke-sama had brought me to Soul Society to formally announce me as his student, and thats where I had encountered her. She was bubbly, bounding up to us both with a beaming grin as we exited the council hall. Her appearance reminded me of an idol-- the ones I used to fawn over in my old magazines. Her hair’s nice, and I found myself hiding a grin as she skipped around my teacher, inquiring his whereabouts before, and commenting on his disheveled appearance.

Ryosuke called her an “airheaded fool,” to which she, apparently a lieutenant, burst into tears. But that was all fun and games for her, and geared her mini interrogations towards me with limitless enthusiasm and excitement, shaking my hands and bowing and talking simultaneously. “

“She’s well versed in the fashions of the human world, and told me she was into street fashions within Tokyo, Tenshi Kawai, and Acubi. We’d conversed for hours before Ryosuke forcibly dragged her away to allow me to attend another meeting with the other captains.”

“Ryosuke-sama later told me about how she was biologically a boy-- to which I asked him the merit in informing me. He just shrugged, and asked if I was bothered by it. I am not, as all that matters is how you treat me and others.”

“I’d like to meet with Masanuma some other time.”

Thoughts On Ayabara Michibane

He’s my dearest childhood friend. An aloof individual to the end, but really I know he has a heart that could envelop the world if his chest did not restrain its size. As a child he was a clumsy, but earnest person.

The spirits of our neighborhood adored him. I did as well. He’s like a brother I never had, and he also claimed that if he had a sister, he’d want me to be one. I’d defend him with my life and I often did, and he would do the same, although a bit hesitant towards conflict.

You may call him a coward, but, a coward would have run from his responsibilities.

He did not stray from his objective of saving a life although the very choice threatened his own.

Once he has set his eyes on doing something, rest assured he will follow through with it.

I trust him with my life-- Haha, well, I wouldn’t actually, because thats too much of a burden.

But I mean it when I say that if it came up to it, he would have my back, and I would have his.

..Although I’m offended that he’d neglected to introduce me to his children. How dare he.

“Sorry, Katja-san! I’ve been so wrapped up in changing diapers and..-- YEOWCH?! HEY!?”

“You could’ve called me over to help! I’m your friend, did you forget me?”

She feigns heartbreak.

“Oi, don’t worry, I’ll invite you over soon.” He grumbled, rubbing the back of his throbbing skull.

“Your wife, Urumi had already done that.”

“What?! Oh..” Ayabara sulks, his head down, with a wearied grin.

“Hm. Perhaps we can lecture you together?” She crosses her arms.

“Please nooo.. The kids are already an earful.”

Thoughts on Iazkari Jaegerjaquez..

Ah, the Sexta Espada, and also Ellaine’s student. He’s quite the brazen persona, sharing Ellaine’s bluntness and battle ferocity. His temper is alarmingly more explosive than Ellaines, and it has an even shorter fuse.

He certainly lives up to his name as one who governs over the form of death called Rage.

Or is it destruction? I’m unable to tell.

When I’d first met him, he had appeared behind Ellaine. I met them both at the same time, actually.

Though, our encounter failed to tell me much about him, as Ellaine ordered him away.

Ellaine herself approached me first, and slowly introduced me to her pupil, once we settled our grudges.

Iazkari at first, begrudgingly accompanied me around Hueco. We were on a bit of an expedition, and so he was forced by Sophie and Ellaine to join in. He wouldn’t speak with me unless it was to make snide comments on my performance physically. I paid no heed to them, to which he’d move onto interrogating and taunting me.

He has an addiction to bloodshed, it seemed, by the way he fought and often prolonged fights.

I found that unsurprising.

Quite rude, unmannered and keeps to himself most of the time. He’s also thick-skulled, persistent, uncivilized and just as loud and bold.

However, he’s adaptive, and scarily so during battle.

What surprises me, is his lack of malice towards an otherwise playful duo of teachers, who are also both women. I don’t have any prejudice towards us ladies, but I judged wrong when thinking that he’d be of the misogynistic type. I sensed that he bore an ancient grudge against Ellaine, but never acted out on it.

Perhaps he’s waiting until hes strong enough to defy her.

He’s hesitant to obey them both, but does so anyways, without baring fangs or claws at them.

He respects them enough.

…If I were to describe him, he would be a moody cat in this scenario.

..Don’t tell him I said this, but.. I wonder, since his Ressureccion is supposedly based off of a predatory feline.. Would he have paw pads?

Thoughts On Sophie Haschwalth..

Sophie, hm? Yes, she’s a fellow Sternritter of mine, and I’d say I’m the closest to her out of the lot. As to how we met, I can remember it like it happened just yesterday. Exiting the inner sanction of Wandenreich, she came bounding towards me. I had to ask who she was, as she suddenly approached me and started asking me questions. I’d hardly find myself an individual who fails to notice the smaller things, but it seemed that I did slip up, considering that despite her presence every meeting, I was unaware of her identity.

I apologized for my ignorance, yet she explained that she seldom attended “boring, droning speeches and slow reforms while sitting in an uncomfortable chair.” Even if she were to attend, “You wouldn’t hear a peep out of me,” she’d stated. We conversed for a bit then, and I was eager to dispel any awkwardness.

Just as we bid goodbye, she leapt towards me once more and asked if we could be friends, with a charming grin on her face, eyes shining, pleading. I was dumbfounded, but something inside told me we’d get along.

Thus began a once one-sided friendship. Once, one-sided. I was hesitant at first, as I was used to making friendships gradually, slowly, while she on the other hand, had a large friend-group due to her charisma.

I was worried that I was a boring person, contrasting her ecstatic, electrified personality.

In fact, it took a weeks worth of convincing from Sophie; just to drop the formal honourifics I used when talking to her.

Even now, I find that the titles slip out, despite her groaning about it. When I discovered she was adopted by Jugram Haschwalth, a royal advisor to Yhwach and captain of the Sternritters who existed a few hundred years ago, I’d been shocked, and apologized once more in disbelief that she was of such high revere, and that I used no formalities.

She dismissed it, claiming that it’s useless between best friends to have such an uptight relationship.

A youthful spirit, she is.

As we grew closer, one would easily mistake and misjudge Sophie as a harmless, naive child, I realized. A simple-minded girl with great ambitions, an extroverted and warm demeanor.

One would only become acquainted with her truer, commanding and merciless side through experience.

She’s able to lead effortlessly, and in her own subordinates; lies unease and fear when she is provoked.

No, she isn’t so simple-minded. There is a cunning to her character, the way in which she will throw an opponent off a psychological balance, and her abrupt use of authority when all is in disorder. I wouldn’t call her friendliness a facade, because I knew that she wanted some connection. Underneath the many layers of an excitable, innocent and carefree guise, lies the wolf in a sheep's clothing.

But I don’t mind a wolf. I don’t mind the sheep. If they’re parts of Sophie, I’ll gladly call them friends.

There’s so much more to a person, than what hides underneath and what they choose to show.

She’s my darling friend, and I do hope she can say the same.

Thoughts On Friedrich Yhwach..

Oh? You know of him? He’s quite the concealed person, popping up every once in a while to say hello.

I see him less and less nowadays, however, the most I did see of him was when I was battling the ancient Automaton up in the mountains, to prove myself worthy of the power Vollstandig.

He would watch over me, sitting up on the snow-covered rocks that encompassed the laboratory that held the Automaton. Each time I would be transported out of the building due to my failures, dropped down onto the snow face first or on my back, I could feel his gaze on me, as I struggled up onto my knees and feet, and did so a thousand more for 3 weeks. Throughout those 3 weeks, he continued to watch me. The amount of time that it took me grew, and so did my irritability and my frustration, along with the sense that he pitied me-- I was led to snap violently towards him, urging him to take his leave. Through my embarrassment, I could only handle so much of it, and I felt remorse for what I did as he never showed up again. Months passed before we saw each other again, and I took the chance to apologize for what I had done. He accepted it, and I was guilty for doing something so childish, when he’d only had good intentions.

I don’t know much about him, to my disappointment. He’s a quiet individual. But I’d say that, he bears some respect for me, and the feeling is mutual.

Thoughts on Ulerich Kurosaki..

All I know is that he’s apparently some sort of cousin or distant sibling to Yanoll Kurosaki.

Thoughts on Yanoll Kurosaki..

I’m constantly concerned over that boy. It’s not that he’s one to cause trouble, yet I’m worried that others will for him. He has a delicate heart, yet so unwavering in his duties that force him to strive on as a soldier at such a young age. He’s only 4 years younger than me, but that boy has yet to fully mature, and I find my thoughts wandering off to inquire his condition. Having lost all familial connection and being denied the very security that should have nurtured him into a fine man-- yet he is strong enough to pull himself up.

It angers me so, that a mother would neglect her child. Even more so, that his siblings batted not an eye.

I was raised an only child. To think that another of your own would forsake you, is despicable.

…

I’ve kept a close eye on him, and I’m afraid that he finds my presence a nuisance. A stranger, showing care, is the least thing he’d expect. However, he accepted my occasional help despite his shyness, I sensed that he was vigilant of my intentions, reading deeply into my words and sometimes questioning me. I don’t blame him, considering his past, and of course, my hastiness to give him assistance.

Through guidance on my own part and others, he obtained his Vollstandig much quicker than I did; I couldn’t help but feel a sense of proudness, a near maternal kind. It alarmed me, but I was willing to accept that perhaps--

I saw him as the son I’d once wished for, in brighter days of love.

Thoughts On Ryosuke Aizen..

Where to even begin with this? I also have so many inquiries, a plethora of thoughts for him that remain unanswered since he’d deemed me strong enough to progress on my own-- and left as quickly as the wind, without notice. How characteristic of him, albeit it may seem disheartening, his words were always brief and I’d grown accustomed to it. Perhaps that trait of his rubbed off on me, though I never did have much to say in the first place.

I doubt I protested against his proclamation to take me on as his student, that rainy day as well.

..You’re asking me if I would’ve rejected him as my teacher?

I really did have no choice. My abilities as a Quincy were a feeble cry to my own predecessors, and being unable to produce my own kojaku due to my lack of proper education on it, would one day kill me if I was so weak.

Ryosuke-sama, knew that, and stated so bluntly to me, that the Ishida lineage would end here with me if I refused his instruction.

“Pitiful.”

And I loathed pity. I’d received enough of it, and decided that I wouldn’t take it from anyone else.

All but from him, to an extent.

He taught me how to properly sustain my kojaku, pointing out the errors in the concentration of my own reishi, saying that not only was my output exceeding my maximum, but it left me with little energy in me to keep my stamina in check; my flow to the outside was poor in form. Among his many teachings, he taught me how to fight, wield a weapon, to safely traverse the Garganta and through the Senkaimon, and gave me insight into many of the other Quincy abilities; All while being a Soul Reaper. I wonder if his comrades had anything to say about his decision. If anything, it’s praiseworthy, for him to defy the norms of the Shinigami--And I’d thanked him on numerous occasions-- only for him to say that it’s nothing worth mentioning, and he’s doing the minimum.

..I suppose he’s not used to being given credit. Or that he finds such gestures meaningless.

See, I lack sight when it comes to his background. All that he’s ever told me, was that he remembered his past life as a human during the feudal era of Japan (and that he was a general who killed thousands, and then a hundred before he perished), and that it helped him recall the handling of his sword, and rose to his position as a Captain. I recognized his last name, Aizen. Related to Sosuke Aizen, a notorious criminal that threatened the World Of The Living and beyond-- and Ryosuke-sama was apparently his grandfather.

There are hardly any photographs or images of how Sosuke Aizen looked like.. But Ryosuke, who bears those haunting eyes of sangria and silver; Sosuke Aizen might’ve inherited them as well. I wonder how old he truly is, most probably a few hundred years older than Sophie.

I don’t even think he told me anything more about himself. Seems he knows how to keep formalities strict, ha.

That near archaic man.. I cannot understand why he chose to take me on. Through vigorous, no, strenuous training and life and death encounters, as well as his constant threats of throwing me to Menos Forest, or even ending my life if I was so much as fussy and challenging about his methods..

Based on my knowledge of the feudal era, it wouldn’t be an understatement to say that his world and mindset had been forever implanted in his past life, unchanging, clinging to the notions of what hellish life he suffered.

A killer in one life, and a killer still in his afterlife. I believe that a person like him who experienced war and endless slaughter and contributed to bloodshed, would not break free of the cycle so easily.

“Fate, loves the soul that can love.”

“And fate loves the soul that lacks it.”

“Fate loves. The universe loves. It loves those who torments another.”

“In that false embrace, it will love to give back what one has done.”

“It loves to ruin all. Just as it loves to twine peoples lives together, in a charade of foolery.”

It’s a useless wish, to hope that one day fate would relinquish their hold on his soul and stop this torture.

It never stopped for me, yet I’ll continue wishing.

I bear no pity towards him. I respect this venerable teacher of mine. He was, in all aspects, one who didn’t sugar-coat anything for me. He didn’t insist that I rest for a day, didn’t pity me or hand things to me on some silver platter. Knew that beyond my exhaustion lied the will to change.

I’d thought that I’d learned to stand on my own; But I wasn’t even on my knees yet. It took me a while to swallow down what pride I had.

I am grateful to him, and as much as I’d like to say I’m indebted, Ryosuke-sama would scorn me for it, shake his head and say that there’s really not much I can do, to my offense.

I am far from the place in which he stands. Even with my newfound strength, he remains in a place that so far, I am unable to touch with my hands, or blade. Which vexes me even more, yet spurs me to keep trying.

..Although I wish to do so within my current lifespan. Within the next year or so. I don’t want him holding it over my head that it took me all of my years to reach him.

I just hope that red but gray-haired bastard lives long enough. He might keel over all the same. I wish to triumph over him, and then I can truly say that I’ve become strong.

Because to me, Ryosuke Aizen, is the one I deem the strongest. If you hold back, spout words of pity, I’ll kill you, old-timer.

Chapter 5: Event: First Word Of Gratitude.

Chapter Text

POV: Katja Ishida

Note (more for me): For A Quincy or any human to enter Soul Society, their physical bodies, made of “kishi” have to be converted into “reishi.” Reishi is soul matter, spirit matter, while kishi is physical matter. Kishi has a “soul” within the matter, but Reishi is “Soul matter,” therefore everything in Soul Society is in its Soul Form.

To maintain her regular appearance, Katja had become something akin to a “Konpaku,” converting her Kishi into Reishi. (I need to reread bleach for the 3rd time)

Of Light And Dark

“Ishida-sama, please be careful.” A voice spoke from behind me, footsteps treading on polished wood.

I turned my head back, and then the rest of my body to face the person who wished me well.

A brown haired Soul Reaper, short in stature, began bowing low whilst standing, her arms stuck closely to her sides. She was one of the younger Soul Reapers that accompanied me while I visited the villages outside of the Seireitei. I readjusted the white sleeves of the robe I wore, before speaking.

“There’s no need for such formalities, Suzuki-san.” I held out a hand for her to rise, and withdrew it as Suzuki lifted her head, surprised. She brushed herself off, nodding. “Thank you,” I gave a small smile, pleased as the younger woman returned mine, “although, for bidding farewell to me in such a kind way.” At my words, the brown-haired shinigami shook her head and her hands.

“It’s just the truth I speak; some of the rogue shinigami you will deal with, have filled the ranks of lieutenants and generals. So take caution, and keep a close eye on your surroundings within the outskirts of the villages. Especially the abandoned suburbs, you never know what might sneak up and take you by surprise as you turn a corner,” The young soul reaper looked away for a brief moment, but made an effort to direct her eyes to mine, “whether it’s a blade pointed at your neck, poised to take your life, or something other.” Her hands clenched the black cloth she wore, wrinkling the fabric in tightly closed fists. Her knuckles whitened, and her face was overcast.

I stepped towards Suzuki and place a hand on hers. Her gaze softened, and she gazed up at me with worry. I wished not to cause her great stress, this kind young lady who managed to overlook my position as a Quincy.

“I will be wary then, Suzuki-san. But know this,” I held her gaze, voice dropping to a solemn tone, forming a silent promise of my return unscathed, “I won’t allow them to reach me.” I turned back, and whisked an arm sideways and then back in, bowing with that same arm tucked to my chest.

Suzuki-san blinked, and I was gone.

Before I departed for the village, beyond the Seireitei, I had to pick up my uniform from my temporary quarters within Ryosuke’s squad building. I wasn’t in a rush to have the mission finished, but I preferred to get it done and over with, considering that I often underestimated the amount of time it takes me for various assignments when it came down to battle. I recall that Ryosuke-sama would be forced to attend a number of council assemblies as the day continued, thus it’s in my best interests to finish my job before he returns in case he has anything else to inform me of. I gradually increased my pace, flash stepping across the smooth carved tiles that made up the roofs of the various buildings scattered around the area. Within a few minutes, I’d arrived at the small courtyard, walled in by wooden compartments that made up my main area of respite.

Carefully, I stepped down onto the grass, placing one slippered foot down, and then the other. The white robe was a fine piece of clothing, but it was quite restrictive in terms of my leg movement, and weighed a fair amount. I was eager to slip into the more familiar feeling of my Quincy uniform, buttoning up the overcoat after tugging on the other garments. I had to sit down in order to wear the long white boots, and after doing so, I tied my hair up into a less fancier bun than what I usually styled. Tucking a few loose strands back behind my ears, I unfolded the pair of white gloves and tugged them onto my hands; and finally reached for the Quincy hat that sat beside me, and fixated it atop my head. After ensuring my uniform was complete, I stood up, brushing myself off and smoothening out any creases in the overcoat and the tailored skirt. I breathed in, exhaled. Inhaled, and exhaled, my mouth thinning into a pressed line. I had to admit, that my mind was wracked with unease at the thought of going out in the open with my attire, dead and center of Soul Reaper territory, that was once ravaged by war against the Quincies a few hundred years ago. My feet stood rooted in place, for a few brief moments, before I forced them to move, instinctively quieting my heartbeat by manipulating the Reiryoku that was contained within my cybernetic implant-- And leapt up into the open air. With Hirenkyaku, I traversed the open blue skies of the world of souls, warm air rushing past my face as the small districts below became a blur of brown and shades of black and white. My steps were illuminated by a brief flash of blue each time my feet strode forward, creating platforms made of Reishi that would accelerate me in any direction I pleased, and faded as quickly as it came into being. Rarely having the occasions to use this ability, it felt nice for a change compared to my traveling on foot.

Seconds seemed to pass much faster than they did, but I was caught up in my tranquil thoughts, so I didn’t mind that my moments in the skies were short-lived. I recognized the outpost Suzuki-san pointed out to me, and I descended down, blue lights flickering before dissipating, landing on solid ground. Dust kicked up, and it cleared after a second as my heels planted down on the sandy pavement. I scanned my surroundings-- the lush greenery of the forests just a few feet away, and the various shrubbery decorating the area around the small hills. Beyond, the sun shone in slivers of its light through the dense tree leaves, the landscape darkening slightly, while a path overrun with weeds stalked along the floor, eventually disappearing as far as my eye could make out.

I pressed forward towards that path, one foot after another. I found myself trekking through the forest of thick trunks and darkened leaves, the warm air becoming stale and cooler as I walked beneath the more sheltered parts. Cicadas and a variety of insects hummed about, buzzing, camouflaged in their environment. A bird hopped overhead from one sprawling branch to another, a quieted rustle as it landed. As much as the nature around me calmed my senses, I had to stay focused on my mission and not slip into leisure so easily. On that note, there might be some rogues lurking about in the trees. I scanned above me, tipping back the visored hat, and sensed no presence.

What seemed like hours had passed by in minutes, my feet finally reached the edge of a small dirt rock cliff, overlooking a more miniature village of small alleyways and huts. The sun beat down on the colour-faded roofs and soot-filled aisles. Instead of bustling streets however, and the clamor of small-time merchants and people-- this rural area was deserted. Old barrels and empty jars of porcelain lay dusty and broken, the curtains of stalls that once held people, lay tattered and void of their dye, as they were buffeted by the gales. The whistle of the wind carried no voice up to me. Not a soul in sight.

At least, not yet.

I sat atop the cliff, doing another once-over before leaping down onto the roof of a small hut in the corner, lightening the weight of the impact and quieting the sound as my toes hit first, while my hands reached down and followed, distributing the weight onto my fingertips and palms. I then let my heels rest onto the rickety tiles, regaining balance. It wasn’t an option for me to go about traveling by changing my position on these fragile rooftops-- They wouldn’t be as sturdy as the ones within the Seireitei. These structures, are often neglected. I gave a silent sigh. Walking around on ground level is risky, but it was the only option for me in order to force these rogues to show themselves. Hirenkyaku is another option, but it would be noticeable in the open air, and I didn’t wish for an ambush from the ground to be a weakness.

I rolled off the tiles, dropping down to the dirt, briefly dusting myself off.

“..They’ve once filled the ranks of lieutenants and generals..” Suzuki’s words flashed in my mind.

It’s likely to be sure that they haven’t been slacking off completely, if not a bit. I’m confident that they still have the aptitude for the blade, the hardened mindset of a warrior that was ingrained in their soul.

Was using my schrift necessary? I wouldn’t want to overestimate or underestimate the enemy at hand.

It’s best I take them down as efficiently as possible..

“ For eternal greatness..” I chanted the incantation internally.

“Eidolon.” I said aloud, calling forth the power that I’d worked and battled for and with.

The five-star cross necklace materialized in my left hand, and from it, burst forth the blackened ghost that embodied the essence of my abilities, and myself.

“ Huhu, what a pity that you’re just as a helpless child as before. Bringing me out once more, hmmm, Miss Ishida?”

It’s voice reverberated in my ears for me to hear only. The distortion of it’s voice took a tone of belittlement, and the wispy black spirit slinked up in front of me, holding up a hand and brought two elongated fingers up to where it’s mouth probably was, as though to stifle a laugh. I stared at the faceless apparition, unamused and not in a mood to entertain it. A glowing red slit opened up on it’s black canvas, and stretched to a smile that reached the boundaries of it’s head. It twisted its head to the side owlishly, letting out a child-like giggle. “Quiet down. We have a task at hand, and you’re to cooperate.” Voice flat, I waved it away from it’s close proximity to my face.

“ Awww, you’re no fun. Forever the stickler .” Eidolon faded, it’s voice disappearing as well, while it slithered back behind me. I could feel the cold warp of it’s presence, distant quiet whispers overlapping to fade out, and in, a resonance of the dead. It took a while for me to get used to Eidolon once I’d proved myself and attuned myself to its presence. It creeped over my right shoulder, a hand enclosing around it, clutching my uniform. Eidolon doesn't breathe, doesn’t make itself known until you hear its voice-- A more inexperienced me would only hear a muffled, intelligible hum of syllables, words cutting off.

Eyeing the gesture as a sign of impatience, I sighed.

“ Siphon.” I uttered under my breath.

The dark spirit whirled from me, shooting towards the floor as I pressed my right palm to the ground. It flickered up into black wisps of flames, spanning out beyond the place I stood in a large burst, red sparks blinking in the air. It continued outwards, translucent obsidian sprawling across the walls of the huts, like shadows cast by the obscurities of light-- covering nearly everything along the ground in a mere split-second-- And then in a blink, those traces disappeared.

“ Seek.” I ordered Eidolon, who returned to my side-- It gave a haunting low call, before splitting into dozens of itself, and bolted into the alleyways of the village. All was silent. I could sense the positions of Eidolon’s parts, weaving around the sections of the deserted areas. I closed my eyes, concentrating on controlling the range of Siphon and Eidolon.

A shriek erupted from somewhere, along with a cry from a few feet away from me, behind a house.

Shouts started sounding from all directions, carrying fear and anger. Eyes shooting open, I unsheathed a long saber constructed from reishi, drawing it out from my side. I planted my feet into the ground, bending lower, forming a ready stance as I held the sword at my side.

The first black wisp of Eidolon shot back to me from the left, and as though it were carrying the rogue soldier, it spat it out from it’s flame-like mass, dumping the limp shinigami onto the ground. He was conscious, his eyes wide with his pupils rolled back into his skull. His torso and hands convulsed, his jaw locked open in place as faint groans came from him. Good. Eidolon had landed a solid strike on his mind.

“Stop-. Please, make it-stop.. Please, someo-” He barely finished his pleading before I crouched down, and slit his throat with the edge of my sword. Blood poured forth from the wound, and his sobs ceased, his body stilling as his arms dropped to the ground. As I confirmed his death, I pointed the tip of the blade towards his head, and jabbed at his forehead. It lit his body with blue inferno, instantly burning the corpse away with no trace.

One down. How many more, I’d have to brace myself for.

The second wisp of Eidolon returned, this time empty handed. However, as it rushed to me, a familiar white and black robe rounded the corner, wielding a longsword. A shinigami that Eidolon had failed to petrify and incapacitate. With a furious cry, the rogue lunged towards me, the point flashing blindingly in the sun.

Dodging to the left, sliding my blade along the duller edge of his sword. I deflected it, and redirected his aim to my right, sparks flying, colours of a blazing orange and gold. He grunted, as my blade slid closer to his shoulder, and dug one of his feet into the ground as his arm was forced back-- Drawing one knee up and driving it up to my stomach.

I intercepted his blow with a knee, leaping back to gain distance as he recovered, sweat dripping from his brow as he stumbled. “Damn it, who sent you after us?!” The man growled, stalking slowly towards me. With another shout, he charged at me, the point aiming for my gut. Parrying his strikes, the weight of his sword against my own, I stood my ground, only angering the impatient soul reaper before me. As he drew back his forearm to thrust the weapon forward, I snapped my wrist as I sliced across his chest in the split second he stopped guarding himself, and pierced the blade into him, gliding it to my left. Red sprayed into the air, coating his ripped robe. With my foot, I stomped into him, his injured body flying back as he spat out blood. He crashed to the dirt on his back, breaths ragged. “You-.. I’ll kill you!-..” Curses coming out gargled, he tried to rise, but failed as I flash stepped in front of his feet and plunged my sword into his gut.

“Gh-” The rogue gasped, life fading from eyes that burned with murder mere seconds ago.

Just as I was about to douse his body in flames-- I felt a sharp tinge, a prickle at my back. I whirled around quickly, moving my right arm outwards, my sword blocking an abrupt and sudden weight, as it pressed downwards.

Another rogue appeared, this time, his greatsword driving itself into the saber I gripped tightly in my hand. He shook, and with gritted teeth, drove it down further. “TEAR AWAY, ARAKI!” The callout for his shikai form. I was starting to lose my balance, I was in a position that caused half my body to turn towards him and not directly face him at the front. He snarled, a wicked grin forming on his rugged face.

“Can’t f*ckin handle me, huh, you Quincy SCUM!”

Drawing forth raw power, he slammed his greatsword onto my sword that was inferior in size. He bore down, the blade grinding down with a metallic screech.

“ Don’t be so hasty, you’ll exhaust yourself .”

Eidolon cackled at my back, its laughter warping around us. The shinigami upon hearing it’s words out of nowhere, had alarm flicker across his face.

“What the hell do you mea-”

His sword dropped to the ground with a crash, as he dropped to his knees as though his legs lost all feeling. With a haggard breath, his arms lay useless by his side, as he swayed back and forth and finally forward, face first in the dirt. The colour seeped out from his skin, losing it’s luster. Seconds passed painfully for the man, finding it increasingly difficult to draw oxygen, bloodshot eyes widening.

“Took a bit for Siphon to take its toll, hmmm? This is what happens when you get rusty, Ishidaa..” Eidolons silk voice of sickening sweetness glided past me, cooing at the sight of the drained vitality in the soul reaper. He drew one final breath, as his eyes fogged over.

“With that, the rest come falling down.” With a near sing-song pitch to the statement, Eidolon appeared to twirl happily in front. As much as its voice grated on my nerves, and its disgraceful mockery I objected to-- I could not dismiss the truth it conveyed.

The number of spiritual pressures that I’d detected when casting Seek, had dropped since the greatsword shikai user fell.

However, the lingering presence of other rogues remained.

“ Sloppy job, well done.” In response to Eidolons snarky comment, I drew a sharp breath exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Really, wield me any poorly than this and I might as well-”

“If you so complain one more time, I will kill you.”

My patience wore thin. It knew how and when to shut up, yet comprehended not the ability to listen. What more could it possibly desire from me?

“Tch! Kill yourself then.”

Oh for the love of.

I pushed down my sheer contempt for this insufferable spirit that was my power.

“Shut it.” I disregarded any of its further whinings, my grip on the swords handle tightening. I held it close and pressed forth deeper into the village. There was no other sound other than the droning noise of Eidolon behind me, and my own footsteps. The rustles of the trees overhead seemed to still. I rounded a number of corners, and tried to feel around for any flickering residues of reiatsu, to find nothing. Pebbles that were tossed by the oncoming gust rolled past me, and the loose sand in the ground sailed to the south.

A ghost town, after Siphon had finally rid everything within it’s boundaries of their life essence.

I came across a few limp corpses, and tread around them, slitting each one and lighting it with blue flame.

Unlike my arrows, my sword wouldn’t interfere with the instigation of their soul transitioning into the cycle of reincarnation. Still, the worry remained that I’d face repercussions, somehow.

I turned another corner, the wall of the beige hut disappearing out of the peripherals of my eyes.

A flash of white struck, the iridescence of a blade in the harsh rays of sun, forming the small sliver in my line of sight.

I slipped into darkness.

Of Light And Dark - II

“Got you.” The black-haired shinigami sneered. He withdrew the spear from the womans face, tearing it away from the space between her eyes. The wound was deep, and as the sharp end of his weapon ripped free from flesh, the shinigami’s triumph and feelings of fulfillment were interrupted by a flare of annoyance.

The Quincy wouldn’t fall. She stood rooted in place, on her feet. The black spirit he’d seen prior to him striking her down had disappeared-- that had to mean that his blow had killed her. The blonde sure looked dead, her eyes blank and face void of expression, her head drooping forward.

What set him off however, was the lack of blood since he’d landed the fatal strike. Why, was she still standing?

He hadn’t even sensed her spiritual presence fade as it should have, as a person died.

The man’s thoughts finally clicked together. A moment too late.

The woman’s “corpse,” froze over, encasing in ice and frost-- Everything from the head down, including the clothing. Then, it shattered, the fragments of the illusion smashing onto the ground like glass, clinking together, the remaining pieces glittering in the rays of light, as though to taunt him.

The mans breath quickened, a cold sweat forming. He could hear his heart in his ears. She evaded his attack at the last moment, and even worse, he couldn’t sense her. Anywhere. His feet dug into the ground, and he grit his teeth in burning fury, trying to conceal the dread that dragged it’s sharp hands across his back.

His mind was racing, a frenzy of fear, confusion. He needed to regain his composure. Gripping the spear in his two sweaty hands, he reset his grip with each slow second that ticked by in his mind. All seemed to still around him, the unnerving quiet of even the trees had him on his toes.

She was just lucky. Thats all. Thats all.. Rational thoughts, rational thoughts. Right.

How long has it been? How long will it take for her to show up again? Or perhaps, he managed to land a slight hit, and she had fled?

The man swallowed a lump in his throat. Should he run, and call for reinforcements? While he still could?

He switched back and forth between flight and fight, and he was even more enraged by the fact he felt fear at the cost of each decision, and even more so by the fact that he was standing here like a fool.

When he’d seen a man who’d stood beside him a mere moment ago, keel over dead, he was frightened, for the first time in a long while. A silent killer, and he hadn’t known who or what struck the other person down.

As the rogue shinigami stood rooted in his spot, a minute having finally gone by-- A near preposterous thought flickered briefly in his head, that came from that same fear. The fear of waiting until death came. At least if he didn’t have to wait, to toil idly like this, he would have a chance at changing the outcome.

“I wish she’d just f*cking appear already.”

1.. The shinigami shivered.

2.. A breeze brushed against him.

3..

The attack came from above. The shinigami barely reacted in time, parrying the shot at his skull. The black ghost returned, splitting against the wood of his spear, diverging into many others, spilling onto the ground like fire, before rushing towards him. He leaped up and back, slashing furiously at the wisps, trying to put out that same wildfire of vengeant phantoms. A small tongue of those flames, grazed his skin--

The contact with it caused his body to stiffen unnaturally, and he slammed onto the ground as they shoved him to it. He heard distant laughter reverberating in his ears, growing eerie before it faded. The shinigami quickly recovered, forcing himself to move by stabbing himself with his spear to wake himself from that state of petrification, and he roared with rage as the Quincy woman revealed herself, descending from the glare of the sun as those cursed spectres flew to her side. He rushed his opponent, and feinted to the right before flash stepping to the left behind her, slicing diagonally across from him, the blade grazing her mask, cutting the fabric as it flew off her jaw as she herself countered with her sword. Fueled by adrenaline, the black-haired soul reaper continued his flurry of jabs and swipes with his spear, spinning to avoid the attempts made to gut his head right off his neck.

Katja aimed her sword at him, cutting in a wide arc. He dropped to the floor on his hands and feet, a mad hysteric grin stretching across his face as he dodged it, and Katja grimaced at her failure.

The shinigami pushed himself up off the ground, and with near inhumane speed, he bolted towards the unsuspecting Quincy, scattering afterimages of himself all over the place. Each one seemed to approach and charge at her with equal malice, but just as Katja struck out at one, it disappeared and blinked out of existence.

She’d been careless, daring to go easy on him. Katja rarely ever took fights, battles, with the intention of holding back. She could’ve struck him with Haunt while she concealed herself-- But chose not to. As to why, she had yet to discover herself.

She needed to put an end to this, she’d prolonged this for far too long.

Finally, she sensed him. Katja held the revolver in her right hand, her pointer finger on the trigger as she held the revolver down in front of her, hiding the weapon as she waited for the moment to shoot him square in the face. Time seemed to slow down. She looked right behind, to see the shinigami with his arm reared back, the spear glinting with a cruel and merciless brilliance. Katja turned her body to him, extending her arm out to her side, aligning the muzzle with her target.

Her finger hardly pressed down on the trigger. In fact, even if she didn’t realize it, no gunshot had emitted from the weapon, so the conclusion she reached, was that she didn’t kill him. No, why? In fact, Katja was still standing, her arm still outstretched and the revolver pointed at the man, suspended in the air. Yet, there was no more man.

It was a dead man.

A blazing arrow of blue light, pulsating with reishi, had skewered the man in the left side of his skull. It impaled him horrifically slow, in Katja’s eyes. Perhaps time had still slowed for her. The shinigami’s head that had been pierced by that arrow, was forced by the continuous momentum of it, and instead of simply dropping out of the air, his body followed the head that was soon affixed to the stone wall behind him. It crashed against it violently, gore painting the rock as it cracked and fell apart from the impact of both the arrow, and the corpse. The body, arms dead at his sides, hung like a ragdoll from the head that dripped with blood-- His skull nailed to the rock.

He’s dead.

The normal pace of time restored itself. She looked first at the spear that lay in the dust.

Then, at the source of the fired arrow.

At least 10 feet, no, 20 feet away. She caught a glimpse of a figure clothed in white, garments similar to hers, that was perched up in a tree, the bow of reishi glowing in the shadow of the leaves that shielded him from sight and mind. In a crouching position, he held the bow in his gloved hands, poised to fire another shot.

He’d saved her life.

She looked back at the dead-spear user. She materialized the sword in her hands, and threw it at the body. It hit square in the spot where the arrow was, splitting it in half. The shinigami lit with blue flame, and he disintegrated.

Katja raised her eyes to the man who’d landed the killing blow. He sat there now, gazing at her intently.

Katja did a once over of her surroundings, before deciding that her mission had been completed.

Her eyes flickered back to the man, who sat leisurely in the branches. Was he watching her this entire time? Or, had he just arrived on scene to witness the fight? Katja was unsure. Regardless of his time of arrival..

She’d like to thank him.

Of Light And Dark: Finale

POV: Katja Ishida

“I’d like to thank him.”

Having been spared the rest of the battle and any future bodily afflictions, I was grateful. Relieved, that I could return to the inner Seireitei earlier than I’d expected as well. Although I felt mild dissatisfaction at the fact that I’d been unable to finish the job alone, and that some bystander decided to intervene, I shook it away as shame butted it’s ugly head in the depths of my mind, scolding me for feeling as such.

“ Heey now, if you’re going to go approach him, make yourself presentable! You look crappy with all those blood-stai-”

I instantly deactivated my schrift , the sword and revolver trickling into particles of light that drifted off into the air, and burst, shattering into microscopic shards, invisible to the naked eye. I considered Eidolon’s words, withheld a groan, and looked down at my white uniform. There were red splotches across the overcoat, as well as the boots and the sleeves. I’d been especially negligent to steer clear of the blood. On a more neutral basis between Eidolon and I, it would shield me from any sprays of gore, constantly protecting me when it could from any attacks it deemed lethal during close-combat. However, I’d ordered it to stay clear from me, stating that for once, I’d do away with its defensive measures.

Even without it, I fared fine. The blood was easily able to wash out from the fabric these uniforms were sown from, which I was rather pleased with.

I’m sure the other Quincy wouldn’t mind.

I took a one last look around me, before leaping into the air and activating Hirenkyaku. The man had left, but I could sense him around the pathway leading back to the inner villages, protected by a canopy of other trees and shrubs. There, after moments of flying, a glimpse of the same merigold hair and white long-coat and robes, who stood there under the shade of a tall spruce tree. He caught on quickly to my arrival, and raised his head up towards me. I let myself drop down onto the grass a ways from him, dusting myself off with gloved hands, as his gaze followed me. After readjusting my gloves, I made eye contact with him.

The fiery hair of orange, resembling warm flames was pushed back sharply, and his right eye was hidden by a black cloth that draped from his forehead diagonally across his face. The banded collar of his recognizable Quincy uniform scarcely covered his mouth, while the long sleeveless puffer coat was unzipped. His left arm of flesh was replaced by the cybernetic replica, layer of skin now a malleable steel, with limbs and flexible joints of wires and metals. Eyes of crimson narrowed as I took several steps towards him, carefully and meticulously taking note of each small gait of mine. I hadn’t expected that he would be so guarded around another comrade, as I stopped in my tracks so as not to cause him discomfort. Then again, I had my fair share of unpleasant encounters with my own allies. Yet, there was something about this man that, despite looking nearly unapproachable and withdrawn from the world, that radiated a sense of loneliness. I wasn’t about to jump to conclusions, even so.

He remained silent still.

I glanced around, down to the ground, and then back to him.

“You’re deft, in using your bow and arrows. Not only that, your intervention had spared me from death. I,” Drawing my feet together, I bowed, “wanted to tell you I owe you much. Thank you.” I stayed in my bowing position for a few more seconds, straightening out my back after I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

I didn’t expect a reply from the quiet man-- But he gave me one, to my relief. I fear that sometimes I lack in the genuinity within my facial expressions, so sometimes my own comrades have to affirm that I meant whatever I’d said.

“..No need for thanks. I just heard the commotion and had watched you for a bit, so-- Really, I should’ve stepped in sooner. It just looked like you were doing well without anyone else.” His voice was low, a nearly hushed tone, as though hesitant to speak at all. Surprise had flickered across his visible eye when I’d looked up again, but immediately faded, and he’d uncrossed his arms. He broke eye contact with me, still tense, and a bit unsure of how he could process my words. His gaze drifted off to the side, avoiding my own. I cleared my throat, bringing up a closed hand to my mouth. Now I felt bad, had I been too forward with it? Or perhaps, I’d come off as wry, and unfeeling? Or even, maybe my words seemed artificial? I hadn’t realized that I’d also tensed up, lips pressing together in a tight line of embarrassment. He’d indirectly complimented me, and although I appreciated the gesture, I felt as though I’d already set him off with my abrupt show of gratitude.

“Ehm. Since you’d helped me, would you like a share of the pay? I’m assuming that-” I’d started off, keeping my voice at a steady level, but he interrupted me.

“No, no. I’m fine. Listen, I don’t think I’m entitled to it-”

“I really don’t mind you see, you can have half if you’d need it-”

“Ma'am, we don’t even know each other, I’d hardly accept it. I hadn’t even taken up the job.”

With that, our bit of banter had come to an end, as I insisted his compensation for his part of a mission.

My hand went up to tip down the visor of my hat over my eyes, sighing. I let go.

“Forgive me. I’d been so rushed to thank you, that I hadn’t asked for your name, dear Quincy. I should’ve minded my manners. I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced myself as well.” I shifted my weight to my left foot, and treaded a bit closer to him, in a few arms reach. I breathed in. “My name is Katja. Katja Ishida.” I didn’t usually tack on my status or title as a Sternritter. To me, it seemed pretentious in my case, so I’d always say just my first and last name.

The man nodded slowly, also taking a single step towards me, as his shoulders drooped down into a relaxed state.

“Yanoll. My name is Yanoll Kurosaki.” The orange-haired Quincy met my eyes, having let his guard drop to a fair degree, the hesitance in his voice leaving. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Ishida.”

“It’s an honour to have met you as well, Kurosaki-san. You may drop the formalities, just call me by my first name.” I smiled a small smile. The man was so formal, and frank with his speech. He looked younger than I was, yet there was an air of maturity to him, one that could scarcely be found in the more brazen youths of today-- But it wasn’t a surprise. I was once one.

“Are you sure? Sorry, I must’ve made you seem old.” Yanoll scratched the back of his head sheepishly, a tentative grin forming on an earlier stoic face. With that faint brightness that appeared in his expression, he resembled a much younger person, a glimpse into a simple boy, full of life.

I chuckled. “I bear no grievances.” I extended out my hand, and he took it in his own. I firmly enclosed it around his, shaking it briefly.

“Say, perhaps, now will you accept payment for your role in my mission?”

“Was that, your true motive?” Yanoll raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, and no. Even so, I would’ve been interested in learning your name, as I’d assume we’d encounter each other one day in the Wandenreich.”

He nodded, and stretched out his left arm, as he walked forward onto the path beside me leading into the villages of the Rukongai. “You’re right.” He pointed with a tilt of his head, looking back at me.

“Let’s go, I’m sure we have a deadline for collecting that payment, huh?” He stepped onto the carved gravel.

“Mhm. It’s best I hurry, I have to meet up with someone before dusk. Can you keep up?”

“Of course.”

And with that, the two of us hurried through the forests, and before the sun began to lower in the sky, we’d reached the inner Seireitei, passing the stone gates. I took one last look at Yanoll as I’d headed inside the commission sector, as he stood leaning against a wooden wall, flicking a beautifully designed medallion up in the air with a thumb, fiddling with it, lost in a world that swam in ruby irises.

I smiled.

“Look at you, you mushy old crone.” It’s voice chittered in my mind.

“..Cut it out.”

-End Of Event-

Chapter 6: Headcanons: How My Characters Express Their Disgust Towards Another Person

Chapter Text

Ellaine Harribel

- Would turn green with revolt and horror

- If you said something so utterly atrocious, her brain would have to replay it over and over and over to make sure she really just heard what came out of your mouth.

- If she has food in her mouth (90% of the time), for example a french fry, she’d be mid-bite and would pause and with wide eyes, ogle at you up in down in amazement and dumbfoundedness.

- Jaw dropped

-Again, would literally turn green, like she was about to puke.

- (Guys, I’d cry.)

-Nose would wrinkle like she smelled something unpleasant.

- Too stunned to speak.

- Her appetite goes poof. That’s not a good thing.

- If she’s holding food, she’d drop it but quickly catch it.

Masanuma Kuchiki

- Would try to hide her feelings, would have an eye twitch and try to smile, as best she could.

- Smile would be VISIBLY forced. Not a good liar when it comes to her true feelings..

- Like, her mouth would be pressed in a wrinkled awkward line and her shoulders would tremble so as to contain her inner screams of “What the hell” or “Who are you” and “Why would you think that’s a good thing”

- Clutches hands behind back to restrain from punching you

- “Uh.”

- “Oh!.”

- Would walk away eventually to compose herself. “I need a bath! Bye!”

- Vein popping up on her face, there’s a sudden drop in temperature

Ayabara Michibane

- Brings a hand up to his forehead and slide it down past his eyes and down to his mouth to cover it.

- Would instantly avoid anyones gaze.

- Stifles cussing. If unable, he’d usually say something like “sh*t.”

- Clears his throat through coughs.

- His eyes would bore into the ground or off in the distance as he tries to process his feelings and your words.

- He would take a step back, and grit his teeth to contain his retorts.

- Full of discomfort, he readjusts his tie and fixes the collar of his undershirt

- “I have something urgent I gotta get to.”

- Leaves the scene, but not before side-eyeing you.

- There’s not so much anger in his eyes, just pure disgust. He’s not one to hate or hold a grudge for too long, but would be wary of you.

- If you bad-mouth his wife and kids however, it’s kill-on-sight and he will chase after you relentlessly.

- “Just business.”

Katja Ishida

- Instantly from her reaction you knew you’d f*cked up to the point of no return, her view completely changed

- Malice and distaste gleaming in narrowed eyes, “uncharacteristically” staring down at them, with arms crossed

- Lips would be curled back in a small snarl, or pressed together in a thin line of disdain, or one side is upturned in a half-grimace.

- Everyone she meets, she puts them on a moral level or standing slightly higher than her own-- But since you’ve shattered that appeal, she looks down on you.

- Sharp words, slightly condescending as she tries to contain her loathing.

- Wrinkled nose, you reek.

- If she’s wearing her mask, she’ll keep it on or even tug it up. But if you really did or said something, she’d yank it down.

- Lowers her eyes, and just glowers at you silently.

- Radiates “get out of my sight.” Plain pissed.

- Like Ayabara, she side-eyes you if she’s not directly in front of you at the time. Except it’s the nastiest side-eye a human could conjure up.

- “Hideous, foul vile tongue.”

- “How is it possible that you’d thought of such in your brain, and allowed it to be spoken aloud?”

- “Useless degenerate.”

- Eidolon would be cheering on the inside.

- “Hey cuss a little more yeah!?” -Eidolon

(I’d literally gut myself open at this point ☹️ I don’t think I could mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually handle any of these guys if I did something wrong. Wails. Like I’d commit a Szayelaporro-death-scene-thing)

Chapter 7: Headcanons: Usage Of Cellphones?

Chapter Text

Ellaine Harribel

- Used a mobile touch screen phone once, was absolutely blown away, like a child in a candy shop. (Has iPhone 14 Pro Max currently.. Katja had temporarily confiscated it and replaced it with one of her flip-phones because Ellaine was dialing 911 for fun weekly.)

- Loved fiddling with the wallpaper, widgets, settings once Katja taught her how.

- But before she knew anything about how to use the phone, she had trouble typing and pressed the wrong buttons. Would somehow change the time to whole other timezone, got locked out of her phone for a week, set up a bunch of timers she forgot about and ended up scaring herself sh*tless each time, forgot her password 7 times.

- Took a bunch of silly photos of herself. Gallery is full of 0.5 shots of herself and Iazkari when she managed to catch him off guard.

- Screen is of course, cracked. Drops it 10 times at least, daily.

- Katja HAD activated Restricted Mode and kids mode on the phone, for Ellaines safety.

- Search history consists of “fast food places near me,” definitions to slang and vulgarity. Nothing thats of the perverse sort.

- Youtube history is food documentaries, tourism, mukbang.

- Takes pictures of food.

- Has a youtube channel. Private for now.

- Has apps like Instagram, Pinterest, Snake.io,

-Phone case is black with a cute ram skull in the leftmost bottom corner. Has a phone charm, a tiny chain and dagger.

- Contacts Names go as follows:

Kalamari (Iazkari), Sleepy-head 💤 (Yrrad), Water-Girl 🦈 (Sophie), Primera #1 (Cellili), Gorilla-Gal (Ino), Riko (Ryosuke), Ghost-Grrl 👻(Katja), Ginger-Guy (Yanoll), Cool-Aid ❄ (Masanuma)

- Dyslexic-ahh typing. Misspells words 9 times out of 10. Uses emojis like 😸, 👍, 😣, 😡, 😋, 😀, 😭.

- Will send selfies (when she has proper reception) of her and a random hollow corpse, menos corpse, vastolorde corpse. Likes taking pictures of her food.

- Blurred shots of Iazkari cause he’s constantly trying to get out of frame. Her solution was to take videos-- Iazkaris solution was to knock the phone out of her hands.

- Also, rare occasions, if she manages to find Yrrad in one his hidden or hard-to-reach sleeping spots in Hueco, she’d snag a photo of him, and later send it to him. Edits and doodles crappily drawn wolf ears on the photo. This happens at least (or not at all) once a month, and a maximum of two.

- Some pictures have Sophie photo-bombing. Ellaine keeps them.

- (Urahara built in a filter film over her camera lens to allow her to capture spiritual beings photographically/digitally btw)

Masanuma Kuchiki

-Learned how to use a phone entirely on her own

-Knows how to use other electronic appliances/devices, not tech-savvy but knows the basics

-Decorates her apps, (Cyber Y2k) has her lock screen as a crescent moon and a midnight blue sky, time is set in a 24 hour clock digital format.

- Home Screen wallpaper is a moving pixel gif of a talisman coloured light blue, along with tiny spiral-like chibi ghosts floating around. Backdrop colour is sky blue. There’s a slight tv overlay effect.

- DIES for the aesthetic look for her phone. Loves making things look pretty.

- Has Pinterest, Instagram, Snapchat, Tiktok, Spotify (Premium), Bilibili App

- History is comprised of a bunch of fashion brands and online shopping stuff.. Yesstyle, SODA-PINK..

Chapter 8: Headcanons: Random Ones, All Characters, Will Continue Adding Onto

Chapter Text

- I feel like Ryosuke would be good at peeling fruit. Like, not with a peeler tool but with a small knife. He’d skin apples, mangoes.. Anything really, effortlessly and perfectly. No fruit scraps on the skin, or just a little.

Masanuma would witness that one day and be in awe and somewhat scared?

- He’d also be good at hunting? I’d think of Ryosuke as someone who doesn’t indulge in too many luxuries and is used to a plain grilled fish, or anything he can catch. Rations kind of thing. He probably doesn’t have a preference for food, and isn’t picky (Feudal wars, few food options-- Even after he became a land owner/noble I’d assume that his habits from war and battle stuck with the guy)

- sh*ts and giggles, but also if Ryosuke used a phone, he’d text like once a month. Just bare bones, would say a few things and then never pick up the phone again for another month or two or three. Type of guy to never use emojis, just words or the occasional mildly threatening “:).” Katja was surprised he knew how to use a phone like that.

- “I’ll throw you into the Menos Forest if you don’t (insert order) :)” “Are you sick in the head?” *doesn’t reply*

- Ryosuke raised a bastard (going off of lore from Link), he’s not good with kids. Back I say, back!!

- But I doubt he’s one to purposefully make them cry.

- Masanuma & Ryosuke ---> Teenage, frivolous energy & tired energy, polar opposites.

- I feel like Masanuma and Sophie would get along. They’re both bubbly and equally energetic and child-like in a sense. But both know how to sweep aside that front and get serious.

- Although I do feel that Sophie is crueler than Masanuma in battle. Masanuma tends to want to get things done, although she can have some near sad*stic and playful attributes in battle, and likes taunting opponents that get on her nerves. Like, Masanuma has a sophisticated, mocking air when doing so.

- Sophie, water type, (ok we playin pokemon now /j), Masanuma, ice type.. So I’d say their powers work in harmony together.

- Fire + Ice however, NOT. Which is also funny, because Masanuma would complain. “Hey, watch it! You’re burning me alive here, and my ice is melting!” “Then move.” “Wh- I can’t just leave here and not help you!” “...” “Eeep! Can’t you control your flames a bit better?! Gosh!” “I don’t have the time or luxury to do that while swords aim to kill me.” “Excuuuuuses! Man, I wonder how Katja cope- EEEYAH, DID YOU DO THAT ON PURPOSE?! MY HAIR WAS NEARLY TORCHED!” “..What were you saying?” “Nothing…” “Right.”

“Geezer!” (Masanuma was forced to withdraw from the area as Ryosuke pretty much forced her away with an increased intensity of inferno.)

- I think that Masanuma had accidentally stumbled upon Ryosuke drinking, but would tell no one, especially not Katja.

- Ryosuke isn’t a lightweight apparently. Would take a lot to get him “Drunk.” (wonder what he’s like. oH gOsh I hOpe NoT A ViOlEnt DrUnk!)

- Masanuma is. Like, a real lightweight.

- I think that Ellaine isn’t a light weight (Russian genes, /hj) because of her supposed metabolism if that has anything to do with alcohol tolerance.. But once Ino or someone else introduced her to alcoholic drinks she was like “BLEH.” When drunk however, I think she likes starting bar fights. Broken windows, chairs, glasses, toppled tables.. Dialed police, *checkmark.* Her speech would be slurred and she’d be really hot-tempered, anything that seems even slightly insulting even if it wasn’t, will result in your immediate launch out of the bar through the wall. Yes. Through the wall.

- Sophie would join in for the pure thrill, laughing merrily as she f*cking throws a guy over her shoulder and into the counter or a wall. Or nails a guy in the balls.

- Sophie and Ellaine get along. At this point all the girls are friends with Sophie, lol.

- Ayabara is a lightweight, and his boss pokes fun at him considering Ayabara works at the pub and concocts new drinks.

- Sophie, I doubt she’d like alcohol. She just doesn’t get drunk. But she was the type of chaotic child to drink beer thinking it was apple juice and puked the morning after (Haschwalth would sigh and shake his head)

- Katja isn’t a lightweight, but she hardly drinks alcohol anymore as often as she did before (wink nudge i should work on her lore sometime, i love and hate writing trauma)

- Not a violent drunk, mix of a sobbing mess or just plain disoriented.

- She refrains from drinking when around her friends, as she’d like to stay sober to watch over them and assure they don’t cause trouble, and that they get a safe ride. Intervenes when anyone tries something inappropriate or suggestive towards her or her friends, Ellaine, Sophie, etc.

- For Iazkari.. Mmmm.. It wouldn’t take too little nor too much for him to get drunk. Likes to start fights, in fact he’d probably use the excuse of not being sober to rile people up. Would definitely laugh and mock other drunk customers, and would also join in the fights Ellaine starts (if it’s not him starting them).

- He’d smash bottles onto their skulls, his speech slurred together as he makes fun of them. Grabs the scuff of their shirt and lifts them up like a ragdoll.

- “Police! Help!” -Terrified-pissed-his-pants-poor-bartender

- Ellaine and Iazkari are banned from 13 different bars. Ayabara fears for the day they stumble upon his working place.

- Katja tries her best to keep them in line.. Even in their gigai form their strength is immeasurable. But of course, she’s sometimes busy with the mounds of paperwork as a Sternritter.

- Speaking of Sternritters, Ulerich and Friedriend? (We don’t talk about them, yet)

- Would Yrrad be good at driving?..

- I feel like Ellaine and Ino would discuss the taste of a human heart/flesh. #Cannibalism!

- You didn’t need this info, but Urumi is the dominant one in Ayabara’s relationship with her. LOL.

- Ellaine plays catch with the young Arrancars/Adjuchars/Menoscars in the Hueco Nursery, using small Balas.

- In Segunda Form (She forcibly tones down her emitted spiritual energy and reiatsu), she will use her half-ram form and have the children sit on her back and hold onto each other while she gallops along the dunes of Hueco at top speeds. They laugh and cheer when she incinerates a Menos or Fodder Hollow with Cero Oscuras, and they like to throw Balas at nearby rocks they pass by to see who has the best aim. She also likes to bound up into the air and vault over the Gorge, but she only does this when Iazkari is nearby so in case any of them fall (they never do, but she’s able to catch them), the Sexta Espada will swoop in and save their day (while giving them an earful of “hold onto each other and Ellaine tighter”).

- Otherwise, Ellaine only lets the children ride on her back. Anyone else, she will throw up into the air and horse-style kick them, which is incredibly lethal to anyone even with their Hierro, Blut Vene, etc. Can fracture ribs or puncture an organ/lung, or cause death to the weaker Shinigami/Arrancar/Fullbringer/Quincy.

- Speaking of terrifying feats.. I just imagined that, you know, if Yrrad and Ryosuke ever battled.. Hm.

- If Yrrad tried sniping Ryosuke, somehow, just a “what in tarnation” moment, Ryosuke would nonchalantly TURN HIS HEAD AND LOOK STRAIGHT AT YRRAD THROUGH THE SPYING LENS, the exact direction, altitude just on point, first try, as though Yrrad was right in front of him.

- I’d think Yrrad to have like pin-point precision and accuracy with his shots, duh.

- Who would win?? I’d like to know tbh. I’d also like to know the results of the following match-ups: Iazkari VS Yanoll, Sophie VS Iazkari, (guys im too scared to put my own characters cause in reality i get f*ckin bashed 🧍), Sophie VS Katja..

- Tbh, Ino is just a straight up winner for me. She’s scary. Also a certain fiery-haired oldie. But Ino Vs Ryosuke.. Interesting match-up, Cannibalistic-Wrestler VS War Criminal :3 (petition to abduct Emerald and have him forcibly move here for like a day so I can watch y’all run 1’s fair and square with no ping/delay issues?)

- deez

- Funny idea, but what if Ryosuke just refuses to get a new uniform and just changes the set of bandages every week or so. Joke, but it’s just funny to think of him just keeping the tattered look. Masanuma would probably quip about it and be like “Whhhyyyyyyyyy?” And Ryosuke goes non-verbal.

- Iazkari would curse in front of the arrancar children Ellaine takes care of-- And they;d start spewing profanities a mile a minute around her and she’d be so shocked that she’d f*cking pop segunda etapa and chase down iazkari for cussing in front of the children.

Chapter 9: Event: To Live, And Live No Longer.

Chapter Text

Clad In Black, Adorned With Ichor - Part I

Hide away the hands that strangled

Hide away the wretchedness of the blood

Under gloves of white, you wear them to prevent,

The sullying of pure heart and skin

Under the guise of a saint,

You wear it to protect it from the filth of death

And finally, you raise those bare, stained hands,

Up to the heavens and preach mindlessly

With a smile of ecstasy and ascendancy

“Look, in my palms the slain evil.”

Yes, in your hands is the absence of a heart

The truly good should possess.

Deny me, curse me for the truth

Curse me.

Yet I will remain by your side.

“I will stay by your side, Katja.” The once saccharine voice addressed me by name.

Who it belonged to however, I failed to recognize. I was asleep. I wasn’t fully awake.

“Katja.” It called out to me once more, echoing in my ears. I could see now, a blinding white all around me, fading in from black. It softened, as I reached out a trembling hand, and a figure came forth, a blurred mass of colours, black, brown, white, red. Like trying to glimpse the sun scattering among the summer leaves, the person before me was a hazy, indistinct image, the features of the face were unperceivable, illuminated all around by this blinding radiance of white. Even my own hand, was a bleary object, as though foreign.

“Katja.. Katja.” The voice took on a clearer pitch, tone-- It rung in my ears, the identity of the voice still beyond me. It was so gentle, so endearing that my heart ached for the person before me. It yearned painfully for it-- Him.

Him? Who is he? I stopped, drawing my hand back. At this withdrawal, the voice repeated itself.

“Katja.” I shut my eyes, swallowing back the grating rock in my throat that had lodged itself inside. The voice sounded firmer now, so much more lucid. I let out a shaky breathe, and I tried to form words on my tongue, but something forced me to contain those words. I wanted to know who he was.

The tenderness I desired from him. “Katja. You..”

“Katja, you, I’ll-” The fondness in his voice had disappeared all at once, a shrill and angry snarl that cut off abruptly as I gasped, and flinched back as the voice was suddenly so close, and it hurt my ears as it exploded outwards. My eyes shot open, and I held my hand out in front of me, as though trying to defend myself.

Defend myself from, who? What? I shook my head, as the figure mutated into shades of red, scarlet, vermillion, a rich carmine. It melted onto the floor, and the white flared to golden and oranges and reds so glaring I shielded myself, and the world around me spun like I was nauseous, and beginning to fall over. It burned. My skin was searing, the atmosphere roaring alive into a blaze. It was hard to breathe-- Suffocating, I gasped for air.

“KATJA, YOU, I’LL KILL YOU.”

I was torn from the depths of my mind, stolen away and snared back into reality.

Before me, trails of fire raged all around. Embers and sparks flitted around me, the black smokey air engulfing my lungs with every ragged breath.

And right in front of me, was the bloodied and mangled figure, writhing, twisting and pitifully grappling at the hard stone concrete, with shredded hands of bone and blood, the skin melting off of him like blankets on the mattress of a bed, peeling away around half of his red visage, the burnt patches of his hair swaying in the gust of smog. He shook, reached out and tried in vain to pull himself out of the ruins of the burning car. The door had broken against his back, crushing the lower half of his back and fracturing what was left of his lower limbs. The car lay on its side, windows splintered and cracked, the shards glittering dangerously in the light of the flames against the dark pavement. The figure let out a rasp, drawing breath inwards all wrong as blood bubbled and poured from his mouth, teeth painted red and the ligaments connecting the neck and the jaw ripped, crimson strings of flesh hanging from the bone. The flickering blue light of a useless Blut Vene blinked in and out along his shoulders and collar, illuminating his gruesome face.

Bloodshot eyes of amber glowered upwards, and what was left of his right hand outstretched towards me from the rubble.

“Katja-- Please- Help.. You’ll-.. Help me-.. I’ll kill you- If you-” His words were garbled and barely coherent, but the pure rage, agony and desperation made my skin crawl, as my heart beat faster.

Without thinking I staggered forward. My heart ached. It hurt. So much to the point where I’d wished it to be ripped out.

I stood limply, stopping in front of his arms reach. His breaths were low, wheezing out in choked intervals, and gazed up at me with anguish, despondent yet resentful. As I looked down at him, and continued to do so, it seemed like he was pleading. Pleading. He continued his crazed rants, convulsing and shivering as though he were cold-- Yet those flames encroached us, and had burnt his body. I didn’t know what I looked like now, in that moment. I gripped so tightly in my hand, a fragment of long glass. The gloves shifted around to it’s sharp edge.

I kneeled down dead in center, near his face, and he grabbed and fumbled for my wrist, the hand that held the gleaming shard. I raised the glass, and brought it down on the arm that reached for my throat. He couldn’t scream, not with the damage done to his throat as his mortal injuries were now in effect. Instead, he vomited up more blood, and I kept myself away as it pooled on the road. His head slumped to the side, gaze still training on me, and for a second, we locked eyes.

Fear. In eyes that bore nothing but contempt for me for the past 3 years. He couldn’t help but watch me.

I clutched the glass, and drew it back-- And nailed it down to the vital artery, twice. I yanked it free from flesh and struck it down one final time, and slit it across the front-- and left it there. I rose up onto my knees, and shoved the rest of the door onto him, crushing what was left of the head and the glass shard.

“Aoto..” I could speak. I turned around, swaying dizzily as my weight shifted from one foot to the other.

And came face to face with the disfigured, maimed skull of my husband, staring into sockets of endless unfathomable black.

“I’ll kill you, Katja.”

I was startled awake. Jolting forward from the sheets that covered my body, a cold sweat dripping down my forehead as my skull throbbed with nauseating waves of pain. I was no longer gazing into empty sockets, but instead into the dim blue of my room. The sun had scarcely risen past the horizon, and the glow of leftover night enveloped the walls and the furniture, in hues of cerulean and lapis. Like the skies without grey clouds of rain.

With a heavy heart, my left hand came up to clutch at the thin sheets covering me, and tugged it up further.

My heart raced, as though I were still in that horrid dream, reliving the final moments with my dead husband, and it took a number of tries to slow my breathing and calm the violent storm in my chest. Yet, my fingers dug into the fabric of the bed, knuckles a bone white as I stared down at them.

No gloves. Not those white ones. Just my hands. After seconds of trying to decide if I should get out of my bed or continue laying there, I let go of the sheets, rubbing at bleary groggy eyes, blinking them twice in succession.

He’s no longer here. Mustering what strength I had in a malnourished body, I unraveled the covers, shuffling my legs off of the edge of the bed, until I felt solid cold floor beneath the soles of my feet. Touching down on the ground, I shifted myself off my side and sat hunched over on the mattress, shivering. It was as though my bones were hollow, lightweight and void. The number of days that had passed since I’d last eaten slipped my mind, despite the reminders that Ayabara texted me since I was discharged from the hospital.

My phone lay on the small bedside drawer to my left, the screen black. It chimed once, and the screen lit up, displaying a number of missed calls and unread messages from Ayabara and my former teachers and co-workers.

“Hope you’re eating well.” The most recent one slid up near the digital clock on the phone. It was from Ayabara.

“I’m sorry for pestering. I’m here if you need me.” Read another, sent just yesterday, at around 11:17 pm. He was up late, it seems. Guilt settled itself in my heart, at the realization that I hadn’t been responding to any of the people who were concerned about me. But, would reassuring them that I’m doing better when I’m not, only worsen things? It was selfish of me to continue wallowing in misery, but it was all I wanted to do as of now.

I wanted to be alone for a while, to pick up the pieces of a life I left behind. But time wouldn’t allow me, the sun would continue to shine in spite of the clouds over my head.

I numbly stared at the phone screen without touching it. I’d answer those texts another day.

Ironic, I’d been repeating that for how long, like a broken vinyl record, grating out the same mundane melody.

Drawing a tight breath inwards, I attempted to stand-- And nearly crumbled onto the floor, if not for my weak arms supporting me off of the bed. I grit my teeth, nearly cursing as I felt pain shoot up my left ankle, and I wavered as I took one step forwards, and I stumbled. I caught myself, refusing to fall. I shakily raised the other leg and brought it down clumsily, advancing towards the bathroom door across from the bed. I redid those small steps, until I’d found myself leaning against the wooden door, my hands grappling for the knob. I twisted it and as I opened the door, I slid a hand against the inner wall and found the light switch, flicking it up. The white light illuminated the dark bathroom-- Too bright for my eyes to handle, and I flicked it off, instead opening the door fully to allow the blue light in. I stepped inside, and felt fatigue all over again, consuming me, and I braced myself against the countertop, fingers gripping the sides of it, and my head drooped forward, disheveled hair draped against my shoulders and covered my back, while some locks of it fell down in front of my face, obscuring what vision I had. I swallowed back frustration as another wave of pain rocked my skull.

I tore my gaze from the sink, and looked up into the mirror.

I wasn’t fazed by my haggard appearance-- But I was even worse for wear, more than the usual.

The edges of the whites of my eyes were red, and my complexion was a sickly pale, I could see the blue veins along my jaw and neck. Cracked lips that were stained a greyish magenta. My throat went dry. It was like I was dead.

I didn’t know what I felt. Anger? Sorrow? Dread, fear, hopelessness.. Grief. Was I grieving the loss of my husband, or the loss of my own life? Was I grieving the girl that I’d killed inside me, or did I not know how to act now that I was free? Was I, at all?

I’d killed him, and no one knew. I stared at my reflection.

I took my eyes off of the mirror for only a second to process my thoughts, but movement flitted into my line of sight, and my gaze shot up to the mirror again--

And all of a sudden, my reflection was a black shadow, and a single red eye blinked at me-- Pressing two black hands up against the mirror, as though it were a separate entity in another world, refusing to obey the physics of what it reflected. I couldn’t scream, not as I saw blood dripping down it’s fingers and hands, and a red tear ran down from the red eye. It grinned-- A nightmarish smile that stretched from ear to ear, as it drew closer to the glass dividing us.

I did it without thinking-- I was so tired. Tired. Tired of pain, of this desperation and torment I could never quell and get rid of. I was terrified and angry, and I loathed myself, I hated whatever divinity had sent this vision to me. I smashed my fist into the mirror, violently shattering the glass everywhere, and I continued destroying it, cut up and bloodied knuckles slamming relentlessly against it, until the mirror lay in broken pieces around the counter, the floor and the sink. It was gone. I slumped over in relief, stifling a groan as wounded skin stung.

With ragged breaths, I reached down to the faucet, and switched on the water. I ran my hands underneath the stream, and it stung more. I kept my hands under for a few more minutes, and turned it off as I reached for the cupboard under the sink, and held a bandaid in my fingers. I ripped open the cover, and wrapped it around the front and backside of my hands. I threw the trash in the small garbage can.

That helped clear my head.

I dipped my head lower to the sink, and switched on the hot water, rinsing my grime-ridden face, and rubbed on a cleanser for a few seconds afterwards. I washed it off, and grabbed at a cloth on a shower bar along the wall, and patted myself off. I inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. I stood there for a few moments. I had to clean up the glass. Most of the stiff tension in my body had left, and I could support myself fine, at least.

The broom sat behind the door, and I reached for it and dragged it to my side, tipping over the mostly-empty trash can with a foot and using it as a dust-pan. I swept the shards on the floor into the can, and used the cloth to pick up the glass shard in the sink and on the counter.

The first productive thing I’d done in a while. My hands throbbed for a few seconds and ceased as I placed the broom and trash can in their respective places.

I smoothed out the wrinkled black robe I wore, and stepped slowly out of the bathroom. The sun was now a faint white in the sky, painting the room a dim pale yellow behind the translucent curtains covering the large windows. I walked past the bed, and opened the door leading to the hallway. The same as I’d left it, I noted, passing the living room and into the kitchen. I was suddenly hungry, and I hurried to the fridge and opened it.

Ayabara had run some errands for me while I was in the hospital, and I’d given him permission to enter and exit my apartment freely. I’d moved out since the incident, or rather I just instructed the movers to transport everything to my new living space. Anything that was in my previous home with Aoto, I said should be thrown away, except for a few books and trinkets I’d kept since childhood. I trusted Ayabara with that task, and he’d executed it just as I needed it to be.

“Are you sure, Katja? I thought you would’ve liked to keep most of it.. But, everything?-” His voice was soft over the phone, and I could tell that he was trying his best not to probe and worry, but it was all he could do for his best-friend. I knew he couldn’t see it, and I was fortunate-- I smiled, one pained and sad, but at the same time, heartfelt for the concern he bore. “Yes, Michi. There’s a box in my room, however, and a few of the jewelry you’d gifted me. Find those, and keep them for me, and once I move, return them. Throw everything else away.” I sounded weak, frail, my voice meek compared to the strength Ayabara’s bore. “You know what I want. You understand me the most out of all the people I’ve known--..” I cut myself off, to prevent admitting that my husband knew me the least.

A sigh from the other end, bore reluctance and frustration. He fell silent.

“..Alright. I’ll do as you say, for once. Even the pictures of you and Ao-”

“Yes.” I interrupted, harsher than I intended, and I winced at myself.

“.. Sorry, again. You know me, sticking my nose where it shouldn’t be-.. If you need anything else, just give me a call, eh Katja?” His tone of voice took on a more hopeful approach, attempting to lighten the mood that I’d soured.

“..I will. Thank you, Ayabara.”

I hung up with a beep.

There was a number of home-made dishes that Ayabara had cooked, including some dishes that he and I shared-- His signature cabbage-rolls, and the egg-drop soup I liked. There was an assortment of fruits as well.

I reached for the plate of rolls and the fruits.

…

I’d finished all of the rolls and the fruits, along with the soup and a number of other meat dishes.

I hadn’t realized just how famished I was until my tongue tasted food again. And it was good food.

Plates had piled up beside each other, and I downed a glass of water and with a content sigh, I washed it all down. It would take a while for me to recover from my own self-neglect.

Aoto’s death was a heavy burden to carry on my shoulders, and I feared that one day, the consequences would catch up with me.

I unconsciously reached for the small scar along the front of my throat. The small slit. It wasn’t the first wound he’d given to me, but it was the first that shattered and crushed my hopes of him ever turning out to be a good person. A reminder of him. I wondered if I could think of it as anything else. He, was not someone I’d like to think about.

Ever again.

I leaned back in my chair, dropping my hand down into a folded position in my lap.

If it was not grieving that I was doing for the past week, then what had I been doing?

Because surely, a grieving person wouldn’t like to think of the person they lost-- But instead that they’d wish not to think of them out of the heartbreak and the fear of succumbing to grief, the pain that follows the missing piece that was ripped from their heart when the person died. Dead.

That part was missing from even me when Aoto was alive.

I cannot dwell on this.

“The sun shines, and rises. Sometimes I curse it for continuing on without me, for allowing the world to continue to revolve and move on.” Ayabara suddenly spoke up beside me as he lay with his arms folded behind his head, lying leisurely on the grass. I was surprised, and perplexed. “What do you mean, Michi-kun?” A younger me questioned, raising an eyebrow, worried for him as he started speaking in riddles. He sighed, and sat up, without looking at me. He stared off into the lake in the distance.

“Time stops for no one. Even when you lie in your bed, wishing for respite, time is merciless and continues to turn it’s gears. When you sit in the dark crying, the sun rises with all it’s glory and, it’s like it taunts you with it’s light.”

I sat up as well, following his gaze. I took in his words, nodding. It was true. Time doesn’t stop for anyone.

“..But.” He began. I glanced at him. He tore some grass absentmindedly from the ground.

“I’m kinda relieved it does that. Because time doesn’t wish for us to stay forever in those moments of sorrow. The sun rises, and encourages us to get up with it. It urges us to move with it.” It was like he was faraway, as his eyes reflected the golden light of the sunset, as I gazed at him now.

“Did you hit your head? You’re starting to sound like some mad philosopher.”

“Huh?! What the heck do you mean by that?”

“You said something so poetic for once. Now I wonder why you’re having trouble with your english class.”

“Hah?! Listen, they don’t allow me to have free reign on my expression, it’s stupid.”

“... I’m assuming then that you no longer need my help, you emboldened upperclassman.”

“No- No! I do, just-..”

“... You’re as red as a tomato. There is no shame in needing my help.”

“... Yeah yeah. I got it.”

Yet, that sorrow still remained with me, for whatever reason.

…

I didn’t miss Aoto.

I missed the Aoto who loved me-- Even if he had never existed.

If, there was a way to have the old him back, would I have taken it?

I held one hand in the other, and I imitated the way he’d once held mine, fingers intertwined around the other.

I let go.

Clad In Black, Adorned With Ichor - Part II

Prologue

The final breath of another was the first breath of the other. With the flames burning away one, the fire reducing them to ash, that same fire brought forth a new forged sword-- Yet, it was unrefined. The blacksmith looked down at it pitifully, knowing that if this sword beared no purpose, unused-- It would be discarded, like the others. Without it’s other half, the wielder, it would have yet to experience it’s true life, the strength and essence of it’s being. Without the training however, the sword would be broken, failing to fulfill what it is to do.

The sword, although mighty, with it’s sharp blade and beauty in battle, will fail to cut down foes that oppose it.

Unable to shatter fate and carve out it’s rightful place in the world.

So who will take on this endeavor, to give this sword shape beyond the innate capabilities it possesses?

A select few of the shinigami captains sat around a table. They were troubled, now having to deal with a certain ordeal that could affect the later generations of Soul Reaper, and Quincy alike. The newer editions to the lineages of multiple clans-- Kuchiki, Zaraki, Shihouin, Yamamoto, Aizen, Abarai, and even those of the Kurosaki family. Of all families with shinigami blood, noble or not-- They were fixated on how to further develop the abilities and prowess of each bloodline, and what would transpire if lack of cultivation occurred. Crises on a grander-scale could emerge, but they’d all hope that it wouldn’t escalate to that of another Thousand-Year Blood War, or a repeat of the incident, like those with Tokinada Tsunayashiro. In short, the offspring of all families Shinigami, Quincy, Fullbringer and even Arrancars were monitored, from a safe distance with regulations.

They debated with one another, addressing the issues in each subject at hand. Whether involvement, physical, spiritually was needed, if rules needed to be put into place, if one needed proper guidance and mentorship-- And if another was deemed insufficient in strength, and are endangered.

“We have yet to provide a solution for this woman right here. I doubt she can even see us.” Said one of the female captains, reaching into the sleeve of her shihakusho and sliding a photo of the person in question onto the smooth wooden table. Her face was one of irritation and worry. “She’s a Quincy-- Part of the Ishida lineage. Katja Ishida, born July 20th, 1999. She’s getting on in age, and I would’ve expected that she’d have perfected her abilities as a Quincy.” A few of the captains listened in, while others sat in silence, and a few continued talking.

“However, that is not the case. Our monitors have informed me that she is unable to form her spirit bow-- Maddening, considering that it is the basis and most structural for any other abilities as a Quincy. Despite this, she is able to see spirits, and hollows. How she has been able to survive this long is also confusing, supposing that she has at least some spiritual power and a slight distinction in her presence.” The woman sat back from the table, straightening herself out, shaking her head. “I’m unsure if we can meddle in this case. I don’t have high hopes for her, even if we manage to ease her out of the neglect to her potential.” The shinigami captain reached out for the photo of the blonde woman once more, wanting to tuck it away. “Tch. What a waste.” A wry reply met the other captains words. “We still have the Haschwalth lineage to look forward to. Although it’s by name only, he has one successor-- she looks promising. Those that have weakened traces of Yhwach’s legacy are also fruitful.” Said another, who leaned back.

“Agreed. Things must come to an end sometimes-- It’s the way things work round’ here anyways.” Chuckled another.

“It is sad though.” Another captain admitted tentatively. “It seems we don’t have too many options here.”

The shinigami captain, Keiko Suzuki, who originally brought up the Ishida woman, sighed.

“I didn’t come here to listen to your excuses.”

The other captains instantly fell silent, as a cold voice spoke out clearly amongst the murmurs.

Keiko’s gaze snapped over to the speaker, who had indirectly jabbed at all the other captains.

She blinked a few times, as though she were seeing things. The one shinigami captain who almost never attended their meetings, and never spoke if he did-- Had spoken? She hid her flabbergast, clearing a throat with wide eyes.

A few of the other male captains grit their teeth, and others had expressions glittering with distaste. Who did he think he was, really? He held no respect for the gatherings he called “trivial,” and had swept out the door and never returned again. If anything, was his input so valuable that they should listen to him? The majority disagreed with the notion.

The speaker could clearly see the facial expressions they failed to hide, or rather, showed freely. He sat, unperturbed by their show of disliking. He was a blank slate, the one eye that wasn’t covered by the black eyepatch he wore flicked over to Keiko, and then glanced at each of the others. The bottom half of his face was hidden by the neck piece of a black tattered cloak, while the rest of it was framed by crimson hair that fell around the sides and front of his face, the remainder of which was tied in a ponytail-- an ode to how samurai would wear their own hair in a middle-length bun or updo during feudal times. He sat on his knees, the black shihakusho he wore draped across his left shoulder, and lay open and slightly tattered on the right, revealing the bandages he wore across his right shoulder and around his chest. They wrapped down the length of his arm, all the way to his fingertips. His katana was sheathed on the mat beside him, untouched.

“The one time I decide to attend, I’m met with this foolery and half-hearted attempts to, what is it, “support,” the offspring of noble clans.” His voice was flat, apathetic to their cause. “I’m welcomed with each of your unwarranted repulsion as well.” Another stab at their mannerisms. He didn’t bother with names-- those who knew what they did, and those who didn’t do anything however, were all called out in some way or another. There was neither anger or offense in his tone, no emotion; and that same lacking appeared to those with greater ego, as condescension.

To Keiko however, she sensed his impatience, which was unusual. Was he planning to sit through the meeting and wait till’ it was over? He did this once before and never returned, so really, if he was forcing himself for the sake of formalities, it wouldn’t make much sense because.. Well. Since he forgoed even that.

So if it wasn’t for the sake of appearances, was it possible that he’d taken interest in dealing with the problems arising? Keiko herself, wanted to know.

“..I apologize for their lack of respect for you. I see now that your presence here is significant, considering you’ve never taken an interest in our business here.” Keiko kept a level tone. Who she was talking to was one of greater seniority than her own-- higher than that of any of the captains present. His input was needed, and if this was an opportunity, then she knew they’d all greatly benefit if he decided to help out. The crimson-haired shinigami remained silent, but instead kept his eye on her. Great, he was listening at least. The other shinigami captains shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, restless, as they too decided to shut up. Keiko placed her hand on the photo of the Ishida woman, gradually pulling it back towards her.

“What do you recommend us to do? Other than.. Sitting idly here. I have a few more people to address here, would you want-”

“Us? I don’t work with others-- And no, I don’t wish to hear about any of the other cases you’re doing charity work in.” He cut her off, correcting her. However, he suddenly stood, getting up off his knees and sliding his sheathed katana back into the belt of his robe. Keiko was disheartened, had she accidentally set him off, or misunderstood his words? She also stood.

“Wait, then, what are you-” She began, but then, she froze, as her eyes landed on something in his right hand.

It was the photo. She immediately looked down at where she once sat. The red-haired man had been sitting at the other end of the table, on the opposite side even. He was nowhere near her arms reach, forget the photo. There were also other people sitting around him, and she hadn’t even seen him take it from underneath her fingertips.

She was appalled, yet a strange feeling settled over her that she hadn’t felt in a while.

Fear, the smallest shiver at his prowess as a swordsman. Even in his absence, and perhaps the shirking of his duties-- He was never the sword that rusted or dulled.

The other captains, realizing it moments after Keiko did, were also taken aback.

The room was still.

“I have no interest in doing your work for you,” he began, “but, I will take this one on and mentor them myself.”

He waved the photo back and forth, before pocketing it. “This will be the first and last chore you people impose on me, and it will be the last one I choose to do, understood?” He turned away, beginning to walk towards the door of the council room. The rest were stunned into silence, and Keiko was dumbfounded.

He, would personally teach, a Quincy? A Shinigami, teaching-

“A Soul Reaper captain, taking on a Quincy as a student?! It’s outrageous, you fiend!” One of the other shinigami captains continued her thought aloud, exploding at the departing soul reaper captain.

“RYOSUKE AIZEN, YOU BASTARD.”

He stopped.

He turned his head back, a silver eye piercingly glaring at the angered captain, and the room was suddenly cold, and Keiko stood still, unable to move.

The red haired man had focused and forced his presence down on all of them, exerting for only a few seconds, the power he bore. None of them were forced to their knees, or subjected to the increase in gravity.

Instead, he’d simply shut them up, directing an abrupt and frigid malice. A pure kind of malice.

“You’re not to interfere.”

He was gone, in a blink, the door was open. No traces of his presence to be felt in the proximity.

Some of the captains blinked, trying to process the events. Some were fuming, while others were wound up in their momentary terror. Keiko exhaled sharply, sitting back down.

“I announce that the problems concerning Katja Ishida, have been resolved.”

Keiko dusted herself off.

“Let’s move on.”

Keiko was surprised at her own words. She never doubted in his abilities as a warrior, and his strength was immeasurable. She’d known that since he was elected as a captain, and before that. A solitary man, who had risen up the ranks and had enough power to defy the norms of the traditional feudal system the Soul Society embodied.

He answered to no authority, and did as he pleased.

Even with the power he held however, he’d never tried to usurp another influential figure.

That was what had caused Keiko to trust, that perhaps now that he was involved, he would work his way to a solution.

“Wait, what do you mean, the Ishida woman’s case is no longer needing of help? What can that old man possibly do?” Snarled one captain.

“It is as I say.” Keiko stated, looking back to the door.

“He will prove to be more than qualified to take on Katja’s current state of neglect. Though I worry for what is to come for her.”

After a few more minutes of discussion, the meeting was adjourned.

And Ryosuke entered into the World Of The Living. He still had a ways to go, in order to find the womans whereabouts.

Nevertheless, it wouldn’t take him more than an hour.

Clad In Black, Adorned With Ichor - Part II

The rain had started. Hours had flitted past me in a blink. Trickles of water pattered against the glass panes of my apartment window, the drops racing past each other to sail past the edge and disappear. The weather had changed so dramatically, it was unusual in the climatically warm town-- The sun tucked behind those grey clouds, dousing everything in a cool and wet but dreary environment. The blues of the morning, and the golden hour of the oncoming sunset were replaced by the gentle stream of rain.

I’d originally planned to pay Ayabara a visit, just to ease any of his worries. A simple greeting and I’d be gone as soon as I came. The weather was just a minor inconvenience, but knowing Ayabara-- He’d force me to stay inside with him until the rain stopped.

“Forecasts predict that the rain will continue until midnight, growing to stronger showers as the afternoon continues..” The news hummed in the background, the glowing screen flashing a display of the path of the clouds over Karakura. The voices of the people on the broadcast were quieted against the rain on the windows. “It’s not so often we get this gloomy weather.. Stay dry, we’ll see you after the bre-” I pressed down on the remote in my hands, shutting off the TV before it had a chance to move onto the commercials. I’ll have to be brief then, considering the undesirable conditions. For someone such as myself, who is supposed to be in mourning, it was also highly discouraged from going out so often to avoid the stigmas surrounding the mourning process-- It wasn’t as though I had to hold a night of vigil for my deceased husband, but rather that I at least uphold the “look,” that I’m grieving, that I’m not so quick to get over his heartbreaking death. That I’m unwell.

I’d received a voice mail from my mother to remind me of it, the day after the funeral.

Gaze drifting off out the window, I sat in a chair, holding the phone up to my ear. “..I’m sorry to be bothering you, Katja. I know it’s hard, and your father and I are sorry that we can’t be there. You’re holding the funeral today, yes? Ah.. Aoto, he was such a kind young man. I know that you’re heart-broken, Katja, but as a lady we cannot let ourselves drown in our wailings and put ourselves in an undignified place in front of all the people there-- Be polite to Aoto’s family members there, and even if I’m not there to remind you, at least try to smile. After his funeral, you mustn’t go out so often, or at all in order to-”

I hung up, and shoved down the urge to snap the phone in half. Does my mother have no comprehension of suffering, or is it that she chooses to remain ignorant to my cause? The funeral was held yesterday. Polite? A smile?

“..After all these years, nothing has changed.”

Will anything change? I wondered.

I glanced at the untouched phone lying on the kitchen counter, bitterly recalling my mother’s words.

Yet, I’d already followed her directions without realizing it. It had already been a week, doing nothing but laying in bed and forcing myself to sleep because I had nothing else I desired to do. I didn’t cry. Not even once over my 7 days of solitude. I’d spent all of what sorrows and tears I had over the course of being married to Aoto-- But surprised myself when I’d cried alone with his casket on the day of his funeral.

I did smile.

I realized. I barked out a sharp laugh, shaking my head at my foolery. I fell back against the chair. Foolish, Katja, really?

Nothing changed. I wasn’t any stronger than I was, in fact, I think I was even weaker than I was before.

Despite the fact that being around Aoto’s stronger presence as a Quincy had some of my other abilities awaken, it was still insufficient, not enough was drawn out from what little I was exposed to. The kojaku I could form was a pathetic cry from my father’s-- And he’d refused and excused himself from teaching me further. My mother thought it was a useless skill to have, but perhaps she’d forgotten the purpose of their marriage; It was for them to produce a child that would carry on the Ishida lineage and shoulder the powers it possessed.

But because of their detest for each other, they’d strayed from their original intentions. That was it. Their role as parents had finished the moment I was born, they’d thought.

I looked down at my hands. I instinctively activated Blut Vene, controlling it enough to let those glowing veins of blue flicker along the length of my forearms.

The blood vessels pulsated, reishi flowing through them. This was much easier to perform, for a reason I can’t explain in words. I let it fade.

I haven’t been outside at all, obviously. Whenever I was, Aoto was always with me. He’d be the one monitoring me and our surroundings-- Protecting me, since I didn’t have any offensive measures to use in case of an attack. I learned Blut Vene by feeling out what he was doing in his own body, sensing and practicing how and where he guided the absorbed reishi and his Reiryoku. But that was the only thing I could grasp and be allowed to use around him.

He didn’t teach me much either.

I dropped my hands down. I’d forgotten why I wanted to live.

I just wanted a change, that was all; and now that I had it, I didn’t know what to do.

I was at a crossroads I never expected myself to have reached.

The rain continued to pour down, drowning out the unfocused thoughts that raced through my head.

Skies darkening outside, the world seemed to slowly transition from a stark grey, into black, churning up a storm similar to the one within a now hollow chest. It’s not that I didn’t feel, I just didn’t know what to.

Years of obligation and oppression behind me, yet I felt as vulnerable as a limbless dog. That despite the broken leash, it felt wrong to pursue my own freedom, out of fear those reins would strangle me all over again and choke what life was leftover.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I stood up.

He wasn’t here, and they weren’t either. No leash. No muzzle. No orders.

“They’re gone.” I had to say it out loud. “They’re gone.” Nothing for me.

A hand grazed the scar on my throat, fingers tracing the distinct mark softly.

But I didn’t have the will to bite.

…

“Wait, you’re heading over? It’s two bus rides across the town, and you’d still need a car from the terminal- Hold on, I can come pick you up, you know?” Ayabara’s voice sounded different over the phone, but it still carried his concern over perfectly fine. “Don’t be stupid Katja, you’ll catch a cold, and really, are you sure you’re in condition to-”

“Michi, I’m fine. I’m in grieving, yes, but I’m not incapacitated, at least not physically.” I argued, interrupting him as I heard his voice start to rise. I tapped my foot on the floor as I waited for his response.

A sigh. “..I know that, but really, you should take it easy. You were really shaken up, and it’s been a week-”

“Yes, it’s been a week, Michi. You said it yourself, that the world will go on, and I’m in no state to chase after it. So let me do this, please.” I paced around the living room, sparing a glance at the steady downpour of rain through the blurred windows. “A change of scenery, as you call it. You also said-”

“Damnit Katja! This isn’t court so stop using my words against me, and this isn’t a laughable matter either, so just wait for me there and I’ll come over myself-” He countered, but again, I interrupted.

“I’ll be out in a second.” I started towards the doorway, treading across the wooden floor beyond the living room. As I stood next to a small shelf, I reached my hand down towards a pair of outer footwear, clutching onto the ankle support of them and slipping each one on.

“Hold on, Katj- Daaad, who are you talking to? I’m hungry.. Daaad! Hold on- Ren! Shota, I’ll be right there, just quiet down, I’m calling some- But Daaad! Shota says he’s hungry, and I need help with my homework! Waaah.. Alright, alright, settle, I’ll help out in 10 seconds-”

“I’ll see you, Ayabara.”

I hung up as a loud protest and clamors rang over the phone.

I tucked it in my rain jackets pocket as I threw the sleeve over my left shoulder, fumbling for the zipper and sliding it up. I buttoned up the collar, and then the ones going down. I slipped a coin purse and wallet in the opposite pocket, checking over my belongings. I did a once over of my apartment before switching off the lights, and held out a hand towards the handle of the door-- Pushing it down, tugging the door out to the side, and I’d left, as it shut and clicked behind me. I walked past long hallways, the lights dimmed overhead as I tread by pairs of rooms, the air smelling of fresh rain and lavender. With enough steps, the corridor leading to the elevator area came into view. I strode over to the metal rectangular plate on the marble wall, pushing the button in the center.

There was a whirr, along with the distinct rumble of the elevator ascending to my floor from below.

I waited a while. I adjusted the black robe underneath the trench rain coat, smoothening out any wrinkles. Tapping a heeled foot on the ground idly, I looked around every so often.

Ding. Please proceed, do not obstruct the doorway with hands, arms or legs.

The robotic voice chirped out it’s reminder, and I stepped inside as the doors opened to reveal an empty elevator. It was less busier around these hours, especially because of the weather, people preferred to stay in their rooms and refrain from moving around a lot. I turned, and pressed the button “G1.” The doors closed, with a hollow click. It started to descend, the pressure shifting up. It didn’t slow to stop at the other floors.

It rung again, and the doors opened to the lobby-- I stepped out, heels clacking against the hard tiled floor. The administrative staff behind the countertop to my right noticed me, and gave a small wave and a bow before resuming their roles at the desktop computers. I returned their wave and bow, and proceeded towards the glass pair of doors. I flipped on the jackets hood, pushing back any loose strands of hair inside the confines of the jacket to prevent it from getting wet. Pushing open the doors, rain showered down, water drops battering against me, cool against the skin. The earthly damp smell was a comforting scent, the hiss of the rain hitting the hard pavement and bubbling down towards the drains-- Tiny silver jewels, transparent sparks bouncing off of the ground in what light it reflected from the darkening sky.

I breathed in the air. Then out. It was no longer as suffocating as it was.

Striding forward from underneath the small shelter, my heels touched down into a shallow puddle, and with each step forward it created ripples on the dark surface of the water. I felt the rain trickle down off the long sleeves of my coat and onto my hands, so I shook them out. It poured down in a gentle cascade, and with each passing second the water had drenched most of my attire. The bus terminal was a five minute walk from my apartment-- Whether or not there was a small roof over the benches would prove a bit inconvenient if there was a lack of, but from the time of my departure, the bus would arrive in around ten minutes.

I avoided a larger pond of water, hopping onto the sidewalk after I’d crossed the road. Cars rolled past slowly, the headlights of red and a fluorescent yellow blinking on, the radiance of those lights scattering in rays that the rain carved out for them in the air as they fell. Smaller automobiles zoomed by, hurrying to their destination with the rumble of their smaller engines, beeping a shrill honk at slower drivers on the go. A strong gust of wind threatened to blow the hood from my head, and I captured the edge of it just in time to prevent it from doing so, a hand tugging it closer to my face. I kept my head down as the winds picked up. I forced my eyes down to the ground, eyelids squeezing close to shut as the rain pricked at my cheeks harshly.

The wind stopped as soon as it started, and in my relief, I let go of the hood and blinked rapidly to restore my vision, letting out a quiet gasp.

I saw the bus terminal beyond the park corner, and broke into a light jog, and in a few seconds I’d reached safe (and dry) refuge beneath the roofed benches. Skidding to a stop, I balanced myself out and took one extra step forward with a heeled foot, and promptly sat down on the nearest bench I happened by.

Only then did I realize the ache in my ankles from the cold-- I pulled my legs close, up onto the bench, feeling slightly irritable.

The rain was a small whisper against the ground. I was tired all over again, but wouldn’t dare fall asleep out in the open like this. I shook myself out, relieving any tension. To my surprise, my breath formed a small cloud of vapour as I exhaled from my mouth-- Dissipating out into the air. The change in temperature caused my resolve to visit Ayabara to waver. If I had listened to the forecast (or him) better, I would’ve at least packed an extra sweater. Or proper leg wear, rather than these opaque tights. I pulled out my phone from the jacket pocket, tapping away at the screen and unlocking it, and seeing that the weather forecast now displayed conditions of -10 degrees celsius. I reprimanded myself one more time with a small “tsk.”

It was nothing, really. The bus should be here any minute. I shoved the phone back into the pocket of the rain coat.

Staring out into the empty bus terminal, the towering apartments and buildings in the distance with rooms aglow amidst the later summer showers-- Occasionally glancing around for a person or other.

The benches that were usually occupied by young students, the elderly, the working man or woman, were empty on this gloomy day. The few bystanders that would usually be scattered about along the curbside, smoking or talking on their phones, were probably at home or inside. The hubbub of the terminal was gone, a desolate place now because of the rain--

Which was also, strangely eerie, and unusual.

Even on days like these, there would at least be a few around this time, heading home. The lack of pedestrians along the roads was something I took note of, but ignored.

Was the weather really so dreadful? My resolve wavered again. If that was the case, I shouldn’t have been so hasty to reject Ayabara’s offer to drive me.

The bus’s arrival seemed to be delayed. By counting, 10 minutes.

My shoulders sagged against the bench, and I held back a frustrated groan. Just my lucky day, the one time I decided to get out of bed and stop moping, the weather decided to do that for me instead.

I should’ve driven myself there.

“What the hell is wrong with me today..” I muttered under my breath. I guess I was still, what, frazzled? Not thinking straight or things through.. My brain was all fogged up. Clearly, not ready to face the morning sun.

I nearly laughed at my stubbornness to continue giving other people and myself a harder time. The broken mirror-- Having to clean up the glass shards..

The image of that black apparition flashed through my head without warning, as I rummaged through my thoughts. Right-- It had been the source of my unease throughout the day, along with my lack of coordination, most probably. Whatever that thing was, a vision, some sort of premonition or hallucination conjured from within a weakened subconscious-- It had started appearing again and again throughout the past week, and was even clearer earlier this morning in the bathroom. That morbid red grin.

The rain continued to fall, hissing. The skies were now a dark shade of violet, and the streetlights surrounding the perimeter of the terminal blinked to life, the electrical whir and the white glow stirring me from my intruding thoughts. I hauled myself off the bench. The bus still hadn’t arrived. Instead of waiting around and catching a cold, I’d rather just go back and call Ayabara to come pick me up. Or I could call him right now.

I bit the inner side of my cheek, again feeling slight embarrassment. My hand slipped downwards for my phone-- When I felt the smallest tremor in the ground. I froze. It couldn’t have been an earthquake-- Surely?

Then, a warble erupted around me, receding and crashing back inwards, as though something had touched down and disturbed the fabric of reality itself. My breath hitched in my throat, and I felt the hairs on my neck rise-- This intrusive feeling of dread and unease.

I felt cold. Colder than before. I tugged my jacket closer to my skin. The rain was unperturbed by what was happening-- And I envied it.

There was, something. Something out there. It wasn’t some random natural disaster, although we get a few around here-- I could just, discern that it was a presence, instead. The feeling of anxiety in my gut only continued to grow, as I felt the air grow stale, and the rain slowed to gentle drizzles.

Only one thought flickered through my head; a single urge. It terrified me.

“I need to leave. Now.”

Yes, fear, this had to be. Only, it was something instinctual, as though I were some animal. It’s what protected animals and their kin from danger, and one would sound the alarm for the others. I had no choice but to obey, my legs moving on their own before I could will them to stop.

That warble in the air resounded again, but an echo of quieter garbles followed, distant yet loud. I swore I felt a dense, heavy pressure as it came around the second time. The rain was frigid against my skin, running as far as I could from where I’d felt that first tremor. I didn’t even know what I was fleeing from-- Blindly following the orders my heart screamed, to get out of there. My heels slammed against the ground with each passing second, a constant frantic rhythm on the concrete. I rounded a number of streets and corners, my heart kicking up violently in my chest, “Not far enough, not yet, go. Please. Go.” These irrational pleads were the only thing present in my mind, dominant at the forefront. The rain picked up once more, pelting against my face and legs, and it burnt to the touch. What seemed like hours of running were only a few minutes worth-- I let out a ragged breath, my lungs heaving in and out to try and recover what oxygen they’d expended. I felt a dizzying rush coming on, but I shook my head, gasping for air.

I had no idea where I was now. I wasn’t running towards a destination, but for the plain sake of escaping that dreadful presence.

Yet, I still. Felt it. It was far away, but it was so enormous to the point where I realized, I couldn’t run from it.

Another unnatural shift in the air--

An ear-splitting roar that caused my stomach to twist, exploded from the direction of the terminal. It echoed for miles, a sonorous cry causing the world around me to shudder. An unearthly dissonance that crescendoed into a deafening guttural screech forever reverberating in my ringing ears, the blood flowing wildly through my veins running cold. The streetlights blinked off, and so did the surrounding buildings light-- only for it to restore itself moments after the sound passed. The electric lines shook, a ripple traveling along the poles, and sparks flew from several in a surge of static with a buzz and crackle, crashing to the ground and burning out as the rain quickly drenched them.

I was completely paralyzed. If I had stayed at the terminal even a few minutes longer, I would’ve run into whatever being that had arrived on the scene. What was even more frightening, was that I hadn’t sensed such a life form that could wreck such havoc- That ungodly presence had inspired the urge to flee within me before I could even process the feeling.

Why here, why now? I had so many questions, and curses to be said aloud. They refused to come out, as another noise exploded out of the blue. It was like it was slamming against something-- Repeating over, and over again in a rhythm, each crash and thud growing louder and closer. I heard my heart in my ears, a thunderous beat.

I willed myself to stand-- On tremoring legs, I found support against the metal gate of the park I’d collapsed against. My hands were shaking violently, and no matter how hard I tried to get them to stop, I couldn’t, as they slipped and grappled for grip on the black bars to pull me up on my feet.

It was so cold.

My lungs begged for air, that I realize I’d been withholding. I exhaled in an unstable manner, trembling to the core as I drew breath again, having to keep track as though I’d forget to as a state of vertigo overtook my senses.

The presence weighed down on my head, and even though it was a fair distance away, it felt as though it were right next to me, gravity preying on a fear-stricken body. I couldn’t stop how fast I was breathing in and out, uncontrollable pants and gasps.

I took a single step forward, away. Another. Then another. Balancing on the line between fight or flight though I desperately desired to do the latter. Run. Please. Run.

One leg strode forward, and so did the other-- I was fleeing like a pathetic animal from the slaughterhouse, chasing down the freedom and life that dangled in front of me, while pursued by my inevitable demise.

Another roar bellowed from up above behind me. My heart nearly leapt from my chest, as I heard it again. My arms and legs drove out in front of me in tandem, skidding abruptly to turn corners and continue my escape. I didn’t even know what it looked like. Didn’t know if it was chasing after me. Maybe, it didn’t even pose a threat. I tried, rationalizing it all, because I was afraid. I wanted this all to be a dream, to disappear. I blinked back the heat forming behind my eyes.

And for a moment, I’d reverted back to my former self.

“Aoto, please. Help me..”

Outrageous. That single thought slipped through my mind for only a second-- It infuriated me, angered me. No, that was far from the truth. My fingers dug into my palms painfully.

I was repulsed at myself. Disgusted.

“Nothing’s changed.”

The rain continued to fall.

I slowed down, to a stop. I stared at the empty road road ahead of me. I raised my eyes to the bleak, dark sky, the clouds continuing to weep above, water droplets running down the length of my face.

Nothing’s changed. Even the heavens pitied me. I thought I’d have outgrown this excessive treatment.

I thought, I’d finally be able to live.

But even now I was threatened with death.

Nothing’s changed.

I clenched my teeth in a tight grit, my hands shaking again as I felt it’s presence draw closer, fear overriding my rage.

Nothing’s changed.

My hand clenched into an even tighter fist, nails threatening to break skin. A loud smash, followed by a muffled thud-- The lights around me flickered against the backdrop of the grey atmosphere, a dying plead. The metallic sound of something snapping and crackling, specks of orange and gold spiraling down to the pavement and fizzling as they extinguished-- The hum of a stray electrical current, and the screech of an object grinding against another. Glass shattered, shards tinkling to the flooded roadside, and the streetlights went dark. Sparks flew out of the corner of my vision, but I dared not look back out of sheer terror. I swallowed back the sickening anxiety that welled up in my throat, my breath quickening in short intervals. I was screaming and begging myself to run, the impulses so compelling that it physically hurt to disobey with each passing second I spent holding my ground.

I’m sure that whatever god was watching me from up above, was gawking in disbelief, in a state of incredulity, shaking their head, imploring me to recant my decision, and taking pity on me and my last hopes to cling to the notions I held so dear to me. I’m not strong. I never was.

I was never strong enough to admit I was weak.

I was weak enough to boast of strength I never had.

Nothing’s changed.

It smashed onto the pavement mere feet away from where I stood cowering.

It’s low chitter escalated into a snarl, hearing it’s teeth gnash together. I’d heard these all these sounds before-- But all those times, I’d never once confronted one myself.

Of all those times, including this one, I’d never faced one of this caliber, the distinction being that it’s presence was colossal, and as thick and heavy like smoke or a hand choking all air out of your throat. My composure was on the brink of breaking and falling apart, just being and sensing it had every fibre in my body sending off alarms for me to break away from it’s grasp. That spoke volumes about just the level this specific spiritual entity was on.

What caused my resolve to waver, however, was the next action it took.

I’d only ever read about the theory of these beings, called Hollows. That there were many evolutions and variable appearances when it came down to them. That they were Souls that had severed their chain of fate, or had it eroded completely. Jikaburei, a Tsukirei-- Normal Plus Souls could all become Hollows if they were driven to madness, with their chain having fully consumed itself through Encroachment. To me, it was a heart-wrenching discovery, that this event occurred even after the death of an individual. Beyond the definition of cruel, that even dying wouldn’t spare them the loss of their humanity itself.

What frightened me even more as a child, was that they would become mindless beasts seeking out the living and the lost souls of the world, and consume them to satiate their never-ending hunger that originated from the gaping hole in their body, earning these beasts their name, a “Hollow.” I prayed, often that I’d never have to encounter or see one in my life.

“Adjuchas?.. They can speak?”

“Yes, Ojou-sama. They’re capable of communicating with us as well. However, it is often not for our benefit that they choose to. Not only that, but they are a rank above that of the Menos class-- Possessing an intellectuality similar to ours.”

“..I don’t want to meet one. If it’s as smart as we are, isn’t that dangerous--”

“It is. Fear not, lady Ishida. Your father and mother will protect you, and so will I, along with the other Quincy. Ah, you’re shaking, dear-- I warned you, that these books in your father’s archives aren’t suited for your age.”

“Will I have to face an Adjucha one day, Miss Eline?”

“... I pray you do not. But I trust, that you will grow to be strong, stronger than your father and mother-- So that you won’t be afraid as you are now.”

“...”

“Present day, right now-- You are to grow healthy, and focus on your studies. I will worry about the Hollows-- I won’t let them hurt you, Ishida-sama.”

Muffled voices outside the crack in the door of my room, dim light spilling in. I rubbed my eyes, as my father’s distressed voice reached me from downstairs. I crept closer to the door, peeking through it, and looking down past the stairwell. I wasn’t supposed to be awake right now.

“..She was found dead? Where?”

“..I’m sorry, sir. We--we, couldn’t retrieve her body-- We have yet to find it. All we found was the headband she-..”

His voice cracked, failing to continue his sentence.

“By the time we arrived on scene, the Hollow had fled the area.”

“..f*ck. What Hollow was it this time.” His wry voice was hushed.

“..Adjuchas. We assessed the remnants of it’s spiritual footprint. Eline had gone against the orders given by Renho, and was especially defensive and upset that a Hollow had strayed so close to the residence.” Another finished the report for the other man.

“She said that she needed to protect Katja-sama against any possible threat that aims to harm her. I tried to stop her-.. But she was especially insistent, despite the fact that we didn’t know if it was targeting the young mistress.”

“It was her decision that led her to an early grave. Tell Katja that Eline has gone away to return to her family. Renho is being an earful already. I’ll track down that Hollow myself, and kill it.”

“..Understood.”

That Adjuchas, was never found. Father had returned home, angered. He said that it had fled into the Garganta before he could land the killing blow-- What injury it suffered would heal with time, but the large splinter across the right eye of it’s bone mask, would be permanent as long as it was an Adjuchas.

I activated my Blut Vene, veins of reishi forming along the lengths of my arms and collar. They traveled down my back and along my legs, a pale blue luminosity against my skin, radiating a gentle but pulsating glow.

I had turned to face the Hollow, who hadn’t even moved a muscle in the few seconds that passed.

It felt as though I’d been doused in pacific waters, blood running cold, my stomach falling.

The bone mask, resembling a once human face, was transfigured into a serpent-like cross between reptile and human-- Those black sockets holding eyes of a sickly yellow, that glowed brightly in contrast to its deathly features. It was a mutated, disfigured form, the shoulders sculpted into a wide hulking mass, while the rest of it’s torso was a near bone-like structure, as though you could touch the ribcage through the skin. Limbs of distorted muscles and joints were crouched low to the ground-- Hands and claws instead replaced by large scythe-like appendages that curled up against the ground. Legs were now substituted by a long, thick tail that was curled into a coil. A mess of body parts, morphed into the nightmarish creature that it appeared as now. It opened it’s mouth, slightly ajar, a black pair of tongues flicking out of it’s unhinged jaw, and it’s yellow eyes immediately locked onto me. It let out a hiss, the tail behind it unraveling into an s.

As it raised it’s face toward my own, my mouth ran dry.

Across it’s right eye, the bone mask was splintered.

My Blut Vene started to blink off, and I had to force it to restore itself.

The Hollow before me seemed to take notice of this, and pause--

And it’s lower jaw started to tremble, and then it erupted into a cacophony of sounds, small chuffs and finally a warped and wrong shriek of merriment. It started to sound, nearly hysterical, as the scythes dug into the ground in an attempt to contain it’s fit of howlings and convulsions.

It was laughing.

“Priceless! The look on your face, I should’ve gutted your head right off your shoulders to capture it forever, eh?”

It threw back it’s head, digging it’s limbs into the ground to stop itself from falling over. It’s jaw had unhinged fully, blade-like serrated fangs glinting against what light remained. It continued laughing, taunting me, shaking it’s head as though it were trying to still process what it had witnessed.

“Ohh, you poor thing. Your little excuse for armour won’t protect you against sh*t.. This is too- Hah! This is too good, f*ck.. Haven’t had a good laugh since that Quincy bitch in the headband spat some nonsense about justice and the preservation of weaklings.”

It killed Eline.

“Ahh.. She wasn’t even worth troubling myself over! Her form was perfect, sure, those arrows managed to tickle me a bit-- But that was all she could’ve done really-- So funny, am I right?”

His tone suddenly soured, a low snarl at the last bit, animosity creeping into his voice.

“All, to protect you. She died for nothing. Except, her dying alerted your father, and he pursued me, that prick, and put a dent in my mask and nearly killed me. You know, I can hold a grudge. I’m a good person, really-- But what he did to me, is unforgivable.” His fangs were bared now, hissing loudly.

“But now that you’re all alone, and that f*cking nuisance isn’t around anymore.. I can have my way with you.”

The Adjucha chuckled lowly. “No one is here, to save you anymore.”

He stretched his jaw out even wider, and I felt a sudden increase in spiritual pressure-- As reiatsu condensed into a larger focal point from just outside his mouth. A ball of red light formed, and then it’s size increased by tenfold.

Then, it fired down towards me, hurtling at the speed of sound.

I braced myself. A foolish stand for nothing but the will to defend till’ the last, a life I didn’t deserve-- As though showing even the slightest resistance would change the outcome of anything, a voice whispered to me, to stop.

While the other screamed it’s delight and laughed at my chosen opposition, an ember igniting once more within the confines of my soul.

It urged me closer, to return to the hellfire that ravaged my heart, threatening to scorch everything that I was.

But I resisted.

I felt it sear across my forearms, and an unbearable heat torched my skin.

Nothing’s changed.

Clad In Black, Adorned With Ichor - Finale

I reside with those devout and virtuous

I am the companion of warriors who defy death

I am a face that haunts murderers

The person they wish not to see amongst the crowd

I am the blood that was spilled by their hands, yet they cower before,

The thought that it may one day run with their own.

I lurked in the depths of their hearts

Yet they heartlessly wish for me to remain a stranger.

Mistake me not for the Reaper’s scythe, for am I am no blade,

I am not the thing that cuts.

Yet I can be wielded as a weapon over others, poised at your neck.

I am many things, including those chains that bind you.

You may run, and you may reject me, and rest in blessed ignorance until I strike.

You have no choice but to face me eventually, lingering on the border of the grave--

I am Fear.

The clouds of debris hung low and dense, blanketing the ground in loose rubble and wet smog as the rain continued to fall to the floor, gushing in to fill the newly formed crater caused by the blast.

I wasn’t sure if I had lived through the lethal attack-- The sensation of getting burnt alive had left me disoriented, the constant stabbing and sharp pierces throbbing through my forearms. I was too shaken up to look down at their condition, afraid I might retch at the sight of bare bone and mangled flesh.

Yet, I did. I lifted them up halfway, trembling, steam and vapour rising from them. I slowly processed them, like they weren’t my own attached to my shoulders-- I steeled myself against the possibility that I was going to see skeletal stumps, heart quickening in my chest. But to even my own disbelief, I saw my fingers, and my forearms-- All intact, and almost unmarred.

Those luminous blue veins pulsated, as though responding to the wave of relief that washed over me.

The clouds of stone and dirt hung over me still-- Allowing scarce visibility for at least a few moments.

However. I was positive now that the Adjucha sensed my spiritual presence, deducing my survival.

It also, didn’t sound pleased that I’d lived, and with a hair-raising shriek, those jarring sounds emitting from within its cavernous mouth screaming its incredulity and anger. It lowed into another ghostly hiss, and I heard it give a dark make of a laugh.

The debris cleared as the rain battered down, unfettered by the violent events.

With the sky an ill-lit grey, the silhouette of the Hollow was chilling against the backdrop; a demon of a serpent, blade-like limbs dragging forward, it’s tail flicking impatiently out behind it, lashing back and forth.

The Adjucha was shocked into finding offense at the sudden deflection, or rather defense against one of his Ceros.

He’d spied those cursed veins of the Quincy-- That utterly irksome Blut Vene, as the light ray he’d fired down faded due to the lack of driving raw power and energy. At the same time, he found amusem*nt in the woman’s struggle for her life-- That futility on her part wouldn’t last long, if he could help it.

“Awh, pity really,” the Hollow drawled, “that would’ve been a swifter death than what I’d originally planned for you.” His fangs flashed in the faint buzz and flicker of a dying streetlight, forked tongue slipping out and in.

“Shame, here I was trying to--”

He was only goading her on. Why not toy with her for a bit? She’d deserved it, they all did, those cursed Ishida.

She’d indirectly mocked him, the mere existence and life of hers was his for the taking, yet she was always so far from his grasp ever since he’d tried closing in on her as a mere child, an endless game of hide and seek and childish series of games he lost. He was even angrier than he’d thought, harbouring a deep-seated grudge against her bloodline ever since the elder Ishida nearly struck him down.

Even the effort and energy wasted on tracking her down and endlessly waiting, had only furthered his fury.

But what had happened next, gave new heights to his outrage.

The Adjucha was thrown off a bit of a balance by my feat of survival, and had tried to regain composure by taunting me and attempting to tip me off my own.

I hadn’t exactly mastered, the art of Hirenkyaku. You could hardly call it Hirenkyaku with what hap-hazard, minor control over Reishi I currently had. Even so, it seemed that I was becoming more and more reckless and determined, all originating from the small ounce of triumph and pride that accompanied my perfect usage of Blut Vene. I had to keep myself in check, allowing arrogance and boastfulness would only lead to a quicker death-- Nevertheless, something inside me whispered that perhaps..

This was the first battle I could win.

Could the weak, ever win?

I, wanted to be my own testimony to this question.

“It’s a snake. Although, even if it isn’t all snake-- It has the head of one.”

I hadn’t even thought about my next course of action thoroughly-- That theory failed to precede my borderline suicidal decision.

Before the Adjucha could finish his incessant ramblings, I’d leapt up into the air with arms drawn back, and with nearly destructive force and acceleration, launched myself dead in front of the area between his eyes, blue veins flaring up; a brief flash of iridescent to sky blue blinding light, pumping reinforced Reishi through the muscles, skin, bone--

And slammed a left hook into the side of his skull, nailing him right below the jaw, my knuckles grinding against the bone mask-- Grazing the splinter that my father had inflicted onto it long ago. My fist dug into the mask, a driving momentum that was backed by the hardened skin.

Crack. Then, a sickening crunch. I blinked, and the Adjuchas’ head was knocked back, the rest of his spinely body following with it as he nearly slid off balance, water spraying everywhere as his tail whipped out and then inwards, trying to keep himself from falling as scythe-like extensions carved themselves deeper into the ground, slowing his movements. Droplets scattered around, and as he lashed out in retaliation, I let myself fall to the ground roughly as a sharp whistle cut through the air just above my face-- The precision and accuracy, along with the near lightning quick swipe had sliced through the rain showers, a delayed but powerful gust of wind following the cleave, stealing the breath from my lungs as that same gale shattered the glass of a few floors of an abandoned building. The power-lines shook and were tossed about by just the mere action of him slashing with full force.

I tumbled to the ground, rolling to one side, instinctively activating Blut Vene to cushion the impact along my shoulders, curling my head inwards to support my neck. I groaned, heaving myself quickly up onto my feet, coughing and spluttering, blinking as rain stung my eyes and drenched my skin. I was given no moment to catch my breath, as I felt a sharp prickle right above me, and I leapt out to my right-- Dodging another fatal strike aimed to skewer me with the end of the wicked appendage, and it impaled the ground, splintering the pavement, large crevices forming that threatened to engulf me. I staggered up onto my feet once more, heart thrashing wildly and frantically around in an aching rib-cage, my eyes catching onto the Adjucha’s other arm that swung down in front of me-- I stumbled to an immediate stop, feeling the wind rise upwards in a fierce torrent as it struck with brute force. I gave a loud curse, bolting for cover as it’s arms tore free from the concrete and struck out blindly, as though it were suffering from the mild head-trauma I’d dealt.

With an ear-piercing, anguished and enraged screech, the Adjucha charged, it’s jaw unhinging, revealing several rows of small incisors that were layered around the expanse of his bottom jaw. It’s mouth yawned open wider, the off-purple elastic tendons connecting the upper and lower jaw stretching wider as he slid along the ground in a hauntingly fluid motion-- Coasting over any imperfections on the ground that hindered my own movement.

I ran, my lungs shredding themselves, breathing erratically as I pushed my body past it’s physical limits, both terror and courage pitting one another up as I evaded attacks that ambushed me from behind--

I turned around corners, kicking off my heels and raced against the frigid rain, trying everything I could to slow him down, from maneuvering through shorter roads and alleyways, and sprinting across empty roads. I ducked as he continuously aimed to cut my head from my shoulders, as he mocked and taunted me, shouting out with a distorted and warbled voice, blood-curdling threats. I ran. It was all I could do for now. Vaguely, I heard the faint whir and buzz, the howl of another Cero forming in the air, and was grazed by the blast as it soared right over my left shoulder, incinerating the jacket’s collar- It singed the skin on my shoulder, and I held back a cry of pain.

I could only go so far, and that truth was horrifyingly realized.

I’d miscalculated the reach of one of his slashes, and as I floundered and miss-stepped, my feet going out from under me, my reaction time suffered.

Strengthening and reinforcing Blut Vene in my arms, I held them out in front of me and angled my body to alleviate the damage the strike would cause, shielding my vitals-- I wasn’t fast enough.

The sharp end of the serrated limbs gutted deeply into my skin, blood spraying from the large laceration across my forearms. Reishi quickly rushed to protect what layer of skin and muscle the blades hadn’t hurt, but I struggled to keep my mind and consciousness afloat with the sheer pain-- Agony, my forearms feeling solely the shredded skin and gashes in the tendons, nerves sending the excruciating pain straight to my head and back all over again. Because of the torment, my mind had momentarily drifted away from the battle at hand--

Mercilessly, the Adjuchas drove his limbs deeper into the center of my arms, and with that force, hurled me to the right, sending a slack and unprotected body crashing into a building, glass shattering as I collided with the panes. Like a ragdoll, I was sent to smash into an old tiled wall, my head brutally slamming against it, and my vision blacked out for mere seconds, and all of a sudden I could barely make out the outside world. My leg had twisted abnormally, and it felt as though a bone had been yanked out of it’s place. Red flooded my line of sight, and something warm trickled down the sides and fronts of my face, feeling it run down across my lips. My ears rung painfully, my skull feeling as though it was stabbing itself over and over again-- I ground my teeth together to keep myself from succumbing to unconsciousness, simultaneously holding back tears biting at my eyes.

All breath was robbed from my lungs-- I tried for air. Mangled arms were limp out at my sides and one forearm draped over my body-- I couldn’t feel anything in my right arm, couldn’t move. Small shards of glass had cut my legs up, and they trembled as I willed everything I had to stir them to action. Another wave of nausea and lethargy fogged my mind in a thick smoke.

I fell against the cold floor with a hollow thud. I was sure to be an inane sight-- a ludicrous spectacle to the divine who watched me. I spluttered, choked, blood spitting up from my gut within, and splattered onto the ground.

My head shook and trembled as I lifted it to make out the Adjucha’s figure, the world flipped on it’s side as I lay useless and vulnerable in the false refuge of the wrecked building. Everything was a mesh of blurred outlines and colours-- Just like in that nightmare. The only red I was seeing was my own blood-- Not Aoto’s.

Ah.. Why was I even thinking of him, when I’m dying?

Was I really so attached to him?

I’d forgotten.

I wanted to live. For what reason?

I’d forgotten.

Robbed, of everything including my will to live.

So, why was it that I wanted my life back?

…

Why, was I fighting? For what purpose does a weakling fight?

When the weak are told they are weak, over. And over. And over. And over. It’s only a matter of time before they wish they’d be strong enough to make them bite their words--

Weak. It’s what I am.

I fought, to defy it.

Because fighting to defy the strong, is not something the weak would do-- Right?

Being weak, meant pity. Being weak, meant being trampled on.

Being weak, meant that you’d be dependent on someone else.

Being weak, meant that you had no rights to object to the strong’s definition of “good.”

Being weak meant that you can’t do anything.

Being weak, was me.

I wanted to prove to nobody but myself, that I wasn’t weak.

Even in death, I wanted to be more than the whim of my words and the words of others.

But if even this was weak, then what is strength?

Tell me, if I want nothing to do with myself, who do I turn to instead?

Tell me, if it wasn’t strength that made me turn to killing him, if it wasn’t strength that prevented me from embracing death when I’d yearned for it, if it wasn’t strength that helped me survive so far--

Please. Someone, teach me how to be strong.

I’m tired of this futile chase.

I felt the rain fall against my bloodied face, a frigid caress that soothed my pain.

With heavy-lidded eyes, they bore impassively into the black sockets of the Adjucha.

It had me hung on the tip of the two scythe-like arms, the tattered and stained rain coat impaled along the edges, holding me up as though I were some trophy-- A bloodstained medal, dangling feebly in the wind, arms dead at the sides, red running down my fingertips and off the sleeves of the jacket, dripping down onto the flooded ground to merge with the rushing waters, soon to disappear altogether.

The Adjucha said something, but it fell on deaf ears, every warble and syllable coming out all wrong and distorted, muffled and faraway.

Everything was fading into the background, like I was sinking deeper into bottomless water and falling further from the surface, the light of the sun fading as I sunk into the unfathomable depths-- I stubbornly struggled and writhed for air-- Hanging on for as long as I and my body could. An endless descension.

My vision blurred, as though for one final time. I saw the Adjucha below me, open it’s mouth, extending it’s jaw out as far as it could, jagged teeth baring themselves at me from below, fangs protruding from the sickly violet of it’s gums, a long hiss emitting from it’s throat, vocalizing it’s satisfaction at procuring it’s dying victim.

It lowered me down towards it’s mouth-- I shut my eyes, the last traces of my Blut Vene fading completely as my body lapsed into a state of weakness, all ounces of energy draining. This was it.

I was, going to die.

And even in spite of that, my conviction to live

was steadfast.

I opened my eyes-- Looking instead up to the darkened skies, the faint light of a waning crescent moon casting a glow in the grey midnight, past the cloud covers and the stream of rain, a silver glow on each droplet, silver jewels blinking in and out of existence. In a trance, almost, everything except the soft whisper of the rain just wasn’t there, the world quieting, my mind tuning out the chaos, the agony.

The rain, and my death.

That was all I was focused on now.

And because I was so, I hardly noticed the presence of another being. Except, their presence was so sharp-- Distinct, and crystalline. Not as suffocating and strangling as the Adjuchas’ was, resembling the light amidst blackness, like a sword cutting and cleaving through the turmoil of a battlefield. It was like a breath of fresh air, like the thick smog had been cleared from around me-- Yet, I was the only one reacting to the presence, as though it was purposefully concealed. I willed my eyes to open at least a bit wider, grunting as another few streaks of blood trickled from my mouth.

The world seemed to slow. The rain danced and glittered in it’s translucent nature, and the moon finally broke through those gloomy clouds, harbingers of those divine tears. What raspy breath that had still remained in my lungs hitched in my throat, as that presence closed the proximity between themselves and the Adjucha and I, in a blink. My eyes could see clearly now-- As though fate itself desired for me to bear witness to the course of events that would play out. The indigo blue glow of the night skies, and the darkened clouds overhead-- The moons pale light enveloped and reflected against each individual water droplet, the melancholic and ethereal scene stretching out before me. It was a resplendent moment, although a mere few breaths long--

Yet, nothing would ever be on par, with the ephemeral trail of that sword cutting seamlessly through the neck of my killer, an opalescent gleam that severed the bonds of life within the Adjucha. That same blade cleaved the skull off, bones, flesh-- Rending them to closely fixed morsels that fell apart as the sword sliced completely through the body of the serpent. It moved with calculated precision and accuracy, fluidly gliding out into the air and back. The remorseless wielding of the sword was steady and unwavering, practiced time and time again.

I could see it, the immeasurable expertise and strength of the one holding the blade in their hands, purely through the manner in which they cut down the Hollow. I was transfixed.

It was a kind of beauty all on it’s own-- A murderous beautiful.

The larger blade was a longer sword, a carved edge of unbroken steel, though it was missing it’s structural centerpiece. The tip of the blades seemed to glow with a fiery orange and deep reds, as though it had been lit aflame. The much shorter sword was likened to that of a dagger, although slightly larger-- It too, was illuminated by a blazing light of dimming gold.

I had no words-- Not even as I realized he’d cut away the limbs still piercing my jacket and had freed me from their hold-- Not even as I began to fall to the ground, unable to muster up any energy to lessen the impact.

I was awakened from my trance-- “sh*t-” I groaned, shutting my eyes to brace for the possibility that perhaps my death was still inevitable.

But it never came.

I slowly opened my eyes, swallowing back a hard lump in my throat as I saw the dark pavement far down below me, stifling a gasp. I felt a tightness at my back, my arms drooping downwards as I felt my rain jacket shift, as though something were holding me.

I forced my head to turn to the side, and craned over to look up at what had caught and prevented me from plummeting to my death--

The first thing I saw were his peculiar eyes, or rather, eye. The moonlight glared from behind him as the clouds receded, the rain falling in smaller drizzles. Piercing iris’s of a unique silver stared at me, the whites of his eyes replaced with a blackish shade of indigo. As soon as eye contact was established, those eyes narrowed, as though assessing me, raking over my mangled condition. His right eye was obscured by some manner of black cloth, while some other fabric concealed the bottom half of his face. The swords that were once held in his hands had seemingly vanished altogether, and instead, I could see out of the corner of my eye, a single sheathe coloured of maroon that was strung behind him.

The second thing I noticed was his hair, a crimson shade resembling the striking shade of autumn leaves, that fell along the front and sides of his face, the rest tied up into a short ponytail at the back as he turned his head and scanned his surroundings briefly.

Finally, his attire-- A Soul Reaper. The recognizable black robe, the shihakusho was in dire need of repair, the left half of the robe was gone, revealing a tightly bandaged body, the protective coverings trailing down the length of his left arm and down to the fingertips. The right half was in a bit of a battered condition, but was intact, the thick long sleeves billowing out behind his arm as a gust of wind sailed past him.

I felt the coat shift around my body as he adjusted his tight grip on it, and I was too stunned and also shocked to move a muscle out of fear I might cause him to drop me-- I instantly tensed up, but that caused a stab of pain to travel along the length of my back and gut, and I winced.

The shinigami remained silent as his gaze eventually settled on me again. He’d saved me-- He could probably let me down now, on safe ground, yet he held me out in front of him, staring blankly at me.

sh*t. Had I offended him? I swear on what life left I have, I wasn’t staring excessively.

I can’t read him. I mustered up the courage to form words--

I coughed up blood as I attempted speech, but I managed to form at least some coherent string of syllables.

“Gugh- Th-thank you-. Sorry-- I--” I was suddenly interrupted by him.

“You were nearly killed.” His voice rung low, a wearied tone of reprimand, a blunt statement.

“Those reports, however, were attested to, it seems.” The man gave a small “tsk.”

Reports? What in the hell was he referring to? I was rooted in confusion.

I didn’t have any energy to demand answers however, as my eyes began to drift closed.

sh*t.. I was still going to die. This man saved me for nothing.

“..God, I really took on this task-” He cursed, cutting himself off as he caught wind of my fading consciousness, “Hey. Don’t fall asleep here. Damnit to hell-..” I felt him adjust his grip, and I was suddenly thrown over his shoulder, and I coughed again, the abrupt handling startling me awake. I couldn’t so much voice my protest or even struggle, but really, what would the use be now that I was practically at death's door? I could only lie there, as the world became a blur, the cityscape and skies flying by us as he traversed the open air silently, the speed at which he moved eventually bringing us to another garden, the nearest to my apartment. I felt sick as the high-speed movement caught up to my mortal body.

My breaths drew in and out shakily, and black began to surround my field of vision in specks, each laboured inhale and exhale shuddering as my lungs refused to take in any more oxygen. The Soul Reaper laid me against the trunk of a tall tree, the grass rustling as I was set down onto the ground. A sharp exhale, muffled beneath his cloak was one of the last sounds I heard, as my shoulders started to slump and lie slack, open-palmed hands fallen at my sides.

A crisp resonance, the ringing of two blades-- Then a flash of light, smoldering heat wafting off of them, the embers glowing, as darkness claimed me entirely.

Was he going to take my life himself? Something doubted it, but death dealing was for the Soul Reapers, so it would make perfect sense.. But what would the use be? Some kind of honour?

My eyes closed, feeling my life slipping away from hands that clutched it tightly, releasing it to dissolve with the wind. The clouds, had ceased their weeping, the skies clearing to reveal a breathtaking collection of stars, glittering their short life of glorious radiance for all to see.

“Your time hasn’t arrived yet.”

Those words reached me from above the surface, as I sunk into those cold black depths, drowning in it’s falsely loving embrace.

…

The rain stopped.

The cold currents of the sea pulled me downwards, the light of the surface fading from view, sun rays a bleary white as it broke through those dark depths, now seemingly years away from my fingertips. Numb to everything but the glacier-like kiss of the waters, seeing all but the deep blue and night-like darkness enveloping me.

Bubbles floated and danced up towards the surface, shining orbs of pockets of air. I wasn’t the one breathing, yet the disturbance of foam and churning interrupted my descension into death. I moved slowly, and glided my arms around me to turn my heavy body. It seemed impossible to even lift a single hand, as though invisible hands chained me to still. Yet, with what waning feeling I had left in frigid blood and bone, I maneuvered myself to face whatever had been the source of those bubbles, hearing a faraway, near melodic sound that managed to reach me from the bottomless abyss, and the dark leered back at me as I tried powerlessly to find anyone other than myself. Those bubbles came rushing towards me in a frenzy, an excitable nacreous swarm that caused me to involuntarily shut my eyes--

They opened, as I heard my name.

The black ghostly apparition materialized in front of me, the bubbles retreating. The single-blood red iris gazed at me with an unusual mercy and sorrow. Emotion, for the very first time in it’s eye. It’s crimson smile was no longer, and ceased to exist on it’s replication of a face. Tendril-like limbs, resembling arms and hands, fingers, reached towards me, and I could only submit as I fell slack once more, my own body no longer mine to wield.

I felt the touch of something against my shoulders-- An unwelcoming blizzard of contact, unbelievably colder than the waters around me, to the point where it it hurt me. That pain seared through my entire body, as though death wasn’t enough torture for me already. However, it disappeared as soon as it came, fading into nothingness.

Those hands pushed me up towards the surface, and I could sense, the sole motivation it had through it’s action--

It’s desire to live. A simple plead.

I had fallen into these waters, cast away to sign my final passing.

Yet the black apparition, that had been a source of my fear and haunting, pulled me up towards where the living resided, as though it’s prior opposition mattered no more to it.

“...Who-.. Are you?...” My breath was a whisper, and I doubted it heard me. It didn’t stop for a moment, tugging a frail corpse up to the light and away from the abyssal jaws of the grave.

The light shone blindingly as we neared the edge of it’s waters.

To my surprise, a distorted, two-toned voice responded to my feeble question.

I could hardly hear it’s answer.

“..I am-..” The rest was cut off, a warble as a strong pressure tore through those waters, shoving violently against the black apparition and I--

It was ripped from me, and strangely, the absence caused my dying heart to ache.

It’s efforts, had not been in vain, as I was taken in by the light above, and broke the surface.

I shot up, my breath quick, heaving in and out with ragged inhales and exhales. I blinked, stunned into a profound silence, frantically looking about. Sweat dropped from my brow, a hand coming up to clutch at the robes. My heart throbbed in my chest, a strong pulse that made me realize--

I wasn’t dead. By some miracle.

I could hardly recall the dream I had, of the sea. I was, dying. Wasn’t I supposed to be dead?

“You’re alive.”

A gruff voice came from somewhere, answering the question within my mind. I swiveled my head around-- Only to feel dizzy, and my hand rubbed at my eyes. Was I still dreaming? No. The white walls, the ceiling, even the smell of the room I came to recognize gradually, was my own living room. The unmistakable and specific furniture lay about the room in the organized fashion I’d positioned them before. I glanced down at my body, now donning some sort of white robe akin to hospital garments-- Except, it had thin mid-length sleeves likened to that of a jinbei, a lightweight piece of clothing. I felt sore, as one of my arms came up, inspecting the clothing almost instantly and curiously, for a moment, forgetting that there was someone else in the room-

Someone else, in the room. The voice hadn’t sounded familiar, it wasn’t Ayabara, or any one of my friends or family-- I couldn’t place a finger on it, my memories fuzzy, a black and white static in my head.

As my brows furrowed together in frustration, I felt a sudden prickle behind me, and without thinking, I stifled a gasp of horror and shock as I turned and held an arm up in defense to the intrusion--

A red-haired man stood several arm lengths away from where I was laid on the couch.

The events of last night came flooding back in the form of a tidal wave, crashing over me.

The visit to Ayabara, the Adjucha-- My near death, and this Shinigami, who had saved me from it.

His arms were folded, one bandaged arm over the other sleeved one, and he blinked once as he stared at me wordlessly.

I struggled to find words, my mouth slightly agape as I recounted my experience, and my loss of consciousness. I had so many questions, disbeliefs and suspicions I utterly failed to voice aloud, lowering the arm that had come up to instinctively activate Blut Vene. He raised one eyebrow as he watched it lower, his gaze flicking over to the stupefied expression on my face. I was confounded, conflicted as I processed every single thought with a groggy brain.

“You- You’re..” I began, my tongue proving some functionality. The red-haired Shinigami blinked again.

“What.. Are you doing in my home, exactly?” I nearly laughed aloud at the first question, out of an infinite number of questions I could’ve asked, I demanded the answer to his trespassing. Really.

He blinked a third time and I swore I could’ve seen the briefest flash of amusem*nt in those unique eyes of his, and he uncrossed his arms.

“..I didn’t really have anywhere else to put you. I wouldn’t have cauterized your wo-”

“I’m sorry, you burnt my wounds?” I shot back with flabbergast, interrupting him, and I stopped before I could launch into some terrified rant. His shoulders sagged, and he sighed.

“Yes. To put a stop to the bleeding, I resorted to that. Which is why you were better off unconscious during the process.” The man looked away momentarily.

“But, you couldn’t have fixed a broken skull with solely that method, how did you manage t-”

It was his turn to interrupt me this time.

“Kaido. Not my own, though. Three, who specialized in it, I called in, begrudgingly.”

His eyes narrowed at the statement, still looking away, as though he were hesitant to ask for help at all. I came to the conclusion that he wasn’t proficient in the art of healing--Though I’d read that for anyone to know anything at all, it was a rare skill.

“..I see.” I nodded. I looked down at my arms, examining their condition. There were faint markings, scars from the cuts and gashes I’d been inflicted with, however, they were treated to the point where they’d lost their usual fresh, reddish appearance, and were simply a degree darker than my own skin. The large laceration I’d received as the Adjucha had sliced my lower abdomen, was no longer an immeasurable source of pain. I had recovered, at least, majority recovered. I still felt the slight soreness in my back, and it only stung to move my forearms.

“Thank you.” I gave a small bow as I sat, dipping my head low, wincing as I felt another throb.

The red-haired Shinigami’s gaze darted back towards me, but gave no response to my words.

I lifted my head, and he stared back. He wasn’t much of a talker, it seemed, having only initiated bare conversation with the words I heard as I awoke from a dream I couldn’t remember.

“However, and I apologize for probing, but, what was your reason for saving me?”

It was another foolish question, but, I had the feeling that he wasn’t the type of person to stay around once he’d finished the act of rescuing someone, and would leave the care to someone else. Perhaps I was judging wrong.

No, really, Katja, of course someone would at least try to prolong the life of the one they’d saved. It was also tradition for any family or friend to look after the person’s condition even after they’d received adequate treatment. This shinigami however, was far from friend or family. Perhaps it was the kindness of a stranger.

I would probably do the same thing. Yet, there was a gut feeling, a hunch maybe, that this man hadn’t saved me out of pure goodness.

“...”

He was silent now. Was he trying to find the right words, or maybe he was hesitant to say the truth?

“I chose to.”

A lie.

“That’s not it.” I countered, but kept my tone level and flat. I slowly got up from the couch, standing up, and faced him fully. If he had ulterior motives, I had to deduce them now. I doubted he had malicious intentions, yet it remained in the area of possibility.

The red-haired man followed me with his eyes as I shifted to the right, away from the furniture.

“It is.” Another lie. I tensed suddenly, as I saw his hand draw back towards his sheathe. What was he..

Before I could open my mouth, he spoke up.

“If you’re not satisfied with my words, then that’s a shame.”

“What do you mean? I’m merely demanding an answer.” I kept my voice from rising.

“I’m unable to provide, then.” His fingers enclosed around the handle. He drew it from the sheathe, holding it by his side, the single sword gleaming.

Was he trying to provoke me? Or was he goading me into trying to beat him for a concise and simple answer? Is he trying to make me, fight for it?

My hands clenched at my sides, the remainders of the bandages tightening around my wrists and hands.

I didn’t have time to play around with him. If he wasn’t going to give me answers, I wasn’t going to attempt to struggle against him for them.

“I’ll look for them elsewhere then.” I dropped my guard, putting two hands up in the air in a sign of submission. I turned, and started towards my room--

I felt the smallest shiver of wind behind me, and instantly, I put up my forearms in front of me as I spun, activating Blut Vene.

The shinigami, had swung the dull side of the blade directly at me, without warning. Although it hadn’t been the sharper end of the sword, what intent I felt from the swing had been to kill. It rung against my body, and I shook, as he drove it further with a single hand-- Mimicking the lethal blow the Adjucha had done.

My anger flared up briefly, and I directed his blow away from me, pushing it along as sparks flew with a metallic clang, blue veins lighting up-- And it disappeared abruptly, and I stumbled back, avoiding the blade in disbelief, as I watched it recede.

I still hadn’t recovered my energy, and as I let my guard down for a single second, the dull side of the blade cut through the air and stopped at the side of my neck.

“And who, will be willing to give them to you.” The question wasn’t one at all, rhetorical.

“You’re dead now.” I locked eyes with the shinigami, and I froze as I saw myself reflected in them--

My neck bleeding, gutted open.

I shivered, tensing up, breath trapped in my throat and not daring to move.

“Pitiful.”

He lowered the blade, sheathing it, knowing full well I didn’t have the courage to retaliate. His eyes were still on mine, and I wouldn’t dare look away out of the fear I’d be found dead if I blinked.

“You’re weak.” He didn’t step away, the statement settling in the air.

“They won’t hear you.” His voice was muffled beneath the black cloak he wore, yet it conveyed his words clear as day. I swallowed a hard lump in my throat, and defeatedly, I broke eye contact with him, bitterly resigning myself to the conclusion that revealed itself to me in an instant.

Even after the ordeal, I was still, considered weak. What was the use of strength, if it didn’t keep me alive for even a day longer?

What was the use of strength, if I depended on others to clean up the mess I’ve made?

…

“You’re unable to form your spirit bow.”

My gaze snapped over to him. Did he know everything about me?

“..I know.” I muttered. My hands gripped the other behind my back, as I again turned to face him.

He now stood near the open balcony, turned towards the open skies. No breeze, only a still sunny day.

“Katja, the Ishida lineage will end here with you if you continue to live like this.”

He knew my name? I didn’t even know his-- How was it that he knew of my whereabouts, my conditions, my limitations, almost as if he had been sent to save me.

Why was he here, lecturing me?

“I’ll give you a choice, Ishida.” The red-haired Shinigami didn’t look back at me.

“Either, you become my student, and I teach you how to wield your powers properly” he paused, and I saw his eyes lower as they looked back at me, “or you die, here.” The coldness in his gaze appeared once more, a sharp knife at my throat as he threatened my survival with it’s end.

“Choose.”

That, was his purpose for being here. He’d answered all of my questions.

But, a Shinigami, teaching a Quincy-- Was that possible? I knew nothing about this man, whether or not he knew how the Quincies harnessed their powers and used it, was unknown. How long he would train me for, and how quick? I didn’t have the near endless lifespan of a Shinigami, who knows how long it would take to teach me the basics from scratch, with almost nothing to work with?

Despite my doubts and conflictions, the truth that I’d be the cause of the diminishing of a precious bloodline was unforgivable, and although I’d tried to push that thought away it emerged once more. It was the purpose of my existence, really. If I failed to fulfill even that, then, what was I? It would be my undoing, for the rest of what life I had in store, if I had any at all.

That ghostly figure flashed once more in my mind-- Images of it pushing me up towards the surface, defying death itself. It had strived for that goal, and had succeeded. It was a stranger to me, and for it to suddenly manifest itself and struggle to preserve my life-- I’m sure that it had seen something in me worth more than my body in a tomb, more than just another soul to succumb to the hands of death.

I only had one answer. I had no choice. If this was the path to strength, although one I couldn’t see clearly, it would be one I had to walk on my own eventually. All that awaited me if I refused to travel that road, were the boney hands of hell, reaping the life I’d once fought and killed for.

I wondered, if this Shinigami knew that there was already blood on my hands.

No. I couldn’t shy away from this chance now.

The blonde woman stepped up to the trial, to understand what strength she’d eventually attain.

The blade was picked from the tableside, donning a new master.

The flames died down, all except the one lit within the soul of the woman.

Held in the hands of another, she trusted the guidance of the one before her, bracing for the battles ahead of her short life. The blade wasn’t forever, but the heart and soul of it would put a bloody stain on the legacies of others, the experiences never forgotten. Was strength in the blade, in the wielder, or in both? Was it to protect, or to kill--

She’d learn, what strength she’d possess with time.

Those embers rose to a blaze, morphing into black flames that reached up the walls of her soul, burning away.

The spirit laughed, scorching away at the woman’s restraints on it, locked in it’s prison of crushing weight and chains.

It had begun.

“I’m willing to learn.”

I exhaled. The Shinigami remained silent. He only nodded.

“However, may I at least, receive an answer to this final question I have?”

“..What is it?” It seemed like he was in agreement.

“What is your name?” I drew my feet together, hands at my side. Moments passed, before he gave an answer.

A cool breeze rustled about the room, and I recalled the night of rain. The beauty of the sword, and the pale moon.

“Ryosuke Aizen.” He replied, finally.

So that was his name, the name of the man who’d chosen to take me on as his student-- Who, in all aspects, was a being who dealt with the manners of death in all forms, and was now dealing with that of the living.

Ironic, to oppose the norms of his existence and go as far as to teach someone so unalike him, one he couldn’t relate to. I imagine that his own comrades wouldn’t appreciate this borderline traitorous gesture.

..Was I going to have a rogue for a teacher?

Not that it mattered much to me.

Defiance. If there was anything I would’ve grasped from his teachings, this would’ve been the first he’d taught me without actually educating me formally.

He noticed the smallest twitch of my mouth, as I tried to withhold a smile. A deadpan expression fell over his face, and he crossed his arms. I’d been threatened with death, twice. That was going to increase tenfold, I foresaw.

“..What are you laughing at?” His voice was not so much scornful, but instead took on a dry tone, a brow raising.

“Nothing.” I replied, keeping a trembling voice stable. I had no idea what I was laughing about specifically, and perhaps there was no one reason. Maybe he thought I was laughing at his name? After all, it was the last thing he’d said.

“..Lying already, huh.” Ryosuke exhaled sharply, rubbing at his temples as though he were already sick and tired of a job he had yet to do. For a moment, he appeared much older than he looked with the way in which he griped about it.

“..Sorry. I was merely thinking about how I would have to address you. Aizen-sama.”

“Another lie. Just use my first name. I have--” He cut himself off, clearing his throat, “Just use my first name.”

I was curious as to why he suddenly stopped, but waved it off.

“..May I ask another question?”

“..Now what.”

“How old are you, exactly? I know Soul Reapers lead on much longer lives than us. I mean no offense, you don’t look too old, but--”

“...Right. Let’s get you recruited first.”

He avoided the question this time.

“I don’t think you can keep up with me if I use shunpo, so I think I’ll carry you again.”

“What?”

“Stand here-”

“No thanks- Wait, hold on, back up, what are you-”

“I said stand. Here. You chose this, to be my student.”

“Yes but you aren’t a dictator-”

“Katja. Stand. Here.”

“Understood, Ryosuke-sama.”

Soon enough I was slung over his shoulder like a bag of rice or potatoes, with almost no effort on his part.

I shoved down a shriek as we jumped off the balcony and soared up into the skies, the world spinning.

“Have you ever heard of Menos Forest, Katja?” The question was called out into the rushing wind as we leapt over the small towns and cities towards a destination I had yet to be informed of.

“I’ve only read about it in- Textbooks!-.. I heard that you need to jump down into a gorge in Hueco Mundo, and you’ll end up there.”

“Correct. Defy me again and I’ll throw you there.” His voice took on a casual expression, as though the threat was air. “I am only so lenient.” I slumped against his shoulders, gritting my teeth and sourly looking down below me. From what I could grasp, he was definitely older than he looked, with the old authoritarian means of punishment.

“..I’ll try my best.” I muttered, sighing exasperatedly.

I wondered if I’d be killed in the process of my training.

I also wondered if this was the worst decision of my life.

-End Of Event-

Chapter 10: Bonus - Clad In Black Adorned With Ichor

Chapter Text

No. They are not a ship. Teacher, student. Yes.

(Thought of this while listening to Doll, Antihoney)

Katja is like the unrefined sword. Ryosuke is the blade master, and knows how a blade should be wielded and shaped. Katja, is also like a suffocating tree/spruce, strangled by the climbing/dog strangling vines, as they’re parasitic and sap the life out of what the tree gains for itself. Those vines represent the hold her husband’s abuse had, along with the oppression and upbringing her parents had followed when raising Katja. She didn’t know any better, and only knew what life was like with those vines around her.

Meanwhile,Ryosuke is the gardener, in a sense. He’s an expert to the point where he is able to cultivate almost anything, any plant, and protect his garden against the ravages of hostile plant-life, such as those vines.

Katja never knew true freedom, true strength. Even as she freed herself from those vines, as she emerged from the furnace, it was like she was born all over again-- Helpless as a baby despite being an adult, vulnerable and naive, knowing not what she wanted anymore now that her life had drastically changed. She wasn’t used to this newfound freedom, and always had someone telling her what to do, telling her what was right.

She was used to being taken advantage of, and had normalized it-- Always owing favours, feeling over-indebted to people, being manipulated into a false sense of security. Aoto wouldn’t allow her to grow strong herself, and needed her to depend on him, just as he depended on her for what he wanted and needed.

In a way, Ryosuke had come along and completely severed the rest of what vines were stubbornly clinging to her.

Yes, Katja had broken free from those restraints, but the fear and old parables/lessons from her days as a child still very much affected her and prevented her from moving forward. She had a lot to recover from. She’d watched her classmates, her best friend Ayabara, sprout up to the sky, while her own growth was stunted-- Although she never admits it, she was jealous and terribly lonely, having felt alone in her situation as she was left behind down below.

When Ryosuke came into the picture however, he was blunt, frank, and allowed no room for her self-pity, and had taught her on areas she was missing development in, namely her abilities as a Quincy. Although it was probably a spontaneous decision on his part, he had cut away the rest of those vines, and picked up the lone sword sitting aside the fire place. He raised her up and taught her how to grow, how to stand when she was told to kneel and bow her head. With his guidance, she’d caught up with her peers. I wouldn’t say that it was a near parental dynamic between them, but rather that it was solely student and teacher, along with some kinship on part of Katja.

He wouldn’t allow her to “do favours” for him, or order her around outside of training and do chores for him.

It was basically nature for Katja to want to repay and keep the other person elevated, putting herself dangerously first before the other-- Ryosuke didn’t allow any of that, dismissing any thanks she had and waving it off.

I’m pretty sure that he somehow knew what kind of person she was, and what upbringing she’d been through despite them being strangers all Katja’s life. He was probably careful, I’d say, and avoided “taking advantage,” even if it wasn’t really the case in one circ*mstance. I guess he doesn’t really like being indebted to another person too (considering his past that was supposed to be one of servitude and loyalty, with the twisted feudal system and all, that didn’t exactly work out for him).

So, Katja is extremely grateful towards him, and is of course, troubled and perplexed on his constant rejection of her gratitude, but soon learns to accept that he is just who he is.

Mentor and student, and strictly that I’d suppose. Katja recognizes his seniority of course and respects him. She said that she’d revered him once, and he told her NOT to do that. Like, not to place him on too high of a pedestal (or no pedestal at all). I’d think that he probably remembers his slaughter as well and claims he doesn’t deserve much because he’s killed a few hundred and much more.

Laughable, if they’re alike in that way.

-End Of Author’s Note-

Chapter 11: Event: Toodles, Training Days!

Chapter Text

*crickets chirping* i promise ill write smth here, duh.

Chapter 12: Event: Damning Ghost Pestering.

Chapter Text

“Damn it, you fool!”

The blonde woman tipped her hat back as she sat against the shelter of a tree, giving minimal reaction to the shrill voice beside her. Her soured mood only continued to seep in further, a miserable stinging in her throat as she silently clenched her teeth together under the white mask.

After a painfully close match, victory slipping out of her hands and falling to the floor like spoiled ice-cream, the Quincy woman needed a few moment’s of respite to collect her thoughts and cool the frustration within her.

After sparring with a shinigami of the Kurosaki lineage, and nearly winning the last match that would’ve summed up the matches as a “draw,” and proceeded to lose-- The woman could only lie there defeatedly and bitterly at her lack of accomplishment, reflecting on her errors. The bright blue skies failed to reflect her mood, which only sullied it further, as it glared down at her like a spotlight, illuminating her failures for all to see.

Though, she knew she was overreacting. She’d gotten close enough, perhaps if she pushed herself against her bad habits, she’d one day win all 4 matches. And she was determined to make that happen very soon. She was just about to grasp a newfound energy to rise from her sullen state--

Eidolon however, was full of energy to spice up the taste of defeat, as it swerved out in front of Katja, jabbing a long black finger at the battle-spent woman, waking Katja out of the grandiose of a future victory.

“Tell me, lady, do you find pleasure in losing 3 out of 4 matches? Not only that, but you couldn’t even call whatever THAT mess of offense and defense, BATTLE. Just what the hell were you thinking, throwing me all around and expecting me to do something about your lack of swordsmanship and strategy?!” Anger caused the black spirit’s voice to rise to an ear-grating pitch, and it seemed to blink in and out of existence, trembling with fury as though the volcanic eruption of it’s emotions caused it’s spiritual composition to become unstable. The red slit of a mouth was an upside down crescent of displeasure, it’s dissatisfaction and annoyance taking over what expression it could show on it’s mockery of a face. The usually grinning, and eerily beaming Eidolon, was in an even worser mood than Katja herself, consumed with wrathful vigor.

The blonde woman deadpanned, weary eyes boring into the faceless ghost. As much as she’d like to argue against it’s words, it was the hard truth of the battle-- She had neglected to use it properly, failing to fulfill any creative outcomes when it came down to Eidolon. Those boxes remained unchecked, and with a long sigh, Katja slumped against the tree.

“..Do we really have to do this now? Huh?..” The woman groaned, knowing full well that the inquiry was useless to her, as she already knew the answer.

“Don’t give me that bullsh*t! You’re the reason you lost, and in fact you wouldn’t win a battle even if your life depended on it!-”

Katja snapped, the humidity, the too-bright-skies, everything around her seemed to push her buttons.

Especially, her own Schrift spirit.

“Why can’t you be a bit more useful than that of Sophie’s water clones? If you have time to spend moaning and arguing with me, you have time to lay down in the grave and stay there for all I care, you loud-mouthed good for nothing.” The woman’s voice lowered to a snarl, glowering at the black spectre who refused to shut it’s mouth.

“Are you calling me useless? You, of all people? If you’re so ungrateful, perhaps you can beg Sophie to lend your hopeless self some of those mindless water clones. Hope you like silence, bitch.”

“Yes, actually, I think I prefer silence when it comes from you only. Unfortunately you somehow lack the ability to shut up, you tantruming child.” Katja chided, infuriating her Schrift’s ghost.

“I’m incapable of taping your vile-tongued mouth closed for good. However-”

The black ghost, realizing that Katja was about to de-activate her Schrift, suddenly flared up into red flames, it’s size increasing tenfold.

“What are you-” As Katja attempted to deactivate her Schrift, and finding that it refused to work, she cursed under her breath.

“... Again?” She stood up, grimacing.

“You aren’t rid of me so easily, you prick. You can only suppress my abilities, not my physical presence, remember? I only submit to you when you ---------------------------------------. If I will my form to stay outside the exterior of your cage, then you won’t be able to tune out my words, you inconsiderate swine.”

A part of Eidolon’s words had become distorted and unintelligible. The first occurrence in a while, since she’d achieved Vollstandig.

“.. So be it.” Katja stood up, adjusting her uniform and the cap. She decided that she’d instead, seek the company of others in order to distract herself from Eidolon. It was better than wallowing in her misery.

“You’re going to ignore me? Oh, how so awe-inspiringly mature of you, miss Ishida.”

“I’m so glad you have enough basic intellect to come to that conclusion. Want a medal?” Came a wry reply from the blonde woman, waving Eidolon away as it appeared in front of her.

“Ha! At least I get one.”

“Oh, so much fun. When’s the pity party for your celebratory medal?”

“You’re not even invited to that one.”

“I doubt anyone’s attending that one anyways. More of a funeral. I wouldn’t cry though.”

“Was that a lame play on my being of a ghost? You make me sick.”

“Right back at you. You reek of decomposing flesh, would cremating you help?”

“Fire, huh? Not even that old red-haired bastard could burn me away. On the other hand, perhaps you’d look prettier in an urn.”

“Such flattery. Regrettably however, nothing in the world could make you look even slightly appealing.”

This banter continued on, even extending past their arrival within the confines of the Wandenreich. Either side refused to lose to the piling layering of insults and spiteful comments.

Sophie was a witness to this, blinking owlishly as she witnessed the two fighting one another like an ex and their once-partner. She’d returned from exterminating and raiding a rogue Shinigami’s operation base, fighting endlessly to achieve her goal- Only to return to even more violence, verbal form this time. Her water clones peeked out from behind her, one of the larger and well-rounded ones turning it’s head to face the young girl, as Sophie nodded as she heard it’s commentary on the situation.

“Mhm! I don’t think we should interfere though. Oh? Really? Mmm.. I guess I could stop her when it gets to be too much.” Sophie peered over at the woman and the black spirit beside her as they walked towards her, pouting as she saw the frown on her friend’s face. The larger water clone split into smaller ones beside Sophie, giving a small “sploosh” and gargle before regaining shape, the volume of water sloshing around at her feet-- To retreat behind the legs of it’s master as the black wisps of Eidolon moved too close, tiny water droplets resembling fingers clutching onto the pants of the uniform. Puddles of water reduced the snow to slush and ice.

“Oii! Katjaa! What’chya doing with Eidolon?” Sophie bounded towards the taller woman, smiling innocently and pretending she was ignorant to the situation. Having Katja explain her plight would only cause more fatigue.. So she opted for a more indirect approach. A light snowfall dusted the air, and Sophie sneezed a small one. One of the water clones dabbed at her face before drooping back to the ground, scanning their environment as they burbled amongst themselves. Animated silver eyes stared into Katja’s, glittering with curiosity.

At the interruption, Eidolon crossed it’s arms and fell silent-- one long finger tapping impatiently on the opposite arm. Katja also stopped her momentary angered rant, and turned to address her fellow friend.

“..Discussing battle tactics. You could say it’s an expert, but I disagree.” The blonde woman took to casually jab at Eidolon while it wasn’t speaking, her tone leveling out with only a hint of sarcasm. Several of the water clones looked at one another behind Sophie, their speech unheard by both the older Quincy and Eidolon, assessing the situation-- You could nearly call it gossip, and Sophie had her ears open to them.

“Really? You know, any time you need some pointers for fighting,” Sophie did a mock salute, grinning teasingly, “I can supply! I got plenty of experience, trust me!” She lowered the cybernetic left arm, taking a moment to shush her water clones as their garbles grew louder. They instantly quieted, bobbing their heads up and down as they followed the request.

“Say, I’ve never really heard Eidolon speak before.. I’ve only heard small snippets here and there, but I’ve never experienced what it’s like to uh,” she peered at Eidolon, who had stopped it’s finger tapping at the mention of itself, “have full conversation with a ghost.” Sophie ushered one of her water clones forward, as the blonde woman listened.

“I can only ever speak to my water clones! They’re all like their own person, different each time, different form, but after all these years, I can recognize them. I also named them all! Isn’t it awesome?” The water clones seemed to ripple in response to this statement, some of them jumping up and down-- Katja wondered if that made them happy. She pointedly glanced at Eidolon-- And wondered if she could ever please this stingy ghost of hers, as it’s head snapped over to meet her gaze-- And flipped her off. Katja exhaled tiredly through the mouth.

“It’s wonderful that you’ve acquainted yourself with those water clones. I don’t think I’ve ever heard them speak before, so you’ll have to introduce me to each one. I presume it’s similar to my case between Eidolon and I; It’s voice is only heard by me, until it wills it.” Attention was geared fully towards Sophie, and paid no heed to Eidolon as it continually flipped her off out of the corner of her eye. Sophie caught wind of it’s actions, but as soon as she did, Eidolon stopped, and gave a small wave to the younger Quincy. Sophie slowly waved back, hiding her surprise.

“Ohh? That’s the same case with me and my water friends! Except, no matter what they or I do.. They can’t be heard by anyone else.” Sophie seemed to wilt a little, shaking her head sadly as her water clones began playing tag around her-- Not really running, but sloshing around trying to prevent the other from combining with another. Katja voiced her amusem*nt with a small hum. It seemed that even her water clones possessed the child-like nature of her dear friend, as they played without a care in the world, sliding about, even daring to run circles around Katja and Eidolon.

Almost teasingly, Eidolon darted out a wispy hand towards one of the slower water clones that passed by, and the blob of water whirled from Eidolon’s black hand in a torrent, the surface undulating frenzily before it’s flames could touch it, skittering away as though the Schrift spirit was diseased with leprosy. With a sharp gasp, Katja reigned in Eidolon, like a dog on a leash, and profusely apologized to the water clone, and turned to Sophie to do the same. “sh*t- I’m terribly sorry, Haschwalth-sa- I mean, Sophie, and, to your water clones. Damnit..” Katja had a miniature heart-attack, and Eidolon, who found her frazzled state hilarious, began cackling--

And Sophie heard it. Her face now shimmering with curiosity and delight upon hearing Eidolon for the first time, she beamed, fascinated by (in her view) an otherworldly occurrence. The young girl had faced trouble when it came down to her water clones communication with other people and creatures, but now that Eidolon had willed it’s voice into being heard for the first time, perhaps Eidolon and her water clones could relay messages to one another!

Like some.. Cool humanized telephone system? It would be a hassle.. But it would be worth it if she could make yet another friend, namely Eidolon.

“I just heard it laugh, Katja!” Sophie squealed, bunny hopping in place excitedly-- Like she was hyper.

“I heard Eidolon! Hey, hey, can it speak again? Or can I only hear it laugh? I want to talk to it, pleaaaaase?” The shorter Quincy gazed longingly at the black spirit, then back to Katja, then back to it again.

“See, Ishida? This ones actually fun to talk to-- Unlike your sorry ass. If only you were so eager to communicate with me as this sweet girl is, hmm?” Eidolon chuckled, nudging the blonde Quincy in the shoulder, as it allowed the ears of Sophie to once again be open to hearing it.

“Hey, Katja’s great to talk to! Or.. Is this some inside joke?” Sophie tilted her head to the side inquisitively, raising one eyebrow at the two. Katja was quick to agree with her, and Eidolon only gave a half nod.

“..Sure, you could put it that way, Sophie.” The black spirit’s head lolled to the side, the red grin reappearing on it’s empty visage. Sophie’s smile seemed to grow at Eidolon’s mention of her name. To Sophie, it made it seem like they were already friends. However, the water clones seemed to notice the increasing tension between the Schrift spirit and it’s master, and briefly spoke to Sophie as she paused to listen.

“..Ohh, right..” She nodded. Now that she could converse with Eidolon, perhaps she could ask them what the earlier dispute was all about. She’d nearly forgotten in her excitement.

“Miss Eidolon? Oh, shoot, are you a miss or a mister?”

“My, you’re so attentive. I’m a miss, thank you for asking beforehand unlike another person.”

“..You’re so cryptic at times, I could hardly ask for the details.”

“Looks like you have some comprehension issues?”

“Not at all. You’re simply the sad*st, watching me toil in my confusion helplessly.”

“Oh, dear Sophie, don’t mind her. None of that is true.”

“The only truth about you is that you’re a liar.”

“You litt-”

“Whoa, whoa! Ladies, calm it-.. I’m sure whatever’s eating at you enough can be resolved.. I was just about to ask why I saw you two arguing earlier,” Sophie held up a hand, one of her water clones rising up in front of both Quincy and spirit to divide them. She wasn’t exactly sure if any physical altercation could break out, but at this point Sophie would resort to this to prevent fights between subordinates or other parties. Katja tensed, and crossed her arms as her chest deflated, while Eidolon gave a small huff and jerked it’s head away. It appeared as though they were siblings at odds with another, sulking and giving the other the cold shoulder.

“.. Allow me to explain.” Katja began, silver eyes flicking over to Eidolon in a “shut the f*ck up for one moment please” manner, narrowing. Eidolon for once, relented, not looking at anyone or anything. Several of Sophie’s water clones slinked towards Eidolon, inspecting it while both masters were occupied.

Katja begins to recount her misfortunate loss against a shinigami, Hirohara Kurosaki. Sophie doesn’t bat an eye however towards the failure of the older Quincy, and instead nods sympathetically as the blonde lets some of her frustrations off her shoulders. As the conversation progresses and Katja explains the many dilemma’s she faces when it comes to working in harmony with Eidolon (as well as communication blockages), paired with it’s restrictions on what it says and it’s unbearable personality, Sophie’s internal gears start working in her head. The fact that it had been able to otherwise bypass it’s sealing inside the catalyst, surprised Sophie.

“Ouuhh.. I get it. Well, not really, but..” The brunette eyes her water clones, and Eidolon, “there was also a time where I had struggled with my water clones too. They’d go off on tangents, speaking about things that made no sense, chasing after opponents I wasn’t meant to face yet, causing mischief, not doing as I told them, and arguing with me too. It was like a whole big family that just didn’t like each other!”

Katja nodded, sighing as the words resonated with her.

“But eventually I had to learn how to listen to them, and you know, actually try to familiarize myself with each one. I wouldn’t say it’s a lot, because they just split into smaller and bigger versions of themselves, so with each battle and time spent with them, I had a chance to grow closer, and see them as individuals rather than some hive mind. I learned they all have different personalities-- They just didn’t know how to cooperate with each other and me because we were so new to this thing; this bond rather.” Sophie ushered one of the slower ones forth, summoning it at her feet. It bubbled curiously.

“Bah.. In a nutshell.. You have to listen to that spunky spirit you got over there. To get Eidolon to listen to you on the other hand.. I’d say it’s more or less, doing something to earn it’s respect. It goes both ways, duh.”

The smaller water clone waved a round stub at Katja, and melted into the floor as it decided it was rest time.

The Quincy woman took in her words. “Doing something to earn it’s respect,” was what had spoken to Katja profoundly. The words that Eidolon had tried to say earlier had been censored-- But the woman recalled that Eidolon was about to mention the conditions that were required for it to fully bow to her. Those conditions had been left unfulfilled, enabling Eidolon to resist being sealed. The reason for it’s abrupt censorship of speech caused a bit of alarm in Katja, as this hadn’t happened in considerable amount of time.

Taking the silence as a skeptical response to her advice, Sophie suddenly bumped her fist on top of her palm in an “Aha!” moment. Katja was broken from her ruminations, and looked down to face the younger woman.

“I know! If your relationship with Eidolon is rocky, I know an expert who can help you with your spirit! You know, counseling!”

“..Eh?”

“How about we take a trip to the Soul Society? I think that Eidolon is a bit more, humanoid then my own water clones in the intelligence sense, and she sure has a way with words.. Not to say that my water friend’s aren’t smart. It’s hard to describe Eidolon’s mannerisms.. It’s almost like..” Sophie froze, stilling in her thoughts. She was puzzled, as though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Rah! Whatever, let’s just get you and I and Eidolon and my water clones over to Soul Society.”

The water clones suddenly fizzled and melted into puddles, evaporating into thin air as Sophie sealed them.

Eidolon flew back to the side of Katja, but didn’t get too close. Katja couldn’t even get a protest in as Sophie pushed her into the Shadow, leaving the Schatten Bereich.

…

Upon their arrival just outside one of the main entrances of the Seireitei, two Shinigami on patrol strolled up to them and demanded their intentions for the sudden visitation. Katja was the last to step out from the Shadow as it receded, zipping closed into a thin black line before disappearing.

“Halt! We weren’t notified of your presence here, so we ask that you state your business here, missus.” One of the black haired Shinigamis stepped forward, eyeing Sophie.

“Hai! We’re visiting a friend here, her name is Masanuma Kuchiki!” Sophie responded, bowing at a 45.

Katja did the same, and nodded in agreement. She adjusted her cap and uniform.

“I see. Please wait here.” The first shinigami leapt off and flash stepped towards the inner gare, while the older brown haired man inspected them from where he stood.

“This will only take a moment. He will notify Kuchiki-sama of your arrival here. What are your names?”

The elderly shinigami grunted, his eyes squinting at them as he pulled out a pair of glasses from the pockets of his shihakusho.

“My name is Sophie Haschwalth, mister!”

“Pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Katja Ishida.”

“..I see. Quincy huh? We haven’t had one of your kind around in quite a while. Hrm.” The brown haired man murmured, rubbing at the lenses of his eyewear with his sleeve. He set them on his face.

“We don’t trust you fully as of now, you must be aware of the circ*mstances we had to consider. Rebuilding the damage from previous conflicts have posed no problems for us, but there are some grudges still lingering about, you understand?” With a tired and wary gaze, he stood in front of them, his guard up.

“Which is I’m reluctant to let you in. Your mere presence may rile others up, and admittedly, I have my own grievances,” The man’s tone shifted, “so please watch what you say or do around here.”

Katja and Sophie nodded. Both were aware of the fact that Quincies and Shinigami had waged war against the other a few hundred years ago-- Yes, buildings, districts could be fixed, but the broken hearts and stolen lives took time to heal. What suffering and hate remained would not so easily be replaced by forgiveness. Their relations still needed mending, and it would take even more time for each side to change their ways, if one decided to at all. They tensed up as the shinigami glared at Sophie.

On a change of topic however..

“Kuchiki-sama is a busy person. It’s rare that she has time for acquaintances such as you folk, considering her status as nobility,” the man looked towards the gate, “so please expect some delay or even some disappointment when it comes down to meeting with her. She seldom has time for short small talk, even if you’re her frie-”

“Heeeey! Sophie-chan, Katja-san!!”

A sudden cry of their name came from above, with the black haired shinigami tailing her, along with several other shinigami. Katja and Sophie could hear clamors of protest and calls of the name of their friend from up in the sky, and the brown haired shinigami was shaken in disbelief as the teal-haired shinigami descended from the blue above. A blur of black and white and cerulean-- Their friend crash landed onto the sandy path, dust flying, and both Quincies shielded themselves.

“Wheeew! Finally done that mound of tedious paperwork! You got perfect timing, both of you!”

The light laugh of Masanuma came from the dust clouds, and the teal haired woman waved it away as she approached them, while the shinigamis behind her spluttered and coughed.

“Ouchh, I could’ve been a bit smoother with that landing, but when I heard you guys came to visit I literally flew from my division and rushed to see you two!”

Sophie bolted towards Masnuma and tackled her, hugging the Shinigami fiercely, with a small “ouf” from the noble. Her arms snaked around the shoulders of Masanuma, locking her in place.

“Waaah! I’ve missed you Masanuma! I haven’t seen you in a while!” Sophie cried, her eyes sparkling with glee as Masanuma hugged her back.

“It’s great to see you, Kuchiki-san.” Katja walked over as Sophie finished hugging Masanuma, and Katja took both of Masanuma’s hands in her own gloved ones and shook them firmly.

“Hey now, no need to be so formal with me, just call me by my first name-- You’re my friend, right?” Masanuma grinned, clasping Katja’s hands in her own happily. The question was more rhetorical, of course Katja considered her to be a friend.

“I’ll have to get used to it, I suppose.” Katja chuckled.

“Uh-- Ahem!” The brown haired shinigami from earlier cleared his throat, and all of their attention flicked over to him. “I’m terribly sorry, Kuchiki-sama. If I had known that you were this close with them, I should have brought them in directly next time. I will be more than happy to accommodate them as well, if you wish-- Please, forgive my earlier hostility.” He bowed low, eager to dispel the awkwardness.

One thing hadn’t changed, the nobles were still held in high revere.

“I forgive you, Hara-san. There’s no need really, just let them in next time!” Masanuma bent down to pat the man on his back, urging him to stand straight. He did it slowly, clearly not used to the leniency that was being provided, blinking in confusion as he rose. He scratched the back of his head, and excused himself as he disappeared.

“Kuchiki-sama, uh, about your-”

“Hush, I know I’m not fully done, but what does my damn captain think of me?! Some kind of slave?! I’m not filling in for him any longer, no thanks! He can bide his time doing it, and it can pile up for all I care!”

Masanuma swept out an arm and crossed them both, her head turned to one side in defiance.

“But lieutenant-”

“I’m not a captain! One day he’ll get in trouble for this, and I can bet with my full year’s salary that it’ll only be a matter of time before someone realizes he’s shoving his work aside and being lazy! If anything, that habit of his rivals that of the late Shunsui Kyoraku!”

“Even so-”

“No way! He needs a taste of his own medicine that old crone, tch!”

Katja watched the usually laid-back and easy-going woman fire back counters at her comrades. A bit more hot-headed this time, it seemed that the hours of writing had finally snapped the string. Sophie had to hold back the giggles bubbling up in her throat. She never knew that the captain of Division 5 had this side to him. That would be more material for her to tease him about later.

“Shoo! If you guys get in trouble I’ll step in, so cool it!” Masanuma waved them off, and with a beleaguered sigh, all of them headed back to the gate. Masanuma had her doubts if she could actually evade the consequences, but that would be for future her to deal with.

Present Masanuma would only worry about spending time with her friends.

“So! What did you want to see me for?”

…

“Ah.. I see. Thing is, it seems that you’ve already come to the right conclusion, Katja-san.” Masanuma placed a hand on her hip, a sheepish smile on her face. “Sophie’s got the right idea as well, everything I probably would’ve said but shorter.” The shinigami raised one hand and placed it on the handle of her Zanpakuto, tapping it lightly with one finger idly.

“Just like you say your incantation to draw out your Schrifts power, or none at all, either way, our spirits will recognize the need for them, and will respond accordingly.” Masanuma drew the katana from it’s sheathe, the blade sliding along it with a sharp ring, holding it by her side.

“In this form, it’s dormant-- But I can communicate with my spirit, Shizukesa, and will hear it’s voice.”

She then changed her grip on the sword, raising the blade up with both hands in front of her, the sharp edge facing outwards.

“Grace us, Shizukesa!”

The blade flipped to the side, as it shone briefly, and as Masanuma swung it down, the sword was transformed, the air growing cold. The hilt resembled two crescent moons-- A waning and waxing crescent that faced each other, while the blade itself was a lighter silver, the rest a gradient of sharp greys and blacks. It was a long thinner version of the first sword they’d seen.

“And just like my Shikai, your own weapon will change shape as it transitions into it’s “awakened” form.”

Masanuma held the blade out in front of her again.

“What I’m trying to say is, that our own spirits will reflect us as well. Shizukesa only spoke to me once I was ready to grow further and push past my limits as a rookie Shinigami. She grew alongside me, and was my instructor when I had no one to lean on, because they knew what was best for me-- Which is the best for both of us. Ever since I’d obtained the sword of the Asauchi-- We’d been together. But we had to learn how to work together, which means mutual respect, as you said, as well as understanding. We can’t be at odds with one another during conflict, otherwise it would cost us our life.” The teal-haired woman gripped the sword in her hand tightly.

“I did have to prove myself worthy of using Shizukesa’s powers. Many times, I failed to understand it-- But soon I found out that I had to know myself even further. Through Jinzen, I communicated with Shizukesa-- And lot’s of times, I got the boot. Learning it’s true name was already a trial by fire-- But now that we’ve overcome those obstacles, our convictions and imprints on another have become one, and we fight for the same goal--”

Masanuma seemed to freeze, and looked down at the blade as though it had spoken, a voice unheard by both Quincies and Eidolon. Katja uncrossed her arms, and Sophie leaned in closer, in vain, trying to hear the spirit within the Zanpakuto.

“Ahh.. Alright, so you did sense something off too, huh? Wait hold on, I did too, I was just about to get to- What are you laughing at?” Masanuma questioned, with an amused twitch of her lips. “Okay, okay.. I’ll stop beating around the bush, Shizukesa.” She once again sealed it’s powers, and tucked it back into the sheathe.

“What is it Kuchiki-san?” Katja was slightly concerned as her friend gave a long sigh. Sophie slumped, as she attempted to hear Shizukesa, but was unable to.

“Hoouh.. How do I break it down for you? Hrmm..” Masanuma tapped a sandaled foot on the dirt path repeatedly, deep in thought, her hand coming up to sweep curly locks from her face, eyes narrowing as she broke her gaze with the blonde woman, staring down at the ground.

“Shizukesa and I, sometimes sense that there’s a divide, a separation between you and Eidolon. Nearly physical, although it’s just a manifestation of something that we can’t quite comprehend. A disconnect-- Like a puzzle piece not fitting where it’s supposed to.”

Katja blinked.

“Oooh, drat, not the right wording.. Kind of like, two magnets repelling each other? You just can’t seem to make the other touch. Yeah, something like that.”

Eidolon was eerily quiet, floating behind Katja. Sophie’s face lit up at this theory-- As though a light bulb went off in her head.

“This kind of happened when I was trying to learn Shizukesa’s true name, otherwise called Bankai as well, we faced a barrier that told me I wasn’t ready or worthy of achieving such power, until I overcame something within myself, whether it was a fear, doubt, grudge, mental, emotional or physical weakness. Something similar had to have happened to you, Katja-san. But you managed to overcome that, yet still, there are traces of that same wall, as though it hadn’t been completely demolished.”

Katja was rooted in place. She’d thought she’d dealt with all of these problems before, and had finished with it. Yet she herself was troubled by the fact that Eidolon still refused to work alongside Katja, often putting her down. Repeated insults, calling her a liar-- Dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

“You really thought I wouldn’t know?”

Katja refused to look back at Eidolon, as it seemed to probe into her mind and answer the question she wouldn’t speak aloud. It didn’t laugh, and it had stilled. Katja couldn’t even sense a single thing from it, not one flash of emotion, anger, sorrow, nothing. Nothing from it.

It suddenly began to dissipate, drawing back into the five star cross within her uniform.

“Ohhh! Look Katja! Eidolon’s sealed itself away now! Do you think it helped any? You know, our advice?”

Sophie’s voice seemed distant to the woman, as though her mind had traveled to another plane of existence entirely.

“I think it did-- Tell me if you want any more, alright? As much as I’d like to continue chatting with you, I have some duties to tend to in the outer districts of the Rukongai.”

“That’s alright, go on.” Katja murmured, fixed on something faraway. Silver eyes a dull glow, a trance-- Sophie took no notice however, she waved Masanuma off enthusiastically as the shinigami leapt from roof-top to roof- top.

Katja’s eyes focused in on a figure, hidden in the dense forest above the hills nearby--

The black shadow stared back.

-End Of Event-

Chapter 13: Lore Piece: Katja & Eidolon - The Why’s And How’s

Chapter Text

Katja’s Background: Family, Upbringing

Before she was born, her father loved another woman, and attempted to run away with her. His family, Katjas grandparents (extremely paranoid and oppressive, didn’t want the Ishida Lineage to die out-- As paranoid as they were, both grandparents were equally powerful at the time), were infuriated and dragged him back and married him off to another woman (Renho), at the threat of killing the other woman he loved (Ophelia). So then created was the grudgeful marriage and unhappy family, which was authoritarian and harsh, and despite the small flicker of love Katjas father bore for her, he would take he would take his anger out on her. Then of course there would be times when he showed her an excessive amount of pity and belittling, begging Katja to forgive him only to start the cycle all over again. Her mother was no better, and raised her with surprising misogyny towards women herself.

Katja is also an only child, as both father and mother didn’t want the hassle of re-doing the reproduction process. Only a single heir was needed for the Ishida lineage; their job as parents had finished the moment Katja had been born, or so they thought.

Her father was of course, a quincy, with the ability to form a kojaku (spirit bow). He neglected his duty to pass on quincy knowledge, but taught her at least how to form the kojaku. She could only sustain it for a few minutes as a child, and wasn’t naturally gifted. Frustrating for the girl of Ishida lineage, she’d felt as though she didn’t inherit their innate ability.

In turn, this caused Katja to reach for help at the last moment; if she decided she wanted it at all. Otherwise she’d reject help, stubbornly refusing any form of condescension she might receive through having someone help her.

I'll do it myself, and how I want to, and if I can’t do it, I’ll keep trying no matter how long.

So the “independent” woman was born, striving unhealthily to prove herself capable of overcoming any obstacle. She was weak; but she didn’t want to think so low of herself. She couldn’t be weak.

Wouldn’t be weak.

She didn’t have the coping skills as a young adult, and was only beginning to learn them when her marriage took root. She was disillusioned by the idea of love her parents had shown and taught her, and failed to realize that this relationship wasn’t something she could stand her ground against for long.

Divorce-- It’s an even tougher job, surprisingly.

She wanted to live, and Aoto often threatened her with harm if she mentioned splitting up.

In turn, she learned to keep her newfound rage caged in her heart, along with any other fear that she’d decided against showing to her husband.

She forced herself to keep reactions minimal, as her parents had taught her for the purpose of looking “appealing” to others gaze.

If he raised a hand against her, she wouldn’t flinch and instead accepted whatever would come her way.

It was second-nature to her, unfortunately.

Katja’s Fears.

First Fear: Death

Second Fear: Succumbing to grief, fearing that she was somehow still capable loving a monster like him, fearing that there was another route she could’ve taken instead of killing him.

Third Fear: Accepting her life as a mere dog, the dog that her mother and husband raised her to be.

She overcame all by killing him, all except one.

Final Fear: Accepting the fact that her heart had the same evil that she despised.

About Eidolon..

Eidolon, is a unique schrift. When it was bestowed by Hilda (Successor of Haschwalth’s Power, who was the other half of Yhwach, the old Quincy King), she recognized that the origins of Katja’s powers had laid dormant in the soul, and awakened once infused with the traces of Haschwalth’s/Yhwach’s soul. Instead of the usual non-sentient spiritual powers, Katja’s own schrift had a certain “sentience” type-spirit. Not to be confused with a Zanpakuto spirit however, as a schrift is bestowed upon the soul as an imprint, instead of on a weapon such as a bare Asauchi sword.

Eidolon, was the name that Hilda told Katja, but also purposely hid another vital piece of information regarding Eidolon. Yes, Eidolon is the name of her power, and Katja just calls it by Eidolon, or “it.”

Eidolon is able to speak and move of it’s own will, but it will also respond to Katja’s own will, emotions, and commands, and does so without hesitation. Katja doesn’t need to speak aloud her commands, Eidolon is a part of her, one brain, one body. However, this is the vexing and most confusing attribute in regards to Eidolon itself-- It once defied Katja the ability to use it, and refused to obey commands, and didn’t activate upon the incantations ending. There was a point in her training when Katja relied heavily on the use of Eidolon, seeing and using it wrongly to do all the work for her more weaker self, and when the time to achieve the power of Vollstandig arrived, Eidolon retreated inside of Katja’s soul, and was unable to be unleashed. Katja, powerless, came to Hilda to ask her what had happened to Eidolon. Back then, Katja could only hear faint, cut off sentences when Eidolon spoke, and each time, failed to hear fully what it was saying.

Hilda explained that Katja needed to obtain strength by other means, and learn herself what she was doing wrong.

Eidolon, unbeknownst to Katja herself, is actually not a separate, completely different person. It is not just any random phantom that manifested without any name. Eidolon had existed since the moment Katja started forcing her rage, sorrow and desperation, and fear down, inside her heart, preventing it from spilling out. The very desires of malicious intent and wrath was harboured in her heart, and from those high concentrations of bottled emotions, Eidolon manifested, a black stain on her soul and heart, the spiritual embodiment of it that formed the essence of her Schrift. Like those feelings, Eidolon lay quietly, waiting for the moment it would take form. It came, when Katja struck down her husband, ending his life, snapping violently in a turmoil of hatred. Inside her soul, hidden from Katja, Eidolon finally had shape upon it’s birth.

Yet, to it’s horror, Eidolon was once again, sealed away in the depths of the soul. Why? Katja was determined to never let herself succumb to those desires again.

Eidolon, is Katja. Eidolon is Katja Ishida, as it is her emotions, a part of Katja even though she denies it. Because of her denial, Katja is unable to see Eidolon for what it, or she truly is. That is why Katja couldn’t hear Eidolon’s words, because she didn’t recognize it, and wasn’t attuned to it’s voice, the voice of Katja’s deep-rooted emotions she’d pushed down and viewed as foreign. The reason why Eidolon defied Katja, and stripped her of her right to use it, was that Eidolon despised Katja for lying.

Katja is lying to herself, refusing to accept that she was evil, deep down. That instead of simply running away from the lover that tortured her so, she chose to kill him, rationalizing that it was the only way to go about things. Eidolon, in turn, despises Katja for lying to herself, for painting herself as someone that can exist without those emotions that Eidolon embodies, for disregarding the existence of Eidolon by not staying true to what she is.

So, “she” sealed herself away. Until a time came that Katja was stronger, and more like her original self. What Katja was doing wrong in her training, was straying away from her original mindset of independence, and through the lack of independence, pity or self-pity, which they both loathed, would shine through. Eidolon sealed itself away to prevent that, wanting Katja to strive for strength on her own, even if it was near impossible at first.

“She” needed her to be stronger. “She” needed Katja to at least, hear her voice clearly, and with that accomplishment, Katja grows closer to what they both (or rather what Katja) wanted to be.

Even now, Eidolon will still throw insults at Katja, not completely respecting her, as Katja hasn’t fully accepted herself as she is. But Eidolon no longer seals itself away.

As for Eidolon’s physical/spiritual appearance, it is a purely black apparition. All of it is black. Tendrils of it flowing off it’s skin in wispy, translucent trails whenever it moves/stands still. No light can be reflected off of it, only through it. It’s face has form, but the only things visible are it’s nose from the side, and the depth of it’s face along the side. Therefore, no one can see it’s facial features, such as the outline of it’s mouth or even it’s eyes. It’s faceless anyways, but when it laughs, the red glowing layer of it’s body that warps around within black, will manifest as a wide crescent on it’s face, an eerie glowing crimson smile. It also varies in size depending on it’s current state, for example, usually it’s the same height as Katja, floating slightly above ground. Legs, feet, aren’t really visible even if it has any (it doesn’t), and are replaced by a black wisp resembling the end of a tongue of flame. It’s arms are much longer in proportion, and it’s hands have long, black sharp fingers. This is usually the form that other people and Katja can see when the Schrift is active. But again, it’s shape will contort and split, change, and morph to correspond with attacks and Katja’s will (and it’s own). It’s a fusion of majority, Katja’s Reiryoku and the surrounding Reishi.

If there is a time where Katja has fully accepted and come to terms with her own feelings, including those that Eidolon embodies, Katja will see it’s true form.

In it’s true form, Eidolon is a mirror of Katja, except that it’s like a shadow, still black in colour fully throughout it’s body. Eidolon’s shape will be like Katja’s own physical body, and although Katja doesn’t realize it yet, Eidolon’s voice and face shape had always closely resembled her own. Eidolon will have on it’s head, long black wisps that trail down past it’s back, and frames the face, resembling the length and likeness of Katja’s own hair.

Eidolon’s single left eye will be visible, a vermillion red with black or bright crimson red irises depending on it’s mood. Another red marking will be visible starting from the left eye down to the jaw, resembling a bloody tear.

From the hip downwards, is a long black layer of obsidian that drops down onto the floor, and spills outwards like a dress (the skirt part resembles the dress that Katja had worn at her wedding).

For now however, Katja will see the previous description of Eidolon.

But once Katja fully aligns herself with Eidolon, Eidolon will no longer speak, as her voice is now fully assimilated with Katja’s. Her words are Katja’s, now fully one.

Eidolon is always haunting over Katja’s back or shoulders, staying close. In that kind of proximity and contact, Katja can feel some coldness. Katja is immune to any petrification and effects that Eidolon has on another person.

Some fun facts about Eidolon:

- Eidolon’s appearance will always resemble Katja’s physical appearance. So if Katja cuts her hair, Eidolon will reflect that. If Katja is injured however, that’s a different story. Eidolon will, for a split second, also reflect those injuries, but the blackness of it’s body will quickly sweep back into place and conceal those wounds. Eidolon doesn’t sustain injuries, and any injuries Katja has will not impede it’s performance.

- Eidolon is a dense concentration of Reishi (Kishi and Reishi are the kind of the same thing, however, Kishi has more concentration in the WOTL than Reishi) and Reiryoku, so much so it’s pretty much a physical force. So, Katja has Eidolon help her with chores around her living space, and it’s handy (multi-tasking in a sense)

- Eidolon’s voice has an echoing reverb to it, that quickly draws back in and out. It’s words are clear, the reverb of their words travels and is delayed by a mere second, sounding both distant and clear, loud and quiet at a fluctuation. Kind of whispery.

- Eidolon is basically a crueler, harsher side of Katja.

- Eidolon ----> A vengeant ghost. A manifestation of Katja’s fears and other concealed emotions that seeks to strike down others, instilling terror in them.

- In the Filler Event document, Eidolon insults and criticizes Katja’s ability to use it efficiently. Since Eidolon is a side of Katja herself, this meant that Katja had also suppressed self-pity and self-degradation.

- What Katja was seeing in the mirror (Filler Event: to Live And Live No Longer) was Eidolon.

- Having full mastery over Eidolon means that Eidolon will no longer speak.

Lore Piece: How Eidolon Works + Move Variation Information.

How Eidolon works:

Through contact or with mere presence, allows Eidolon to subjugate anything it touches into a state of petrification, frozen. It also allows Eidolon to fully redirect attacks or completely stop them, a “fear” state. Renders any close or long ranged attack incapable of reaching beyond the black flames. If those flames are absent however, attacks can land if it makes it past the defensive embers.

In Vollstandig, those flames cover Katja’s body from the collar downwards (Only on her arms and a bit of her lower body downwards, as the clothing is still there and I really don’t want any of my characters to become a fanservice type thing). Attacks, if not fully stopped, are nullified as soon as they come into contact with that layer. Because of Katja’s immunity to the effects of those flames, this doesn’t cause her or her attacks to become petrified, and doesn’t force the compulsion of “Fear” to take effect. Because Eidolon is composed of both Reishi and Katja’s own Reiryoku, it wouldn’t make sense for Eidolon to suddenly turn against her and become hazardous to the creator (or, herself. haha.)

Again, Eidolon is near physical force, so it doesn’t just phase through bodies (but it can). Eidolon can even carry, lift and enforce compulsion beyond where it stands through Katja’s commands, extending the area of effect. Eidolon can forcibly push back or strike another, and the only way for it to kill is through specific attacks, like Siphon. Another way for it to kill, is through directly piercing or impaling the soul/heart of an opponent, stopping it entirely. Otherwise, Katja will combine her attacks with Eidolon and do the killing herself.

Katja utilizes a black polearm formed from Eidolon. It doesn’t need a lot of Reishi to form, and Katja, if in spirit form, in emergencies, can tear off a limb and absorb that Reishi. The polearm is made of the same flame as Eidolon, but is more structured to kill and wound. Impaling another with it forces an opponent to be stunned and lay slack, loosing all feeling except pain, petrified for a few seconds depending on where she strikes, if not a killing blow.

In Vollstandig, Katja will use the majority of the time, her polearm, revolver, along with her own limbs, and hands. Due to the layer of Eidolons flames on her skin, she herself can induce the Fear Effect when touching/grazing another person, and the effects are amplified because of the density of the flames.

Attacks: My Own Ideas For Peroxide Moves - Eidolon (NOT CANON TO PEROXIDE VERSION OF MOVES, SOME SIMILARITIES, BUT SOME STATEMENTS ARE FOR ME TO REMEMBER OR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION. It is my take on the moves and how Eidolon would function, less restrictively.)

Blut Vene: Uses the veins to transport Reishi to enhance defensive capabilities and physical/spiritual durability.

Can be kept active and at full power consciously, and is visible as glowing veins of blue or red on the skin.

Blut Arterie: Uses the arteries to transport Reishi to enhance offensive capabilities, and ensures that even without the power of Schrift, a Quincy can deal lethal blows to any person or Hollow.

Haunt: Eidolon shoots forth from the palm or bow of Katja, and will fan out in different directions, summoning Eidolon as a split version of itself that will paralyze/petrify anything it touches or strikes, and wrings it back over to Katja’s location. Eidolon will impale the object/person it has “found,” in a burst of red and black trail of flames. and will morph into a jagged arrow, dragging anything it has pierced back to the user. If Eidolon failed to strike down a target, it will return to Katja regardless, and anything it managed to hit during it’s return will also be brought back to Katja. Although it seems like an advantage to Katja, it also brings in the disadvantage that Eidolon could lead an enemy straight to Katja, and might be taken by surprise. However, Katja is aware of the locations of each individual Eidolon, so she’s unlikely to be unprepared. During Haunt, Katja has to maintain concentration in order to fully track and manipulate each sliver of Eidolon. These wisps of the black ghosts can be blocked or redirected, however, it will penetrate through weaker blocks and stuns the enemy.

Seek: This move closely resembles the burst of inferno with the polearm. Eidolon will be aimed at a certain spot along a wall, roof, ground. More versatile and has an extended amount of range, but cannot be used in the open air and only along surfaces. Then, from the ground, Eidolon will shoot upwards, incinerating and paralyzing anything that gets caught in the area of effect, rising up to the skies. From there, the opponent will be sent flying and Eidolon will appear above them, striking/shoving them down towards Katja without fail, regardless of distance or height away from Katja (Honestly, I think of this as a right angle-triangle. An opponent will always be across from Katja in a straight line, whether from the side or in the air, close proximity, or even hidden behind something. If Katja lands Haunt, the opponent will be sent upwards in a straight vertical line, and slammed downwards to the ground back towards the originator (Katja). Think about it. Or not).

Siphon: Katja will press her palm down onto the ground, or activate it by clenching her fist together. From there, Eidolon will spread out in all directions around Katja in an extremely large area, spanning about 1-2 kilometers (1000-2000 metres, 1.24 miles). She can control that range, making it much smaller. Eidolon will engulf walls, roofs, covering all surfaces in darkness in a fraction of a second, and will be visible to those with a keen “sight,” and is otherwise invisible or just a slight black translucent blanket of air to those with lesser abilities. It will immediately start sapping away the life essence of the body, draining it of vitality at a gradual pace-- A victim doesn’t show any symptoms of loss of strength or any signs of tiredness, as their vitality isn’t fully “seperate” from their body. The vitality that is drained from the victim is seen as blood-red strings (invisible to all but Katja) that flow from their reiatsu outlets and pores, and those strings are attached to the body and flow back towards Katja, and all converge and combine into one single string that leads back to her heart. The vitality is converted into usable reishi that she can utilize to heal mortal wounds or boost her attacks potency. Once all the vitality of the other has been stolen, those strings will snap, and their body will react violently to the loss of it’s necessities to live and will begin rapidly decomposing. A person cannot break those strings, and the only way to prevent their loss of life is to get outside the range of Siphon (Those strings connecting Katja and the victim will snap, and any scrap of vitality that Katja had managed to circulate back to her heart will be taken anyways, even if little). Siphon also has a time limit, ranging from 10-15 minutes, but shortens greatly depending on how much energy/stamina Katja has, and depends on how much of Eidolon is expended on Siphon itself and other moves. If using other moves, Katja is forced to withdraw the range of Siphon or cancel the area of effect entirely in order to focus her power on another. If used carelessly, Siphon will expend her energy without earning any of it back, draining her and nullifying any attacks she makes as long as Siphon is active, and even after, she will feel those drawbacks and it will take time for her to regain what she has lost (Loss of breath, weakened physical state, extreme fatigue. In cases where her own vitality is low, and she uses the move again with failure to drain anyone else, Siphon will begin to drain her own Reiryoku contained in the cybernetic heart as a means of survival-- The result being that Katja is unable to use the technology to escape death).

(NOTE: When their vitality has taken the form of strings, Katja hasn’t fully absorbed it yet. The life essence is still there, circulating around, however, Katja is stealing it gradually, so they don’t feel it. Basically, it’s conditioning the other to constantly get used to the decreasing vitality. Functions as a parasite, you don’t really know what the hell happened until you feel the lethalness of the attack once the damage has been done.

If desperate to save someone, Katja will use the inverse of Siphon, morphing the shape of it’s range to surround herself and any life form nearby, and will instead, force herself to circulate the absorbed reishi and reiatsu to the dying person, manipulating it to flow from her cybernetic piece and veins to repair damage to another’s body. This puts an immense amount of strain on her, and if there is no one nearby to sap vitality from, (when she’s in spirit form specifically and only) Katja will sever a limb from her body to then convert it directly into reishi, and uses it to help further regeneration in a person’s body.

Sklaverei is an option, but I imagine it to be a forbidden technique due to it’s destructive nature of tearing and robbing souls, shinigami, arrancar, hollows, anything composed of reishi-- and absorbing it. It’ll basically rob everything of it’s spiritual matter. Imagine your arm gradually dissolving-- Probably painful and horrifying. But with this technique, she can skip the severing limb part.)

Sanguinal Spear - Vengeance Of The Wraiths, “The Retribution Of The Damned” “Omnipotence’s Demise” (thats a whole lotta names..): Yes, this is Katja’s ult move.

Drawing Eidolon’s flame over her entire body in a protective cloak, covering her skin and clothes in black wisps-- The single eye flaring up and glaring. This will happen in a blink, and once activated, cannot be interrupted unless an attack breaches her defenses long before Katja activates it.

While in this blanketed state, any attack that grazes those flames will be nullified and have no further effect on Katja. The “originator” of the attack is detected immediately, and in the same instance that the attack comes into contact with those flames, a function similar to the detection of the move Haunt will be active, and Katja will know the whereabouts of the attacker, no matter how far or how supposedly unreachable. All at once, Katja will appear behind the attacker, even if they aren’t on level ground with her, or even in close proximity-- And the fatal strike she will deliver in response is unavoidable. In her left hand, the black spear she fights with will manifest and impale her opponent, and can morph and change to adjust to the size of the person to ensure lethality-- Thus classifying it as a countermeasure for dangerous battles.

After the polearm has pierced the target, it will “disappear” in the eyes of everyone except Katja’s. It will remain inside the body of the victim, and cannot be taken out. The fear effect of Eidolon will diffuse into the body, greatly weakening attacks and lowering moral. In this state, uncontrollable fear will reside within the nerves, causing weakened opponents to start hallucinating premonitions of themselves and others, along with ghostly figures of Katja and “the illusions of vengeant spirits they fear.” The only way for it (both the spear and the effects) to dissipate, is for Katja to trigger it’s ignition-- The black polearm will flare and brighten into a fiery red, and it will become visible to everyone. Once detonated, it will explode in a smoldering burst of blood coloured flames, incinerating the target from the inside, while the black components of the polearm will force the victim upwards, applying Fear to their spiritual/physical body and overwhelming the senses due to the high concentrations of Eidolon’s essence in the blade, and the long handle. This is usually the killing blow for most, however, those with an even stronger will and resilence of mind and body can survive the second part of the original impalement. The potency of the incineration depends on Katja’s physical state.

Katja also doesn’t need to trigger the detonation manually-- It will eventually activate on it’s own after a minute or so.

(Extra Notes: If the person is in an area where no one else can reach, Katja will bypass this. In this state, Katja’s physical/spiritual body will liken to the attributes of an actual ghost-- Phasing through objects and physical matter while countering the person. The cloak of flames ends with the first impalement, and if Katja still remains in this unreachable place [ex, inside a wall or underground], she will be forced out into the open.

If nothing triggers the counter to activate, which is something coming into contact with it, the cloak will recede and Katja is left unguarded for several moments.

“Well, why not just throw a rock at her or something, instead of directly hitting her?”

This counter works against any attack, and the flames of Eidolon along with Katja will find the “origins.” A cero isn’t exactly the person themselves, but it originates from their spiritual power and reiatsu. Those traces, along with the hypersensitivity Eidolon has to detect malicious intent, work to target the origin of the attack, not deflect the attack itself. The single red eye isn’t just for show, it is a catalyst of sorts and can “see” the target.

“..Can we try running?”

Sure, but it only gets the spear impaled through you further. Again, everything happens within one breath; The reaction to the strike, the detection, the teleportation and the impalement.

Also, when I was referring to the “vengeant spirits they fear”-- What the person will hallucinate depends on their fears. One home-run hallucination however, is that the victim will start seeing people they’ve killed, or the people they fear the most. Premonitions especially, are one of the more common imagery a person’s mind will fabricate due to the effects of the spear.)

- Can “scorch and burn” objects and people, consuming them in those flames
- The burn and effects will “linger,” such as the unease, anxiety, dread, mental strain and an impending sense of death.

Eidolon is Katja, but we can’t forget WHAT it is and what it represents. Eidolon’s power over others and AOE will depend on Katja’s mental state, strengthening if she’s angered/unstable, but will be susceptible to errors in battle. On the other hand, if she’s shaken up or mournful, distracted, it will weaken. So Katja strives for a middle way, calm and collected but taking heed of her other emotions.

Mental Strength = Power/Potency Of Eidolon

Physical Strength/Vitality → Weakened = Less to use

Physical Strength/Vitality → Strong = More to use

Chapter 14: Event: A Blistering Afterlife - Sun’s Out In Soul Society

Chapter Text

Masanuma was waging war, a sweat inducing, fatigued muscles and nauseous one to be accurate.

A battle of wills she fought against the unbearable heatwave that bore down on Soul Society’s many spiritual inhabitants. Hardly able to move a limb, her zanpakuto sword lay in the dust beside her on the sandy pavement, the scent of hot stone and suffocating humidity gaining the upper hand over the worn down shinigami.

The woman had flopped onto the ground in defeat, shoulders sagging dramatically as her end neared, the opponent made of harsh UV rays and invincible scorching heat overwhelming what was left of her sanity.

But, would Masanuma let this be the finishing blow?

The answer is: “Gosh I nearly died, but, nope, can’t forget about what Shizukesa can do!”

With that, the energy-sapped Masanuma reached for her sword, a last resort (not really) to defeat her foe.

“Grace us.. Shizu-..kesa..” Masanuma rasped feebly, and with the summoning of her inner spirit and their powers, she quickly stabbed the ground to create a smaller area of ice around her, covering the hot ground-- Steam hissed up into the stale air, and although she was greatly weakened-- The teal-haired shinigami gained newfound strength and morale with the drastic drop in temperature, providing a cooling effect all around her.

The swords of ice were thinner, but nevertheless, the frosty air that radiated from the slowly spinning blades was a welcome sensation in contrast to the warm and discomforting perspiration drenching her skin.

With a loud and drawn out sigh of contentedness at the rejuvenation of her physical (spiritual) body, Masanuma was brought back from the near-death conditions. The tiny stalagmites of ice continued to emit cold air, and some melted-- So Masanuma took the chance to refill the miniature gourd of water, that was strewn about in the grass, sadly empty for hours.

The heatwave had crept up on the poor soul, giving her little time to realize as she worked tirelessly to shave off the tops of the rogue’s ranks and numbers. Only then, after hours of swinging her sword and cutting down her opponents, running around and expending her stamina reserves-- Did the exhaustion of her actions finally catch up to Masanuma. As she sat there, hurriedly chugging down every drop of the water she collected, Shizukesa spoke up from within her blade.

“Kuchiki-san, might I recommend that next time, you ask for help in your duties? As much as it’s helpful to have me around and use my powers to alleviate the heatstroke you just experienced, it can be prevented if you wouldn’t work yourself to the bone. Especially in this kind of weather.”

The woman guzzled down the last few bits of water, the cool liquid gradually easing the dizziness that ravaged her skull.

“I-.. Know that, yes. It’s not that I didn’t, or don’t choose to ask for help, Shizukesa.. It’s that no one’s willing to do this kind of job, except for my captain.” At the mention of her senior, Masanuma frustratedly groaned, rolling her eyes as her mind drifted over to ponder where the hell her Captain was. Or, even better, WHAT, he could be doing. Shizukesa hummed knowingly, with a small “ah.”

“But even then, the guy’s off on his own somewhere, meandering into some other part of the Rukongai, or the living world-- Ugh! Even the Soul King wouldn’t know where he’d be. That old unhelpful piece of-”

“Calm your spirits, dear Masanuma. Your hot-headedness comes from the heatwave, be careful so as not to strain yourself over such trivial things.”

“Trivial?! Shizukesa, you of all people, at least more than I do, should know that there’s supposed to be an order to things! A captain should set an example for his people, not-”

“Masanuma Kuchiki, are you just saying this so you that may slack off as well?”

“...W-what? Nope! Why would you say that, huh?” The curly-haired woman crossed her arms at the sudden accusation, her lips pulling into a thin line to hide her sheepish expression, her head turning away from the voice.

Shizukesa, unamused and amused at her bearer’s feelings and intentions, gave a disappointed hum.

“...” After moment’s of silence, Masanuma deflated, her arms flying up into the air in defeat.

“..Urgh. So what if I do need some rest, alright? You know how I fare everyday, filling in for him. Tch, you didn’t even have to ask!” Masanuma blurted, her teeth grit while she tried to contain a smile, irritated but, didn’t mind the bit of mischief her spirit showed.

“..At least if he’s here, he’s experiencing the same heatwave as I am. I’d feel a bit better.”

Masanuma’s inner spirit sighed, shaking it’s head although no one could see it.

“You must learn to control your ill-will, Kuchiki-san. Though I understand the weather may prove it to be a difficult task, we still have that to overcome.”

“I’d control it better if I didn’t have mounds of paperwork to work through everyday. Control this, control that-- How about someone works on controlling their workloads, and BY themselves! At this rate I should be qualified for some stupid office job in the Living World.” Masanuma hauled herself from the ground, dusting herself off, and slipped a piece of ice into her robe. Her energy restored, Masanuma focused on channeling her reiatsu and reiryoku out into the open, and with Shizukesa’s elemental counterpart, she created a small thin fan of malleable ice, and used it to fan herself as she trekked a way back to the towns of the Rukongai district.

“You’re lucky I’m so lenient with how you’re using my powers, dear Kuchiki.” The inner spirit scolded her, and Masanuma could almost picture Shizukesa wagging a finger at her, a stern expression on their face. Masanuma sighed a long one. After surviving a precarious condition (not as fatal as you’d usually think), she decided that her duties would be wrapped up and put on pause for the day. Reaching the safe refuge of the shaded forest, Masanuma’s steps became lighter, her sandals padding smoothly along the paved stone paths, that soon transitioned into ones of sand as she approached the streets. The bustle of the vendors and the markets set up along the wooden aisles of the towns had reached her ears long before they’d been in sight-- Often, the persistence and liveliness of the people, even through undesirable conditions such as these continued to amaze Masanuma. Shouts, not one of fear or rage, seemed to come from all directions, as passionate street sellers and their customers haggled prices, or gossiped amongst themselves as they waited for loyal patrons or clients to stop by. The buzz of the crowds were a mix of complaints about the heat, the tantalizing fragrance of grilled, smoked and fried meats and vegetables, summer plans, dates-- All the latest news that Masanuma enjoyed keeping up was in earshot. She stepped out to join the wave of people strutting, running or strolling around, like a single organism they moved about freely under the sun.

…

“Aaaah.. I’m sure even this kinda’ heat could kill a Hollow.”

“I do hope so, but right now it’s killing me.”

As though they were out cold, high as a kite, several groups of Shinigami on patrol around the streets of the Seireitei dragged their feet slowly along the hot marble tiled floor, or were laying in the shade of their division quarters, fanning themselves weakly with old paper or a tree branch. Some were lying about, eager to catch their breath while seniors nearby weren’t present to give an earful about “honourable conduct.”

A select few that were a bit more capable than others, were sitting in the shade and surveying the area to alert the others of a high-ranking shinigami nearby-- In order for the rest to collect themselves and play the part of a good shinigami, rather. All was right and fair until said high-ranking soul reaper passed, and they’d slump in relief and resume their slacking only for another to arrive-- This repeated for quite a while, exactly an hour, and they kept praying the act would hold out for as long as the heatwave lasted.

Perhaps it was the peace in Soul Society that caused the rigid system to allow such lax acts of prolonged respite.

One of the “watchers” was situated high up in an old tree that grew from one of the division courtyards.

The harsh rays of the sun seemed not to bother the man too much, as he sat with his back rested comfortably against the main trunk, the warm air lulling him to sleep. It was tempting, but as much as he longed for a nice dream and some shut-eye, his duty to help the rest regain their energy was the priority. Underneath a black mask, he sighed wearily, bringing his head back against the tree with a light thud, low lidded eyes staring a ways off from the white bleary orb in the blue skies above.

A rustle from below startled him from his drifting off-- He looked down only to see a small sparrow grooming it’s brown speckled feathers in the greenery. It chirped a low one, hopping along the branches.

“sh*t! It’s lieutenant Kuchiki--!”

“Damnit- Everyone-- Move! Fast!”

The man’s gaze shot past the bird and, realizing he had been distracted, gave a small grunt as he tensed up, getting ready to warn the others that had yet to be seen around the corner.

“Heey! Heey now! I’m not gonna go and tattle on you guys, chill out!” The quieted shout of the lieutenant rang out, loud enough for some to hear, but not loud enough to alert other seniorly shinigami that would’ve otherwise told them to get back to their posts, or scold them angrily. Instead of herding or threatening them on their way, the teal-haired woman urged them to hush and reassure them that she was siding with what they were currently doing-- The majority of them sighed in relief, falling over as their horror faded rapidly. Some were apprehensive, looking at the lieutenant up and down for any signs of a lie. But the shinigami before them flash-stepped over to sit under the shade of a roofed entrance to the quarters of the 4th division.

After an hour of resting, undisturbed, Masanuma yawned, tears springing from her eyes. She hadn’t napped like that in a while, and was energized from the bed-bye time. The heat had made it difficult to fall asleep, but most of the warmth you’d feel would only be faintly felt if you were in a sheltered place.

She fanned herself slowly, the thin ice sheet waving back and forth, and some of the shinigami scooted closer to catch the cold breeze-- To which she turned and fanned them as well. She ended up giving the fan to one of them, and just made a new one.

She stood from her seat on the wooden ledge, stretching up towards the sky with a small “oof” as her back cracked in the right spot-- And that’s when she felt a familiar reiatsu, and she paused, and her gaze drifted up to a tree.

Upon sensing a familiar presence, Masanuma glanced up at the tree a few metres away from her, that towered over the wooden walls of the private quarters and overlooked the many streets of the Seireitei.

A man with black hair and a reddish coat, was perched leisurely up in it’s branches. The sleeves of the coat had been taken off and were instead wrapped around his waist, while the black mask was folded off his face. However, the signature red cloth headband was still in it’s place around his head-- A recognizable iconic look that Masanuma lit up upon seeing.

The man felt eyes on him, and his own fluttered open-- He lazily looked down at the person watching him, and after a few groggy seconds, his mind registered the identity of the lieutenant staring up at him.

“Aizen-san! How’s the weather up there?” Masanuma shouted up to him, her voice carried up towards the young man.

The white-ish irises of his eyes flickered around, searching for some kind of interesting response.

Something he could muster with his sleep-spent state.

“...It’s hotter up here. Makes it hard to sleep.” Masanuma had to tilt her head to the side, one hand cupped behind an ear to hear his response. She nodded, and decided that she wouldn’t pester the fellow until later.

Out of the corner of her eye as she began to turn away, she saw something glint brightly in his hands--

Spying closer, Masanuma saw a small cone-like shape made of ice, with a dusting of smaller ice crystals that formed a sphere in the hollow circular part. He took a small lick of it--

“Joe! Is that the technique I taught you?” Masanuma cried with glee, her eyes sparkling at the familiar “Sno-Cone” that she’d invented for fun. In the barracks of their squad division, when she first encountered Joe training with his newly attained Shikai, she’d presented him with an ice sculpture shaped like an ice cream cone, that he hesitantly took, to which Masanuma proceeded to teach him how to do the same.

She was surprised he remembered it at all, but felt a sense of appreciation.

Joe nodded, as he took another lick at the bit of snow on top.

“It helps when the weather is like this.” He called down to her, holding it up in the air briefly to show it better.

“I’m glad!” She laughed, and she converted her makeshift fan into a similarly shaped ice cone, but this time it had 3 spheres of snow instead of the usual one. “You reminded me that I could do this-- Hmm, perhaps I could start a business with this!” Masanuma gingerly took a small nibble at the cold substance.

“Hah.. Shouldn’t I get my fair share of the sales then?” Shizukesa murmured, her voice echoing inside of Masanuma’s mind. “Eh? I’m only kidding, don’t worry, I won’t use you for profit.” She grumbled back, frowning.

“You’re a terrible liar, Kuchiki.”

Masnuma muttered something under her breath, as she walked out into the sun once more to search for her captain. While she’d been conversing with Joe, who is part of the long lineage of the Aizen clan-- She’d felt that familiar prickle that would announce his presence in the proximity. Joe had also sensed it, but the others had been too tired or worn out from the intense heat to notice much. Despite her captain’s efforts to keep his spiritual presence on the down low, there was no denying the distinct feel of it, as traces would be left behind and disappear in the same moment. Although she’d been accustomed to how it felt, Masanuma didn’t have the words to describe it to anyone else.

The sun beat down harshly over her hair and skin, the sweat starting after only a few minutes, the black color of her shihakusho unhelpful in her endeavor. The occasional consumption of the ice cone helped regulate her internal temperature, but she didn’t want to be out searching all day. Who would, really? A sunburn was nasty enough to deal with, and too much sun on her skin was awful. A blotched tan, oh how she shuddered at the thought.

“Oiya, Shizukesa, can we get skin cancer? We’re already dead, but.. We have to eat, and that doesn’t sound like something a dead person has to do.”

Masanuma heard her inner spirit give a pondering hum as she always did, but this time it took longer for her spirit to formulate and give an answer.

“We are still assailed by diseases and conditions. Your functions are no different than a human, and of course that involves the occasional excreti-”

“Okay okay! I got it..”

“Ahem. Our bodies are structurally different from that of a physical body, but there are no differences in the functions your body carries. Although, you age much slower than that of mortals in the World Of The Living. If a spirit doesn’t have much spiritual power, or none at all, they will never grow hungry, and aging is slowed once again. But for those such as you, in order to nourish a body with such high reserves of spiritual power, you require sustenance.”

“Oh, how very lucky I am, to have to go through all this because I’m just slightly more powerful than the rest.” Masanuma scoffed, kicking a stone out of her way with the front of her sandal.

“It is a blessing to be strong enough to protect yourself and others, Masanuma.”

Masanuma sighed, finishing her snow cone and created another small ice fan.

“Understood, wise guy.”

“Any more witty words from you, and next time I won’t heed your call.”

“You can’t do that to me anymore, Shizukesa.” Masanuma replied dryly, swatting a fly away from her as it buzzed around with a whirr of it’s wings.

“Are you certain?”

“I place my faith in you.”

With that, Shizukesa quieted, smiling.

“And as do I.”

…

“Huh? Aizen-san, why are you here? Weren’t you asleep?”

Masanuma was delightfully surprised as Joe had stepped out behind a corner and gave a small wave. He looked around cautiously as though he were afraid of being followed, and approached the lieutenant.

“I’d like to accompany you, is all.” He replied, rubbing at his eyes. Still sluggish, although he had the spirit.

“Ah.. Is that so? It might take us longer than expected then-- Who knows where that damn man is.”

Masanuma was hesitant, and it wasn’t just because of the long wait to see him.

“No thanks.”

“Huh? Why not? They’re your family, right? I thought you’d want to-”

“Them? None of them are. None I’d like to see, for the most part.”

“Did something happen between you and the rest of your relatives? I’m sure you could work it out if-”

“If I wanted to resolve this familial matter, I would have done so long ago.”

“So, this isn’t your problem, I suppose?”

“It isn’t mine to deal with. What would the point be, really, if they don’t remember?”

“Wouldn’t it be a nice thing, to have them at least acknowledge you?”

“I want nothing to do with them.”

“.. Alright. If you ever have a change of mind, you can just talk to me about it.”

“I won’t be changing my mind. You’d do better off without having to think about this.”

“.. I’ll keep it in my best interests.” Masanuma slid the screen door to the side, and closed it behind her with a thud, leaving her Captain alone in the meeting room.

“That’s fine. It’s not like I have anything else to do in this heatwave anyways.”

The young Aizen’s voice broke her from her thoughts, and Masanuma nodded hurriedly as though she were still in the past.

“Alright, suit yourself. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Joe’s head tilted to the side confusedly-- Surely she didn’t think of him as weak enough to be incapable of enduring a prolonged time in the sun?

It was far from that, of course. But Masanuma’s hands clenched behind her back, gripping the fan tightly as she ushered him along, beginning to walk towards the place she’d last felt her Captain’s presence.

Family reunions were always a trifling business to deal with.

All the way, to the 5th division barracks, Masanuma was silently dreading their meeting while she distracted herself and Joe with her rambles and questions.

“Gosh, and I slipped on my own ice this one time! I could hear Shizukesa laughing at me from within my blade-- Has that ever happened to you? Please tell me I’m not alone on this!” She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head in mock embarrassment. Joe coughed to hide a chuckle, and he cleared his throat.

“Uh-. No. I don’t think I’ve slipped on the ice I’ve made before, but I accidentally froze one of my comrades to a wall, and it took time for the ice encasing to melt. We had to use some less-potent Bakudo to get him down.”

Joe admitted, averting his gaze.

“Ah, I see- Just don’t make the same mistake as me, it’s the one you could prevent the most, and one you can save yourself humiliation from.” Masanuma reassured him. As they entered the division barracks, sliding open one of the wooden screen doors, a blur of black came careening out, and Masanuma barely had enough time to grab Joe and yank him to the side to avoid the massive projectile that barreled past them.

Masanuma was horrified to find that the projectile was in fact, a person, as they were slammed and splayed against a stone wall with a crack that caused both of them to wince. The person shakily got up on their palms on all fours, trembling as they rose to their knees by supporting themselves on their sheathed sword.

“Ow- OW.. That-.. Hurt!..” The black haired shinigami groaned, gloved hands clenching tightly around the handle. Joe tensed up and Masanuma was about to rush to help them, until she felt another presence rushing towards the doorway.

Masanuma whirled around to see what had flung the shinigami, and saw one of her subordinates pointing a wooden training sword at the injured one. They stepped out with a stride, jabbing the sword towards them, with lips curled back into a sneer.

“OI! If you’re gonna ask for a spar, thats what you’ll get! Don’t say I didn’t-”

The bald-headed shinigami wielding the wooden sword was suddenly knocked off his feet and went flying forward arms flailing from the doorway with a yelp, ending up on the stone floor face first with a smack.

A bandaged hand grabbed the fusuma screen door and shoved it to the side to open it further, an all too familiar figure stepping out from the entrance.

“T-taichou?! Agh- What the-.. I didn’t know you were-”

“Stop causing a ruckus.” With an irritable tone of voice, the response made the rambunctious bald soul reaper bow his head nervously, chuckling, getting up off his feet dazedly and bowed. Muttering something underneath his breath, the taller man shook his head.

“Yes! Understood! Uh.. I’m very sorry-” He turned to his former opponent and stammered an apology, shocked that his own Captain had witnessed his actions and had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“And- I’m sorry, Aizen-sama-.. I didn’t know you were-”

“Enough. Just head back inside before anymore of this starts to happen and furthers my headache.” The crimson-haired man ordered the trainer back inside, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

“You too. You’re not cut anywhere, correct?” He glanced over to the shinigami, who weakly nodded and hobbled off inside to pack his things.

Both shinigami made their way into the hallway, while Joe and Masanuma could only process what had occurred in the span of a minute.

“Ryosuke-sama?! What are you-”

“Do I really need to answer that question? I’m here to finish up some paperwork and documents, that you clearly left for me to handle though I politely asked you’d finish them in my stead.” His eyes narrowed, and Masanuma noticed that his gaze didn’t even flick over to Joe beside her- Not once.

“Well- Maybe I should just leave it there then if you’ll actually do it.”

“No.”

“That wasn’t an offer! It’s not negotiable, you have to do these things yourself, C-a-p-t-a-i-n. And you didn’t politely ask me, you threatened me.” Masanuma huffed, her teeth grinding together as a vein popped up on the side of her face.

“Nice try, but no.” Ryosuke turned to leave, but Joe had suddenly flash-stepped up to him-- And Masanuma’s breath hitched in her throat as she saw Joe’s hand grip her captain’s shoulder firmly. He stopped in his tracks.

“I’m no captain, but don’t you think it’s wrong to take advantage of your subordinates like this?”

Joe’s voice was level, but Masanuma could tell that he’d been stirred by their banter, and it had rubbed him the wrong way.

What had really caused him to act this way, was because of his own personal drive. Joe was in all aspects, a diligent worker (overworked), and perhaps one that did so tirelessly without much rest. To witness another’s plead to rest, and be denied that right, had set him off.

But it was a whole other issue to witness someone of such high authority fail to meet his standards of someone worthy of the rank. He hoped he’d be proved wrong of this first impression, soon.

His hand remained on the shoulder of the still figure through the silence that ensued. The sun shone down brightly, yet the scene between the two Aizen seemed to darken. Masanuma swallowed down a nervous lump in her throat, agitated by the tension in the air. One side of her shrieked at her to separate the two, while the other demanded she stay put and watch how this would unfold. This wasn’t for her to interfere with, unless Joe would choose a violent course of action.

Ryosuke was strangely quiet, although not uncharacteristic, he would’ve responded by now, or left.

His lieutenant could sense nothing from him, and it made her uneasy. Joe on the other hand, with his frustration rising, stood unbudging, not relenting. Sweat dripped down Masanuma’s brow, not daring to breath a word. But she didn’t have to.

Her captain tore himself from the grip of his descendant’s hand, shoving him off and took a few steps forward without saying anything.

Before Masanuma could react, Joe had reached for his zanpakuto sword at his waist-- Only to find that there was nothing there. His eyes shot to where Ryosuke stood-- To find the sheathed sword in his left hand, holding it out to the side.

Then he turned his head, not to look at Joe, but Masanuma. An indication to his lieutenant.

This is what happens.

Masanuma grunted, her gaze not able to meet her Captain’s. But it did.

You could’ve answered him. He would not have resorted to this. Masanuma shook her head.

It’s the same result with them. He looked away.

I’ve tried.

Ryosuke threw the sheathed sword at the younger Aizen.

Joe caught it in his hands, grimacing at it, and looked up to face the older man--

And was instead greeted by the empty hallway that he’d once stood in. Nowhere to be felt or found.

“..Tch.” Joe slung the sheathe and sword into the belt of his robes, his hand lingering over the handle before dropping down at his side.

Masanuma breathed out, her shoulders drooping.

“..Sorry, Aizen-san.”

…

The two sat outside, none of them uttering a word to each other-- Cicada’s buzzed all around, chirping a droning tune in unison, their locations unknown amongst the overgrown bushes and trees. The sun had yet to set, unmoving in the sky as the day continued to grow warmer, the air thick with humidity. Two hands fiddling with the other’s fingers, Masanuma bit the inside of her cheek as she sat stiffly next to the stairs. She glanced up at the set of doors, now closed to prevent any bugs, or any more of the summer heat in.

A yellow butterfly flew through her line of sight, disrupting the blurred unfocused state of mind she’d been in.

She held her breathe as it settled on the tip of her nose, brown spindly legs bent, the delicate opaque wings lowering to a rest position. They flitted once or twice, before stilling entirely.

“...” Masanuma continued sitting there in silence, unable to speak without scaring off the little guy.

Her stomach rumbled warningly, and she’d forgotten to eat something more filling than shaved ice.

Slowly lifting up a hand to her face, a pointer finger extending up to her nose-- The yellow butterfly refused to move onto it, as stubborn as the sun that refused to relinquish it’s place in the sky.

There she sat, hungry, with a butterfly on her face, unable to move.

Joe, who hadn’t left the side of Masanuma, was sitting against the roots and trunk of an immature willow tree. Curtains of ivory fell down towards the ground, never touching it, lying still just as Joe was.

Underneath the cool shade of it’s greenery, sleep tempted him again-- But once again, was he interrupted.

“Kuchiki-sama!”

A light cry of the lieutenant’s name startled him, and both the butterfly and Joe stirred. With yellow wings flapping frantically, up towards the sky, the insect disappeared in the white hot glare of the sun.

Masanuma stood, picking up the cyan-coloured sheathe beside her, scanning for the source of the voice.

“Whoa, whoawhoa!” As though she were a missile gone awry, a tan black haired shinigami crashed through the weeping willow’s branches, the green curtains of many feathery veined leaves parting as the figure fell down from above, thudding roughly onto the grass beside Joe, who didn’t have enough time to flinch or react to the entrance.

Spluttering and coughing, the shinigami was flipped upside down on her shoulder blades, sandaled feet awkwardly splayed up in the air against the thick trunk. Rolling onto her right side to avoid Joe, she scrambled to lay flat on her stomach before getting up on all fours-- Then touched her head to the floor in a direction facing the stunned Masanuma.

“I-I’m sorry-- If I startled you, Kuchiki-sama,” the shinigami quickly shuffled to her right again, and touched her head to the ground again to bow in apology to Joe, who relaxed upon seeing it wasn’t a foe of sorts,

“And, to you too, Aizen-sama!”

Joe was surprised the person recognized him, and knew his name. He could only nod his head in response to her apology, looking away. With lichen and some leaves stuck to her uniform, and a few green bits scattered around in her short mop of hair, ultimately the effort to keep things as formal and well-presentable had failed, but it seemed that the shinigami was determined to make a messy first impression.. Impressionable.

“Uh- Ahem! I’m sorry for the intrusion, Lieutenant Kuchiki, Vice Captain Aizen. I’m here to deliver a message from my si- I mean, Captain Suzuki, of the Fourth Division. I know that it’s a slight inconvenience that the recently implemented relay system hasn’t been repaired yet, so please forgive us for using the old-fashioned method of communication.” From the pockets of her robe, the shinigami fished out a rolled up piece of paper that was knotted closed with a piece of maroon ribbon. Masanuma stretched out a hand and took it, gently untying the ribbon. Grabbing the edges of the paper, she unrolled it, squinting at it’s contents. Meanwhile, the messenger brushed off bits of the willow tree from her uniform, and with a pause, she combed out the rest of it from her hair with a hand. Joe blinked.

“Ahhh! Really?! This is a sweet treat we’re in for, Aizen-san!” The teal-haired soul reaper closed up the piece of paper, grinning widely at Joe, who blinked twice back at her. He tilted his head to the side confusedly. If this was going to be a distraction from the events a few minutes ago, he’d gladly go along.

“The fourth division’s captain is inviting us to stay within their squad quarters for the duration of a few days! She says she’s dismissed some of her own squad for a while to wait out the heatwave, Here here, it says,” Masanuma breathed in, “It isn’t in our best interest to force our men and women to toil under the harsh sun, and I recognize their efforts as something that should therefore be repaid with well-deserved respite. To any weary chiefs, commanders and those of considerable ranking, you may bring yourself and some of your acquaintances to the fourth’s division courtyard. It has gone under some renovations, and is perfect for a wide gathering. Some food and water will be provided-- You may bring your own. I ask that you clean up after your retinue and your own. Signed, Keiko Suzuki.”

Masanuma, who had seemingly forgotten the tense family reunion, jumped up into the air excitedly at the invite.

“Isn’t this great?! Ah, Aiko, your older sister is so sweet, thank you so much, actually, thank you both for inviting all of us! This is SUCH a lifesaver, and oh boy let me tell you I’ve been wanting something like this since forever!--Likewhycan’twehavemoreoftheseespeciallyintheworldofthelivingtheyhavesuperduperfunfestivalslikethisandyouknowI’mnotsayingthatwedon’tbutlikeyou’dthink--”

Her breathless rambles of delight were mushed together as she bear hugged the black haired shinigami.

Joe heaved himself up from the tree, stretching out his arms as he got ready to set out again. Perhaps he could find an unoccupied room and sleep in there, undisturbed, finally. Aiko, the messenger, beamed at the acceptance of her divisions invite.

“Don’t you think, that this place has grown from its once insular state of society, Aiko? Aren’t you proud of all of it, when you look upon it’s people? We’ve opened up negotiations with our once sworn enemies, the Quincies-- And we’ve established equal grounds with the inhabitants of Hueco Mundo. The Fullbringers are welcomed, gradually, into the system of peace we’ve created.”

“So much so, to the point where I’m given the opportunity to host this event! Ah..”

“Should I go out and fetch a few people?”

“Oh!- Right, I nearly forgot that the technology they’ve brought in from the World Of The Living had broken down-- Yes, be on your way, Aiko. Do be careful, I’m in no rush to have anyone attend.”

“Mm.. That last one’s a lie.”

“Haha, yes, it is.”

After departing for the Fourth’s Division’s squad quarters, arriving there within a few minutes (following spreading the message around to her squad)-- Masanuma soon found herself enjoying a bit of the food, socializing among members of the First and Third. Aiko hurried to find her sister, whom she spied talking with the Captains of the Sixth, Eighth, Tenth, Thirteenth.

And last but not least, Joe had found a spare room near the outer courtyard that had a view of a small koi pond-- The sunlight filtering through the thinner blinds of the windows, which created a pleasantly warm room for sleeping in. The muffled voices of people outside, footsteps padding by-- Joe drifted off into a dream.

The uplifted mood of the indoor events, shielded from the sun, lasted from midday until the moon shone in the sky-- Of course someone brought a few bottles in of something and got carried away. No drunken fights broke out, only some seniorly shinigami breaking out into karaoke, their voices drifting off in the light breeze during the night. They clocked out soon after, the quieted chatter replacing their oddly harmonic singing.

The Captains spent their time outside on the balconies of the Fourth Division, amiable banter and jokes made-- Later on, a certain tardy shinigami showed up, silently making his way to the place they all were and sat a fair distance away from them, tuning into their conversation, as he had nothing better to do. Their gathering was one of amity, he noted, so unlike their usual monthly reconvenings. At least, the ones he attended.

So he stayed close, but not too close. In any case, this would count as his attendance, which he’d use against them if they tried reasoning with him through silly obligations.

Their conversations were filled with anything but the forward straight and brief updates-- Some loosened tongues allowed some unfiltered subject matter, to which he found the smallest spark of amusem*nt in.

Idly adjusting the bandages around his finger, he continued to eavesdrop.

With the sun out of the way, there, will shine the brightest-- The person.

He supposed that if the other Captains let themselves just be, he’d attend their meetings at least more than twice a year.

But that’d be a few centuries until that happened.

If a few more heatwaves happen, along with this festivity of sorts-- Would it be something he’d indulge in?

No one knew, really.

The sun was gone.

-End Of Event-

Chapter 15: Event: Get These Arrancar On Leash - A Saga Of Rabid Beast’s Part I

Chapter Text

*birds chirping*

Chapter 16: Event: Meenie The Mighty Menoscar

Chapter Text

*fish swimming*

Chapter 17: Event: Character Teaser - Sister Of The Merciless Winds, A Breezy Blade & Brothers Of Hueco’s Night Skies, Valentino and Villano

Chapter Text

*bubbles floating*

Chapter 18: Event: Death Through Metamorphosis - End It All

Chapter Text

The Ghost Of Me - Part I

Did I want love so badly with another--

Or did I want to see if I could be loved at all?

And when my heart was thrown to the floor and ground under your foot,

The answer was rejection.

Over 1 year ago.

“I want neither your company, or you.”

Pale hands laid themselves against the casket, the wood smooth and cold as the body inside it.

Fingers pressed lightly against the lid of the container, as though to ensure it wouldn’t open, and that the person inside would remain in their resting place.

They paused over the small gap as the top transitioned to the body of the oak receptacle, the distinct imprints of carved tree brushing against the pads of their fingers, hands ghosting over the top, the orchids and hydrangea arrangements falling from the top as the woman moved them out of her way. The feel of the soft petals would’ve been comforting, if it had not been for the occasion in which they were prepared and placed for.

No one said a word.

Not a breath.

No one was there except her, the widowed woman of the man whom she so loved, whom was since pronounced dead days prior. In the room, she was isolated from the rest of the world, the city around her, from the wind and the sun, the stars and the moon. She liked it this way-- Or rather, that she preferred not to hear the sobs and superficial tears that had been shed for her misfortune. Oh, how they cried, distant acquaintances that knew nothing about her and her husband. How she knew nothing of them, empty words on her tongue that whispered her condolences that should've belonged to her. Rightfully hers, the grief that befell the room, the wretched anguish that weighed on their hearts like chains and shackles-- Rightfully hers, and the woman didn’t cry a single tear out of mourning, as the flock of people she didn’t know mistook it as mental shock and a shattered heart. That if she cried, her whole being would splinter and shatter into a million pieces, unable to be put back together. The elderly women shook their heads in pity, the men hissing their comments in hushed conversation, young adolescents standing awkwardly around as though their movements would disturb her.

A friend, who stood watching, eyes downcast to the floor as time passed, unable to look at the broken state of his friend.

The shameful relief that washed over the woman when they all left.

Her head leaned against the side of the casket, forehead pressing against it, long strands of hair falling in split curtains that hid the expression on her face. The picture of her husband had since been laid flat, picture side down, while the memorabilia were swept aside on the floor. The grey blue of the darkening day covered the walls and the ground as the fading light of the sky reflected feebly into the room. The sun had hidden itself away behind clouds of porpoise grey, a mesh of melancholic colours that the sky painted, an artistry of despondency.

The very skies, were mimicking the emotions within the room. There was no sun. Nor was there a moon to break this darkness, it’s blade of silvery light unable to pierce the cloud cover.

But there was no rain.

Her head shifted against the wood, and her hands slid down from the top, the tight embrace she’d supposedly had falling apart, and they pressed against it.

Her shoulders trembled, the black robe she wore wrinkled and stark against blotchy, sickly pale skin.

She leaned against it, as though it were a shoulder to cry on, not the place of the embalmed corpse of her husband. Finally, the disheveled hair concealing her face fell away as she turned to the side, the left side of her head resting on the top.

Tears began to fall, sailing down her face in a languid motion, eyes low lidded as she began to weep.

Silver irises fogged over as no light reflected within them, a near perfect copy of the sky outside.

Her lips pressed into a line, stifling any sound that threatened to break free from the confines of her throat, her breaths unsteady, each drawing in breathe at short intervals, while some cut off as she contained the emotions that whirled within the cage of her chest like a storm.

In shambles. Distraught. At her wits end, utterly devastated. A ruined, shell of the person she was. She was a newfound purposeless existence. Stricken by loss.

Yes, she was.

Mourning, and it was all she could do because it was what she was.

Her shoulders shook, as her hands curled themselves over the lid of the casket--

And a laugh, a harsh sound came from her mouth, which soon transformed into a hushed fit of laughter, uncontrollable. A hysteric mania of wailings and hilarity, the eerie echo of the widows laughter chilling the bones of old friend death, to it’s core. Those sounds failed to register in her mind, that they belonged to her, and she shook her head, tears continuing to fall from her stained face as her hands clenched against the casket, reeling from the violent outburst of emotions she faced. She continued to laugh, shrill, a jarring resonance that only caused her to shrink back inside herself, and like a madman she denied these foreign sounds as her own, going as far as to slam her head down against the wooden lid several times. She didn’t realize she was smiling, teeth grinding down on another as her laughter began to die down, her breath laboured as her lungs worked raggedly in her chest. The smile grew wider across her face like blood blossoming, and she convulsed as a sudden frigid cold passed over her body, and her hands raked down the caskets side and came to grip at her arms in a cross, shivering as her smile faltered. The hot feel of tears was her only sense of warmth, and they dripped down onto the dress, a small drizzle on a black lake.

“If that,--.. Was love..” The woman chattered to herself, gasping for air as the cold settled in her blood, “I’m.. So, happy.. “ She shuddered, her head drooping down as a weakness made her muscles feel loose and useless, “I’m finished.. With it..” Her mouth pressed in a weak smile, her eyes were shadowed and gaunt, the silver irises losing their brilliant shine in spite of the wetness of her tears, as her head lifted once more to gaze at her husbands resting place.

“I.. Want not a shred of it..” Through the wintry sensations that rocked her senses, a hand once more, bent and touched its palm to the side of the casket, as though she could reach the body laden within, as if physically, it was the only way to reach him.

“Not anymore.”

That hand stayed there for a while, lingering despite her hearts contempt and anguish towards the man.

He was once, her beloved.

She lay there, mourning that love.

“You’re gone.” She whispered, to both him and herself. Out of self-consolation, perhaps reassurance, that he has truly passed on from this world. There was a tenderness to her voice, one so out of place for circ*mstances such as these, her voice soft like she were singing a lullaby to a child.

“You’re gone.” The widow’s last tears began to fall. By this time, it was all she could muster as she’d spent it all. Again and again, she repeated those words, their meaning unable to sink into the soil of her mind.

“You’re finally gone.” Her throat felt dry, ragged. Eyes bloodshot, while her composure seemed to shrivel in. Frail, as her arms drew themselves together around her knees as they shifted from under her. They ached, from kneeling for hours on end alone.

She mourned.

She mourned the loss of her love.

She mourned the person she loved, who had disappeared and had become the unrecognizable man who’d caused her pain.

She mourned the person she could’ve become to make him love her.

She mourned the time she’d lost, and had spent in a living hell, falsely visioned as heaven.

She mourned the friends she’d distanced herself from.

She mourned the future she lost sight of.

She mourned the person she failed to become. The person she wanted to be.

She mourned the person she became.

She mourned the child self of her younger days, whos dreams were unfulfilled.

She mourned the child inside her that she killed.

She mourned, the death of everything she was.

Because he wasn’t the only person she’d murdered.

He wasn’t the only one who had died.

She killed herself, in many ways, to get this far.

I’m sorry.

You wanted to live.

I wanted death.

I killed us.

Chapter 19: The Ghost Of Me - Part II

Chapter Text

Present Day

“Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours

If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick..”

-Strangers, Ethel Cain

A lazy stream of white light flowed from outside into the room, in faded squares against the tatami mats on the floor. The muffled serenade of cicadas and nocturnal insects made quite the comfortable ambience, paired with the familiar feel of the traditional Heian style quarters I sat alone in. Occasionally, padded footsteps and the click of a pair of sandals became more pronounced as various Shinigami passed by on patrol, safe guarding even the Division’s at night undeterred. They went, and came, several times by the tally I had mentally, their steady pace accompanied by the warm glow of a lantern as the skies grew ever more darker.

19.

Another pair of footsteps passed, marking the 19th individual to have passed by my room. Their rounds were quicker-- The orange light of their lantern seemed to slow around the door, and their tall shadow was cast onto the door, and thus into the room on the mat in front of me. Eyeing the door, I wondered what they were trying to do so late at night, specifically in front of my own room, rather. They certainly hadn’t stopped in front of the neighboring compartments.

It was probably their own musings and inquiries, that brought them so close to one of my status.

A Quincy.

However, even as they continued on their way, my mind couldn’t help but revert to it’s state of unease, back when I first visited the Seireitei and the 13 Court Guard Squads along with my former teacher, Ryosuke Aizen, to officially enlist me. The stares of scrutiny and suspicion, whispers of “who is she” and so forth-- I predicted they’d last for a while, as I walked the streets of the Rukongai and the maze within the stone walls.

I relaxed, as their footsteps faded from my range of hearing, their presence vanishing.

It would only be a matter of time before the next one would pass through the area, so instead of sitting around counting Shinigami as if they were sheep, I picked myself up off the mat I sat on.

There were no clocks around to tell how many hours I was into the night, at least not in this small dormitory of the Fourth Squad Division. No ticking of the hands along the dial, or any electrical sockets to supply power to a digital one-- as much as I do appreciate the traditional, outmoded structure of the Soul Society’s architecture and technological advancements, I was born in an era of neo-colonialism, newly reformed social systems-- The technology aside, though it’s of equal merit.

Clearly, a life like this would take some getting used to, if I one day wind up here.

Ah, right.

That’s not to say they didn’t have a source of power to fuel their own machinery. The late inventions of the scientist, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, have proved useful to the quality of life here in the districts of the Rukongai, as well as those within the Seireitei. Reishi-current powerlines, perhaps?

I’d also noticed a few TV’s scattered around, if you’d take a peek inside of another’s room-- Sure enough, there was the news channel. Wifi was also found around here, but restricted to some areas only.

Actually, out of all the Divisions I’ve visited, it seems the 12th has the most access to the modern devices found in the World Of The Living.

..That’s obvious, oh silly me. They’re the ones in charge of it all. I’d heard they use more organic components in their trinkets, rather than that of a handful of wires.

I shook my head at myself, treading into the kitchen. I didn’t look for a light switch this time. Maybe they’d implement more once they’ve created something skin to it, and fully tested and refined it. I lit a larger lantern and set it down on the table, the flame flickering, licking up at it’s metal prison. I lit a small boiler with a match I’d found earlier in a cupboard, striking it against the grainy edge, and discarded it into the slot for it to be held.

With a thud, I opened the drawer under the sink. I felt around for the cold touch of metal, and upon grazing it, I wrapped a few fingers around the handle-- A kettle.

I straightened myself out, placing it down on the metal rack above the burning candle, allowing it to heat up for usage. I carefully made sure nothing was sitting atop each other unbalanced, and with a nod, I stepped back, a sigh escaping me.

My hands eventually found themselves gripping the top of a backrest attached to a chair, and I leaned back against it lightly. I absentmindedly watched the flames of the candle, vision blurring as I my mind drifted elsewhere. The light of the small blaze, only a small fuzzy dot in my line of sight, while the miniature kitchen was tinged a colour similar to the orange of a mandarin.

“You were nearly killed.”

And as though the room itself had become that blade of scorching heat, the blinding scorch of the two swords flashed like fireworks in my head, a fleeting image that lasted as long as I held my breath, only to dwindle like the spots left in the sky as they fell down to billowing pillars of smoke. I supposed the flames set around the room, reminded me of him.

Intruding on my quiet time, as he always did before.

I conjured the moment up in my mind, the image starting to move as I recalled the first words he’d said to me.

Eyes of scorn, a frown in his voice. Unblinking in his task of cutting down the creature that had lead me to the border of life and death.

A teacher, rid of his duties once I’d, “grown out” of my need for him.

You couldn’t count with two pairs of hands, how many times I had needed saving during my time as his student.

There was that one time, where he’d slaughtered a Menos, that I’d so naively and foolishly approached, it’s black towering figure and booted white feet a bait for my curiosity. Never had I been so embarrassed as I was burnt by it’s massive and powerful Ceros, and was forced to flee.

A core memory of mine--

I blinked, startled by the shrill whistle of the kettle as steam shot from the spouts and the lid that clattered against it’s metal body, distracting me from my momentary reminiscence. I scrambled to extinguish the candle, and move it from out under the rack. Once the flame was safely out, I opened a smaller drawer beneath the counter, hand feeling around for a small cup I’d found left in there. I brushed against something smooth and light, and brought out a miniature white handleless porcelain mug. I lifted it up and set it down next to the kettle-- Not too close.

I let out a sigh, shaking away the traces of the day-dream session I’d had.

It’s a habit I forget I even have.

…

Now then, where was that earl gray packet I saw earlier?

“Should be somewhere, up in the cupboards,” I muttered, eyes squinting as I opened the miniature door to a shelf inside, and upon finding nothing except a few silverware sets, I closed it. I shuffled to my right to open another cupboard, the door swinging open with the hinge squeaking--

My sleeve brushed against a thinner and smaller glassware, and before I could react, it began to fall from it’s unstable spot on the shelf, and smashed onto the hard floor.

“sh*t.” I whispered, tongue clicking at my clumsy mistake. It lay in cracked and sharp fragments, the glass nearly invisible in the dimming light of the lantern’s flame. Now I had to look for a broom.

The kettle would stay hot for a while, my tea could wait just a few minutes. Luckily, as I bent down to inspect the blade-like clutter, I spied a straw-bristled brush and a pale right beneath the oven.

I kneeled down slowly, reaching out for the brush and the pale-- And once it was in my hands, I began sweeping at the remains of the glass cup, sliding them into the pale slowly.

Every time I thought I was done, somehow there would be an even smaller, or slightly larger piece that lay scattered across the room. I should have been more careful. I can’t afford to leave this behind for someone else to step on once I’m gone.

I discovered yet another segment of the cup, lying a foot away from me in the direction of the room I’d been sitting in. I crawled forward, adjusting my position on my knees, the dark hallway leading to the single room barely in my field of vision as I looked down at the matted ground--

“Katja.”

The whisper of my name yawned out before me from the dark corridor. I felt myself tense, as I slowly let go of the brush and the pale, and my head lifted up to face in front of me the person who’d entered the room without my knowledge. It was impossible, I would have picked up on something, the presence of another. It unnerved me further that I failed to recognize who or what it was.

My eyes had only just adjusted to the lack of light, but I could see it as clear as though it were day.

I looked up, my breath quickening in my chest.

A wispy black silhouette, deformed with the outlines of it’s figure blurred. A faceless shadow, the depths of it’s features missing. No mouth. No eyes. It only stood, unmoving as the blackness of it’s body seemed to warp in a rhythm of it’s own, as though it were a manifestation of the dark behind it. It didn’t have any eyes.

But I could feel eyes watching me, the insecurity of knowing something was there.

It was like I was in a rift between worlds, between time and space, there was only me, and this thing.

It faced me. I could only feel, it. I felt my heart throb within my ribcage, knowing not when to flee or lunge forward to make it disappear. Trapped, as it seemed to move closer without lifting a finger.

I was stuck, turned to stone.

No matter how many times it appeared before me, it never ceased to strike a silent dread into the depths of my core, forcing me to feel shaken and distracted, a constant subjugation to it’s presence though I pleaded it to stay away.

Why? These hallucinations, haven’t gone away since I’d killed him.

It bent down, it’s head keeping upright while it’s legs remained straight, it’s back lowering down to me.

I felt it’s cold breathe above my face, and I could only look down-- I’d faced it so many times, yet I wouldn’t dare lift my head. I could never look at it again, after I’d seen it in the mirror.

“Why, won’t you?”

My heart crashed against it’s confines, and I stiffened immediately as I heard it speak in it’s somber tone, the two-toned voice screeching against my eardrums, words reverbating and bouncing around in my head.

I looked up.

I came face to face with it, staring into the pitch black void of where a face should be. No reflection of myself in two eyes. Nothing resembling that which was human.

I felt cold.

I saw it’s hand reach towards me out of the corner of my eye, and mine failed to move to stop it--

“Ishida-san?”

I gasped, jolting, blinking myself out of that nightmare. My hands found themselves on the brush and pale again, and I exhaled shakily. I squinted as a person, barely illuminated by the light of the small lantern they held, peeked in from the outside. I controlled myself-- I was in control of my body again.

“Y-yes, that is me. Did you.. Need something?” I breathed out, closing my eyes briefly as I calmed the rest of me, not wishing for my composure to break, else someone start to inquire things about me again. I attempted to brush the last glass shard towards me, and silently cursed my shaking hand. I hoped it was dark enough that they wouldn’t see. I cleared my throat as I tucked the pale behind me, standing up on two feet from my knees, smoothing out the wrinkles on the robe. I turned to fully face the person before me, and all of a sudden their voice and garments, along with their appearance registered in my mind. Again, reproving myself, I held back my expression of embarrassment as I instantly drew my feet together and bowed low--

“Ah! No, not at all, Ishida-san. I was only here to check up on you, after all, it is your first time staying here at my Squad Division, if my memory serves correctly.” The woman before me chuckled warmly, stepping inside.

A light flowery breeze followed, possibly from her, or even the garden nearby. She noticed me still in my greeting position, and hushedly, urged me to rise.

“I understand. I’m sorry if I came off as unwelcoming, Suzuki-taichou. I just wasn’t expecting you here tonight.” I nodded, straightening myself out as my hands folded together in front of me, fiddling with each other idly.

Perhaps I sounded displeased with her? Already, this night has gone off to a bad start with my hostess.

“I have prepared some hot water, would you like some tea? It is late at night, but, usually I like having something to drink at this time.” I gestured to the kitchen behind me, bowing my head again.

I was surprised, but relieved for her company. The captain of the Fourth Division, had come to see me.

Keiko Suzuki.

“That would be nice, thank you, Ishida-san. You can address me less formally, I’m not here to order you around, at least not yet.” She joked, her gaze focused on me as I walked into the kitchen. “How do you like it here? I don’t get too many visitors from the other factions.. Is it to your tastes?” She sat on one of the pillows in the main room, adjusting her legs into a kneeling position on the floor. While she waited for my answer, I glimpsed her staring into the direction of the dark hallway.

I held two handleless mugs in my hand, placing the tea mixture in before pouring the hot water, steam spilling into the air. I wiped off the excess drops with a small cloth, and held the warming cups in my hands, walking over to where Keiko sat. I handed her the cup, and she took it in her hands, taking a generous sip before setting it on the ground as she hummed contentedly.

“It is quite nice. Minimalistic, not too overly decorated. You’d think it would be a downside, but theres a certain charm to it. It might even give the guests a chance to decorate the space themselves.” I took a small sip of the tea, a sweet but bitter mixture that did well to soothe my nerves. Keiko nodded, her gaze drifting off to the side as she took in my reply.

“And as for the clothes I provided, are they comfortable? I had them tailored in your size when you’d first come to the Soul Society, just in case you paid a visit-- Oh! I hope that doesn’t creep you out, I was just anxious on whether or not you would have a change of clothes.” Her hand came up to wave at the air, laughing light-heartedly. “Unfortunately, Aizen-san hadn’t paid much heed to the tourism part. He was eager to get the formalities over and done with, which is a shame, considering I only had a short amount of time to spend with you.” She sighed, and I blinked a few times. I hadn’t known that she’d been so prepared for my arrival there, to the point where she’d stealthily gotten hold of my measurements in terms of clothing. Or was it an estimate?

“I’m sorry as well. I was also, focused on the strict meeting and introductions, like my teacher.” I reassured her, deciding that I’d question her method of obtaining my clothing size so accurately at a later date. “But the clothing is lightweight, compared to what I’ve been wearing before. It’s a pleasant texture. Satin, with some sort of knit wool. It isn’t tight either, or too loose. I send my compliments to your tailor.” I gave a small smile, and she beamed back.

“I’m so glad. I’m assuming your stay has been left undisturbed as well? I know that our night patrol can be a bit, well, distracting this late.. But I assure you, they’re only here to ensure our safety. Though, I can’t say for certain their curiosity for you can be contained.” Keiko took another long sip of her tea. “However, if anyone decides to act in a hostile or rude manner towards you, please notify me. I don’t wish for you to feel like a foreigner here.”

She did want to live up to her words, and through her generosity in providing me with my own room and clothes, as well as food-- Her visitation only confirmed her true intentions, that she did want me to feel at home.

I relaxed, after moments of tension. This woman was kind-- So kind to the point where I’d dare not let myself slip into the careless lax of it, and overstep my place as a mere visitor and outsider, as much as she’d like to change my mindset on my being of one.

“I appreciate this, Suzuki-san. Thank you, truly.” I folded my hands together on my lap, voice soft as a wearied heart felt touched by her words. “I trust that your hospitality will pay back in the future, and that you will receive many more visitors that will come to know you.”

Keiko seemed to turn a shade similar to her hair, and she looked down, letting out a sheepish laugh.

“My, I am deeply grateful for your input. I never knew an old soul like me could feel bliss again, as though I were a young girl of past years.” Keiko pressed a hand to her heart, her wide smile a pleasantry to look at.

“Surely, you can’t be so old? You look younger than someone like me, please don’t say such demeaning things.” I half-joked, returning her smile as a bright laugh sounded from the woman across me. I’m unsure of her exact age and was in no position to ask of yet, but knowing that Soul Reapers age differently, and maintain an appearance that betrays their actual lifespan-- I could only comment on how she still retains her youthful vigor.

I wonder if I’m the only one growing senile, in my mid-twenties it’s far too soon for this to happen to me.

“Ah.. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to chat leisurely with someone. Far too often I’m wrapped up in documents and registries for the Division Squads. I don’t get sent out on missions too often, yet it always seems that I have something to do beyond that.” The rose-haired Shinigami wiped a tear from her eye, grinning as her fit of laughter subsided. I gave a hum, relating to the busyness she spoke of. “I do miss the days when all my job entailed was to purify a few hollows and lead Kaido lessons. Even a nightly patrol such as the ones my subordinates do.. I feel as though sitting around doing paperwork will cause my mind to wander, my sword to rust.” Keiko finished the last of her tea, a glow of nostalgia in her eyes as her gaze drifted down to the empty cup.

I took another ample sip, allowing us some silence with the night’s ambience. The cicadas outside had quieted down, and only a few shinigami had passed the room.

“I feel the same as you,” I began, and Keiko looked up in surprise, “My time as a rookie Quincy has since ended, yet it only seemed like yesterday I had been recruited into their forces, doing much more meaningful work for Her Majesty, like gathering intel, purifying hollows just as you do-- Keeping rogues in our own army in check. Now, even in my position as one of the Sternritter.. The work I do now, is mundane. Almost like there is nothing else to do, but wait for a problem that will arise, one only I can overcome with my power.”

I traced the cups edge, the tea still warm.

“But we don’t want any problems. Maybe one day, there will be no need for us.” Strangely, there was no emotion in my voice, like I was hearing myself from outside my body. Sadness, or anger at the fact that we may die out once more, a forgotten legacy like we once were, none were present.

I was merely stating a fact.

Keiko however, seemed to find my words troubling, her expression now crestfallen. I hesitated, not saying much more. I wasn’t sure if I had ruined the mood.

“Well, my point is, that often I find myself reminiscing about earlier days. Ah, right, I had actually remembered the first day I’d met my teacher.” I quickly changed the subject, although it was along the lines of what we were discussing previously. Keiko’s small smile shifted onto her face, but I could sense there were some lingering feelings on what I’d mentioned. Doubt, something akin to reluctance.

“Is that so? Do tell me about it, I’m curious to see how our markedly skilled Fifth Division Captain came upon you.” Keiko seemed equally eager to hear about my tall tale. “After all, he was the one who’d taken an interest in you, though it may be mere coincidence that you were the topic of our conversation and he’d taken a chance at attending-- I doubt he’s one to do anything without purpose.”

I stopped, a few questions raised in my head. I set down my cup on the mat.

“..You had all known of me, prior to my meeting of him and I?” I had my suspicions since the morning he’d indirectly revealed to me that there was some third party involved in his timed arrival. I hadn’t known however, that this third party were the Gotei 13 Court Guard Captains.

Keiko quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Hold on, you mean-- He didn’t tell you that myself and the rest of the Captains were involved?”

She gaped at my shock, and I blinked a few times in response.

“..Not exactly.” I shuffled awkwardly in my kneeling position, clearing my throat as the course of events dawned on Keiko, and she seemed to droop, a small bead of sweat dripping down one side of her face. The side of her lip twitched, and she brought a hand up to her forehead, sliding two fingers down to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“..I see. I suppose.. That’s characteristic of him.” Keiko muttered, more to herself than me. She exhaled slowly.

“The information would have alarmed you, nonetheless, and your guard would have been up. Many misunderstandings could have been set in stone-- As much as I find it hard to believe he’d hide such crucial contextual background.. It was for the better.” She held up two hands.

“I apologize again, Ishida-san. If I made you feel as though we were conspiring against you, or malignantly plotting something involving you behind your back, please, pardon us.” Keiko quickly bowed, and I stayed silent so as to let her reveal more.

“You see, I was tasked with safeguarding and ensuring the generations of noble clans and offspring of all those who bore power in the past, would grow to their full potential. Not only that, but it is to reassure the Council that none will pose a threat, such as vile and ungodly individuals like Tokinada Tsunayashiro, who threatened the balance of the Three Worlds, by robbing others of their bodies and stealing the Soul Kings fragments. We have been asked to keep a close eye on all who descend from powerful lineages, or even those of weaker bloodlines.” She continued to explain the particulars of her purpose.

“People like you, having grown into their adult stages and having manifested none of their powers, cultivating nothing-- I mean no offense, but you were in dire straits. You, of pure-blood, it would be an injustice to leave you to die without knowing how strong you could be. Which is why we hold those meetings, to address the problems in each generation.” Keiko made eye contact with me, an apology glinting in crimson irises.

“We have Ryosuke, to thank for raising you up. He had volunteered to train you, with little to no compensation for his deeds. We were fortunate enough for his help that doesn’t come very often, and truthfully.. None of us at the time had the experience to go in depth with a Quincy.” Keiko held out a hand to mine, and I took it. I didn’t know what expression I wore on my face. I was taken aback by the fact that yes, people had known of my situation and had almost given up, and that information was hidden from me.

But as Keiko held my hand, firmly squeezing it, I could feel that what she was saying was true-- She wasn’t withholding anymore from me, and her apology was unfeigned, and so was her concern. I let go of her hand, and she withdrew, breaking eye contact with me.

“We also have to thank your patience with our dear teacher-- He could only do so much to help your case.”

Her hands folded back together on her lap, the white captain’s robe creasing under her arm.

“I’m sure your resolve was questioned by many foes, and perhaps by friends as well,”

“Despite it all, you’re here. I found it a blessing, to see you faring much better than how my attendants first described you. To witness you in the flesh, wielding a strength you fostered yourself-- I’m glad you’re finally here, Katja Ishida.”

I felt something hot forming at the edges of my eyes, and turned my head away to blink them back.

I hadn’t spoken a word, and even if I did, there was nothing to fully form the words I wanted to say.

I hadn’t sought power for acknowledgement, for approval of others-- I wanted to see it myself, and say that I was strong, no longer weak. I didn’t crave words of praise.

Yet, her recognition of me seemed to melt away that frame of mind.

It, felt nice, for once.

I lowered my head, long hair hiding my face for a few seconds as I composed myself, and I brushed it out of the way once I was ready to face her again.

“..Thank you, Suzuki-taichou.”

…

The night had finally nestled itself securely in the sky, the new moon only a faint blackened outline in the sky.

We’d continued chatting, with several servings of tea and a few fruit biscuits Keiko had found in the pockets of her robe. Only after the patrol had gone to bed, we had decided to take a stroll out in the gardens, a secret grotto hidden away behind the quarters, sheltered by a canopy of towering trees and various shrubbery, the vivacious scent of wild flowers and lilies on the pond drifting up in a shroud of earthly fragrance. Keiko explained that the Fourth Division Squad had one of newer and more modern renovation, it’s area surpassing that of three Rukongai districts packed into a single square-- It made sense, considering that their Division specializes in medicine and recuperation, that they’d need as much space as possible to provide for their patients.

The Council had allowed it because of such righteous purpose, but Keiko had secretly planted an expansive garden nearby to her own room, where she kept it safely hidden, and tended to it on her off days. She claimed she has plans to one day introduce it as a sort of therapy to her patients, having gained inspiration from the methods used to treat people in the mental health care unit within the World Of The Living. The boardwalk lead further into the garden, and we passed an archway of vines littered with miniature jasmine blooms, while the walkway was lined with bushels of camellia flowers. There were fireflies flitting up in the air, mimicking the stars with their warm light, while butterflies of a dazzling blue, a peculiar blood red, and yellow rested on the leaves of daffodils and verbena. The grass was a rich green, ticklish as we stepped off the boardwalk. The garden seemed to go on forever. We continued to wander aimlessly, exchanging a word to each other in regards to the types of plant-like all around us. I commented on how it reminded me of Keiko’s own abilities, who’s Zanpakuto could materialize the flowers of the cherry trees in a sharp rush-- Even her own powers, were a beautiful sight to behold, if you were on her side, of course.

“I’ve only seen the basic Shikai form of your sword-- The release of the spiritual energy was an overwhelming sensation. Yet, it didn’t feel as suffocating as I thought it would have been.” I gestured to the sheathe the sword was held in on her left side. She nodded.

“At my will, I can enforce how concentrated and heavy the output of my spiritual energy is-- Along with the sensation of how much reiatsu one can sense using their own “sight.” During the release of said power from within the Zanpakuto however, it is not something I can easily control. The suffocating feeling often comes from the aggravation or strong emotions that cause a shift in a persons Reiryoku, thus altering how their Reiatsu is sensed in the vicinity.” She tapped the handle of her sword, her fingers brushing against the brass of the cover.

“Such curious things, the nature of our Zanpakuto, as well as our spiritual body and it’s capabilities.” She mused, a mere afterthought, as she stared off straight ahead.

One foot after the other, we went further. But she spoke up after a time, again.

“The Soul King has blessed us with such bodies, the way of the world-- Giving you and your kind, Quincies, the powers you have now. It’s a fearsome ability, to absorb and command the reishi within your body and around it-- It’s the very component that makes up our own body, and to do what you do, is not something we can simply inherit.” She said this without looking at me, trusting that I’d move along with her. However, she slowed her pace.

“Your ancestor, Uryu Ishida, stepped in to stop the Quincy King, Yhwach, and succeeded in aiding his allies in preventing the destructive reconstruction of the Three Worlds as we know it. His goal, was with good intention, but would result in catastrophic consequences if he’d remained undefeated.”

At the sudden mention of a revered relative, I glanced at her, urging her to keep talking.

“Really? Do you know any more about him?” The textbooks and records in the archives I’d kept had been an excellent resource back then, but there was more than what was written, surely?

I felt a bit silly, pleading with her to tell me more, like a young girl unable to sleep because of her mother’s story leaving her on a cliffhanger.

“Well, all I know is the bare bones of it, and I assume you know of the special arrow he used? Although it’s power was crucial to defeating him, Uryu’s own abilities, the schrift of Antithesis, along with his own quick thinking allowed him to exploit a weakness in Yhwach’s “Almighty.” His will and resolve was especially important in this war. I wish I could have seen it.”

I’d read of this long before. How many generations have passed since his time? To think that perhaps it wasn’t all too long ago, to think that I’d inherited his name and his blood--

Every time I’d recount this historic event in story form, I never failed to feel a sense of pride.

Yet the fear that I would never live up to his legacy, that I would be known as a stain on it all, caused that same pride to distort into dread and fear, a hopelessness that would never leave my mind.

“He, along with his allies, achieved something in a lifetime that I could never hope to accomplish within my own.” I blurted aloud the thought. We kept walking, however.

“You’re right. I say this applies to myself as well.” She replied, still not looking back at me, and I tried to find the words to protest to her opinion of herself, cursing my blunder.

“But, I-” I was in disagreement with such a disparaging outlook on her own feats, and fearing that I’d indirectly insulted her, I tried to interrupt, but a hand silenced me, and I trailed off. She kept walking, and I bit my tongue to stop myself from speaking.

“Ishida-san, humbly I say this, I don’t picture myself surviving against the forces of Yhwach and his feared Sternritters. That, was an era which demanded the most of the ones on the frontlines,” A butterfly brushed past us, and she paused, holding out a finger for it. It came to rest on her bent pointer finger. “And even if I did, someone so weak-hearted like me, would despair upon seeing the deaths of so many shinigami. The ones I pass in the halls, the ones I see on my way to the Rukongai-- Even those innocent citizens, would have been caught in the crossfires. The people I treasure most, I would lose.” Just as the butterfly raised it’s wings to fly, she closed her fist, trapping it in a blink in her palm. I held my breath, assuming that I’d see the crumpled and withered corpse of the insect once she’d open her hand.

“If it was not death, that I’d fall into, it would have been something else that would swallow me up, alive.”

We kept walking, the garden seeming to span miles.

“Ultimately, we had won the war, Ishida-san, and that was one of many problems we had solved. Many more arose, but we could not be consumed by our strife and exhaustion, no matter how many times we wound up facing a new one, while another lurked, waiting to catch us off guard.” The hand she held the crushed butterfly in dropped to her side, her fist held tight.

“But you see, Katja, we do not need warriors to fight for us all the time. We will solve our own conflicts-- Put it this way, do you think we need a warrior to solve a lovers spat? A silly question, but do you think we need such a person for this situation?”

I shook my head. “..No, I’m sure friends, relatives, even the two lovers can solve it themselves.”

She nodded, a smile on her face.

“Yes. You’re correct. Problems have all sorts of solutions, but some may require more effort than others. A lovers quarrel, versus a war of carnage-- Both have their own time, place, and people. With each era invites in a new set of problems we’d never faced before, and as much as I would’ve liked to witness this great war myself, I wouldn’t have wanted to live through the sheer devastation it wrought on our courageous fighters. Just as we continue to live, and times change,” She held up the hand with the butterfly’s body, “so too do we need people that adapt and change with it.”

“So, when you said that there will one day be no more need for you, and your kind,”

She opened her palm, and with it, the butterfly was unscathed, the crimson glow of it’s scales glittering vibrantly. It flew up into the air, climbing the invisible ladder ascending towards the skies,

“I believe that there is a need for everyone in this world, to be born, to live, and face this perpetual cycle of problems that sprout, like weeds, never exterminated as long as one exists.” Her tone turned grim.

She stopped, and turned towards me, and I could only stand there speechless, not knowing what to say as she looked me in the eyes with an unreadable expression.

“We will have troubles in this world. Shinigami, Hollow, Fullbringer, Quincy, Human-- Regardless of our purpose and existence, there will always be a need for you, and the others to overcome that which plagues us daily.”

“Do not doubt your contribution to this world, and do not place your faith in a future where you do not exist.”

“This time, we may not have wars for you to fight in, and you may feel weak some days,” she placed a hand on my shoulder, “but life demands a different kind of strength in everyone.” She took her hand off my shoulder, and gave a small smile to me.

I was stunned. Not only did she manage to disperse the unconsciously self-deprecating opinion I’d had, but presented her world view to me, and of it’s people, simply. Even though, I felt as if it were meant to relieve me of the burden put on my shoulders, it did more than just lift it temporarily-- No, I still had expectations to live up to. This feeling of fragility, insecurity was still there.

But instead, I’d been renewed, like the burden had gotten lighter.

That it felt like the cloud cover, and the heavy shackles, were something I could persevere through, for the moment.

I opened my mouth to speak, and closed it as I realized no words could come forth from it.

“You see, that is my purpose. I wanted to help raise up, people such as yourself. I still do, and I haven’t stopped with just you. In fact, I don’t think, we’re quite finished your case as of yet.”

Her voice broke me out of my head, and as it registered, I tilted my head to the side, perplexed by the meaning behind what she’d uttered. Her mood switched, from wearing a grave expression to a more unanxious and blithe one.

“What do you mean by that?” My brows knitted together, uncertain and put at unease. Did she mean to say that I was still lacking in some area? I know that I have my tendencies in battle, however, if I was unaware of another vital puzzle piece, it would help if she’d know the answer.

“I do hope you won’t hold a grudge against your friend, Kuchiki-san. She slipped a small notice to me, that she observed a certain gap in your relationship with Eidolon, your Schift’s “spirit.” I had overheard her muttering about it while I passed, and couldn’t help my piqued curiosity.”

I relaxed my shoulders, but remained tense. Anything at all regarding Eidolon, made me feel vulnerable, for a number of reasons.

“So, I interrogated Kuchiki-san, and she said that the problem arose because of a similar occurrence that happens with our own Zanpakuto spirits. You’ve had a similar conversation before, correct?”

I nodded, recalling how Masanuma mentioned overcoming an obstacle that thus, determines whether or not the wielder of said sword deserves to learn the true name of their Zanpakuto Spirit. It wasn’t only a matter of overcoming in most cases, but also gaining strength themselves if the situation called for it. Dread had already started to set in. If she knew this much, then, I feared how much she would reveal to me, whether it be the reality of my weakness here--

Or my past.

“I’ve surmised that what has happened with you and Eidolon, is that you two haven’t “aligned” yourselves.

Just like a Soul Reaper purs their very soul into their bare Asauchi, and forms the basis of the Zanpakuto spirit in the sword, those two differing beings have to learn to become one. Else, your own sword will turn against you in battle, if not in the literal sense.”

I was aware of this, and I still didn’t have the means to solve the dilemma I had on my hands.

The main set back, was that I couldn’t communicate with Eidolon properly, no matter how hard it tried to convey the words it wanted to me to know, it’s speech was restricted.

“Often, communication at such an immature level is impacted, mostly one way from spirit to shinigami.

Or, we have trouble speaking or understanding our spirits. It must be the same case for you, Ishida-san.”

I gave a quick nod, and she gave a knowing grunt in response.

“It’s settled then. We’ll give it a shot then. Follow me, will you?” She turned, and without elaborating, she picked up the pace, heading deeper into the gardens, hopping off the trail we were on, going deeper into the forest.

I hurried after her, the hopeful side of me overriding the one of indecision.

“Suzuki-taichou, what are we going to do?” I called after her as she ducked under low hanging branches of a large willow tree, and I rushed to not lose sight of her, lifting the branches and vines out of my way, stumbling into a clearing, the scent of chamomile invading my sense of smell as I brushed away flowers that clung to my robe. She stood in the middle of the clearing, and I could hear faint whispers under her breath-- A quieted chant.

“Within the boundaries, between the grave and the ground, shield and keep us from that which seeks to harm, I bestow the resolve with which to protect and defend.”

From her hands, which were clasped together, materialized a blinding pole of light. She stabbed it into the earth, and at the top, a flag of iridescent gold shone with a warm illuminance. A dome formed from the tip of the pole, and descended to the ground in a circle, marking it’s circumference with unrecognizable inscriptions in a foreign language.

“Bakudo #78-- Flag Of Resolve!”

She let go of the pole, and it whirred and hummed, flowing veins of electricity it seemed, and pulsating reishi took root at where it was impale through the ground, traveling up to where the flag was situated, distributing it’s power evenly along the barrier.

I could see it, clearly.

“It’s safe to walk inside. I’ll keep this up until we’ve finished here.” She beckoned me over with a hand, and I shuffled over, entering the barrier. There was a small disturbance in the translucent layer of the dome as I passed through, a ripple effect as I entered within it’s inner area. It felt no different than being on the outside-- Just slightly warmer.

“This here, is a special binding and defensive spell. Oh, you can leave and enter whenever you’d like to-- It’s not for containing people, but rather, the effects of of spiritual energy and matter that are otherwise harmful to others. Any harm inflicted to the people within is transferred to the flag’s pole, which will store it and instantly disperse it to the outer dome, breaking once a person has suffered enough damage. Meaning, that once you are within it’s reach, harm cannot be done to you as long as I, the wielder, recognize you as a means to be “protected.” It will respond to my will, so you don’t have to worry about hurting yourself in here.”

“..Hurting myself?” I was still as lost as before. She gestured for me to sit on the grass, as the dome surrounded us still.

“Yes. You see, we Soul Reapers are only able to truly communicate with our inner spirit, also known as the Zanpakuto Spirit, by way of meditation-- A specific, slumber-like stasis called Jinzen. It is when our bodies are left on this plane, while our very Souls, traverse in the world our Zanpakuto spirits reside. It takes patience to learn, and is a lengthy process.” She sat down across from me in a criss cross.

“So, I plan to replicate this process with you, despite you being a Quincy, your Schrift functions similarly enough to our own Zanpakuto spirit, which is a rare happening. But because of the nature of how your Schrift is bestowed, an imprint on the Soul, rather than the giving of your Soul, I’m a bit skeptical that this will work like how I want it.” She took the sheathed sword, and held it out in front of her.

“Hurting yourself is common during Jinzen. During our trials against our Zanpakuto Spirit, we do battle, with our Soul at risk. However, any harm inflicted on the Soul will not reflect on the body. But, I’m not sure if that will be the case with you, a Quincy.”

It clicked.

“You.. Want me to perform Jinzen, and directly address, Eidolon?”

She gave a half nod, looking away. It seemed that at the prospect of me facing Eidolon head-on, worried her.

“Yes. I am unable to do this with other Quincies, because of the way their Schrift functions. However, Masanuma sensed that the originator of your Schrifts essence, is located where your Soul rests. She cannot sense exactly what it is, but because of it’s close ties with your Soul, its possible that Eidolon works closely like the Zanpakuto. It’s even more convenient that you’re in your konpaku, your spirit form.”

“But the choice is yours, Ishida-san.”

I was hesitant. My chances at succeeding were slim, and already, we both weren’t sure if this method would work. Would Eidolon choose to defy me once more? Would I be killed, if worst comes to worse?

I had so many questions. Doubts, fears-- This feeling of dread I could not rid myself of.

I breathed in, and out.

In, and out.

“I’ll try.” I finally replied. I won’t keep myself here, waiting for something to happen on it’s own.

“If something happens to me, if something goes awry--”

“I’ll worry about that.” Keiko held my hand.

I nodded.

“Do you have your five star cross necklace with you? You should keep it on your person while you meditate, just as we keep our swords on hand.”

I rummaged through the pocket of my robes, and feeling the cool chain link brush against my fingertips, I brought it out. I unlocked the tiny clasp linking the two ends together, and held them up behind my neck, connecting the two. I let go, allowing the necklace to fall against my collarbone.

“Even without your Schrift in activation, I’m sure that you can communicate with Eidolon once you’ve successfully transcended to it’s world. After all, bearing our weapons at them would be distasteful.” Keiko gave one last joke, before placing a palm on mine, and after grasping it, brought it up to my chest.

“Close your eyes, and take your stance.”

Following her commands, I placed one hand on each knee, keeping my breaths equal and steady.

“Remember, that you must prevail over Eidolon, but keep yourself in line, if you can. You main goal, is to?”

“Become one with who it is.”

“That’s right.”

By the time Keiko had responded, I’d already started feeling distant from the world. No ground to stabilize my balance, the air growing thick like an impenetrable smog that made it tough to draw breathe. The edges of my vision grew dark, drifting into a dull sensation of inertia, enrapturing me, pulling me further into the black that crowded my sight. I fell slack, and involuntarily, I found myself submitting to the gradual wrench of cold hands dragging me towards a direction-- A destination I’d forgotten. Losing sight of which way was north or south, up and down, my eyes shut.

And through closed eyelids, a pure white light broke that trance.

On high, the skies obsidian eye watched, the new moon unblinking as the clouds soared past it.

Chapter 20: The Ghost Of Me - Part III

Chapter Text

Of Immorality, Out Of Love, Masquerading With The Dead

I fear that I have forsaken myself in vain.

I fear that I am the closest to what my heart has loathed

So let me be ignorant, if I may live the rest of my life with the joy knowing

That at least I am the empty shell, rather than housing what I’ve worked

To forever forget and eternally hate.

Let my remorse sink into the marrow of my bones

Lest my blood run with sin

And my hollow heart dare yearn for mercy,

How undeserving am I, the humane grace.

The white light that pried my eyelids open, had left me, disappearing as soon as my eyes opened to the world.

Instead, as shapes and forms reappeared before me, the white was stolen from everything around me, replaced by a monotone grey, landscapes a sullen achromatic in shades of black. My head spun wildly, as I sat up from the ground I found myself laid upon, muscles stiff and cold-- And when I looked down to check if I was still in one piece, I was left reeling, dumbfounded.

In this eerily colourless dimension I’d wound up in-- My own body did not match this bleached version, my skin and clothes and even my hair, preserving their inherent colours. I stuck out, an unusual fabrication of saturation and bright contrast within this world of mere black and white. Even the skies, were a sorrowful grey, the sun, only barely noticeable beyond the lifeless heavens. The air was flat, stale, but breathable. No trace of the smog I’d found myself suffocating in. Not a sound could be heard, the gentle caress of the wind nowhere to be felt.

An unnerving silence, that I wished could be filled, by at least something.

I started to take in my surroundings. A meadow, similar to the one I’d been in. Except, I could see hills, and mountains in the distance, a stark black with lighter peaks. Trees dotted the land from afar, while all around me, were bushes and flowers encircling the meadow that crawled on for miles. Tall grass brushed against the skin above my ankles as I took a few unsure steps forward. The sky was open, with no branches or leaves obscuring the view I had. I stared upwards, wondering if those skies at night would glitter with the cape of stars and faraway planets. I shook myself. If this was truly my inner world, I couldn’t get enraptured by the scenery, distracted from my main goal. I needed to find, Eidolon.

I dropped my head, instead scanning around me once more. Keiko had not informed me how large ones world could span, but surely it would not be infinite. If I had wounded up here, then it was with purpose--

Eidolon would not reveal itself to me so easily, however.

I did another once-over, raking over the bushes and nearby forest-- And spied a smaller house, one I didn’t recognize. It must have been harder for me to see, considering that it blended so well with the shades of grey. Without light, it would be impossible for me to find my way around, because of the lack of colour difference.

At night, if it did exist within this realm.. No, if time existed, then..

The sun hung high in the sky, but was slowly moving west.

Did a day within this world, mean a day in the real one?

And if that meant what it did, then I couldn’t spend too much time in here. Keiko should be able to hold the barrier she’d put up for a few hours, at most, but if it’s effects were weakened because there are two of us, then my time could be shortened.

The sense of urgency only pulled me towards the house, and my instincts gravitated towards entering it.

I couldn’t sense any presence nearby.

I placed a foot on the first doorstep, the wood creaking under the weight of it. The sides of the stairs were a pale grey, while the steps were a shade of charcoal. Rickety but well carved stone eaves lines the rooftops. The wooden sidings of the house were a mallow pewter, the windows covered by cloud-coloured thin fabric curtains, as I peered through one of them. I reached the top stair, my hands leaving the smooth railings. A carpet of flint grey was placed neatly in front of the door, soft beneath my bare soles. Tentatively, I brought a hand up, inches from the black door. It didn’t have any doorbell to ring, only a circular doorknob. I wasn’t in a rush, at least, not enough to try and intrude first chance I had.

If I displeased Eidolon, would it give me the boot from it’s realm? I sighed.

I knocked twice, my knuckles tapping against the hard black wood. I waited for something, if not Eidolon, to answer the door. I took one step back, eyeing the windows to check for any movement inside.

It felt, unbearably awkward. My unease remained. Perhaps I hadn’t knocked enough? Was it three times? Or more?

I padded forward, knocking three times.

No reply.

I waited, and I counted how many minutes had ticked by. I tapped my foot on the carpet.

..12 minutes.

I was both worried, and impatient. I didn’t like to intrude, or trespass.

But I too, was on my own schedule. With a trembling hand, bated breath, my hand reached for the knob.

I wrapped my palm, and enclosed the rest of my fingers around the doorknob, cool to the touch.

I twisted it slowly.

Click.

It was unlocked? I dismissed my thoughts of reprimand, rebuking me for my decision in wasting time.

..At least I had tried knocking.

The door hinged open with a squeak, and I cringed, as it did so. I peered inside through the crack, squinting as I tried my best to find any traces of life. Or the black spirit. There was none.

I opened the door wider, and placed one foot inside, and then the other, slipping through the opening and over the threshold, and closing the front door behind me. I shut it, and let go of the doorknob carefully, pushing it back into the jambs on the side. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and with trepidation, I took my first step into the dim hallway, putting my weight in my toes, and then the rest of my heels. The walls were lines with intricately carved baseboards, the floor a more polished wood. Ahead, I saw beyond the corner, a miniature kitchen. I checked for any other noises, footsteps, the thud of furniture-- Nothing, except my own breathing, and my heart pounding in my ears. I made my way to the kitchen, and having seen no one, I relaxed. A metal sink with an arched spout, the handles of the faucet turned horizontally. Cupboards with curved grips were situated above the countertop, next to the faucet, while larger drawers lay closed underneath the sink. A fruit basket, bananas, apples, oranges and a few grapes were untouched on the diner table in the unoccupied area of the kitchen, a thinner piece of wood dividing the kitchen in two. I gently traced the edge of the square stove. No warmth.

A gentle stream of white light shone through the curtains, that sat ajar in front of the window above the sink.

I glanced over at the diner table, discovering the fridge that was placed against the fossil-grey wall. On the door of the fridge, a single piece of paper, caught my attention.

I scanned around for anyone, and tip-toed over to the table, tucking in a chair by lifting and setting it down closer. I wasn’t in any mood to raid a persons fridge, especially if it belonged to Eidolon. It probably wouldn’t care to offer me food anyways. I reached the fridge, briefly glancing out two sets of large rectangular windows leading to a balcony. I let some of my tension leave, and turned my attention to the paper hanging on the fridge, a single magnet with a bow fastening it to the door. A penciled drawing, lines of grey that matched the worlds appearance. The drawing entailed a small house, surrounded by trees and grass, neatly drawn triangles behind the house sketched out lightly to bring the house out into the forefront.

It, was like a portrait in honour of the place this house was in--

No, rather that this world, took the shape of what this drawing held, a carbon copy materialized on paper, taking shape in this dull world. I traced the indents left by a pencil that pressed too hard into the thin sheet, ingraining the blueprints to a point where the stains of lead couldn’t be erased, smudges of grey and black faint outside the lines. Upon a closer examination, I spied a signature, down at the right hand corner. The writing resembled old-fashioned cursive, some letters connecting, while some didn’t.

By, Katja Ishida.

No, it couldn’t be.

My fingertips ghosted over the name, disbelieving, I withdrew from the drawing.

Was this, a memory? I don’t, remember drawing such a thing.

I’d forgotten so much.

Feeling oddly, I took a single step back from the fridge, nearly bumping into the table behind me.

“What are you doing in my house?”

I gasped, flinching back violently, as I whirled around to face the light voice behind. I stumbled into the fridge door, accidentally knocking the drawing from it’s place, and it floated down to the ground, as I stared in front of me-- Dazed, my heart beating out of my chest. A hand clamped over my mouth, and my gaze dropped down.

A small, thin young girl stood across the opposite end of the table, her piercing yet owlishly curious gaze forcing mine to connect. She wore an oversized straw sunhat, drawn back against her head. The white pale strapped dress, with frills lining the upper torso and the end of the skirt, nearly caused me to mistake her for a ghost.

Despite appearing human, she too, possessed the grey colour of the world. Her eyes however, shone with a familiar silver. Short hair ran just above her shoulders, wispy bangs framing her round face and wide eyes.

She had her hands clenched together in front of her, one palm over the other in a defensive position. She stared up at me, hostility nor fear present-- Only a questioning as I saw myself reflected in shining orbs. She approached me no further, and didn’t dare move until I did.

I put my hands up to signal that I didn’t have any weapons on me. I ran my hands through my pocket, revealing nothing in them. Her eyes narrowed at me, and I let out a slow exhale. I bent down, one of my arms still up, and picked up the drawing. I held it in my hands, not wanting to crumple it. The magnet was probably under the table, but, I didn’t want to let my guard down around this child.

If it was truly me, or even some kind of illusion-- I didn’t wish to be stabbed in the back.

I extended the hand holding the drawing towards her, prompting her to take it for herself.

“I’m sorry for entering without your permission,” I got down on my knees, to her level, and slowly, I could sense that her anxiousness faded from her body, as she too, reached out a small hand, and took it from me.

“I’m a bit lost, but I am no thief. I was only searching for someone, until I saw that drawing of yours.” I explained, trying to level out my tone, to a gentler and softer pitch, concealing my surprise.

This girl, was me. When I was, seven years old. Wearing such attire, I could only assume that it was summertime here.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you.” I bowed my head low.

I heard a small noise of acknowledgement, as though she accepted my apology.

I heard her sandaled feet, shift a bit before me, and I looked up. Her mouth was pressed into the thin line I always wore on my face, when I was faced with unsurety, and I supposed, she was still wary of me.

I stood, my hands returning to their place in the air.

“I-.. I’m sorry, if I scared you, miss.” A higher-pitched voice, airy and light, cracked with a bit of apprehension, and her hands drooped to her side. She bowed, and I lowered my hands. “I-. Wasn’t expecting any visitors.. I don’t get any at all.” She tipped her sunhat to me, and then back up to stare up at me.

“You.. won’t hurt me?” Her question was asked, with a timidness that made my heart break.

She was everything I expected, and remembered myself to be. Hopeful, yet that same hope could be so easily crushed. She took a small step back from me, as though she predicted I would betray her, and go back on my words.

“I promise.” I replied, “I won’t bring you harm.”

I hadn’t done this in a while.

I held out a hand again, closing all fingers except for my pinky.

She blinked, and shyly, held her own pinky out to mine.

They locked together, and we shook our hands firmly. I let go of hers, and she seemed to stare at her own finger, wordlessly keeping the promise in her mind, before looking up at me again.

“Okay.”

I nodded. I wasn’t confident I’d gained her complete trust, knowing my past self, it would take a bit of honest talking and some admission of my own motives to get her to talk more. As much as I would have liked, to spend time with this younger version of me, something felt off about all this. This grey world, this memory, if this was my inner world, then was this girl Eidolon? I couldn’t just ask her, could I? I had to keep my manners in check, and as Keiko said, keep myself in line, if this was Eidolon I was speaking to.

Even so, a part of me whispered in the back of my mind--

That this wasn’t the person I was looking for. Eidolon could be disguising itself, and yet, I never believed it to be one that would parade as a child-like version of me. It didn’t make any sense.

My only option, was to somehow get this girl into revealing Eidolons whereabouts, which was a more daunting task than you’d think it to be. To get her to indirectly hint at Eidolon, or even slip up-- I hated to deceive myself like this, an innocent child. But my purpose here wasn’t to mingle with someone I had no need for.

Not anymore.

“I’m aware you may not trust me, milady.” I pulled up a chair, and sat down. She did the same, jogging to the opposite side of the table, sat herself down across from me and hesitantly, bobbed her head up and down.

“How about, I tell you about myself, and then you tell me more about you, hmm?” I returned her smile, and almost enthusiastically, she agreed with a bright “Yes!”

“I think this way, perhaps, I have no secrets left to hide from you. I know you’re smart-- So, bear with me, okay?” I scooched closer to the table, and folded my palms flat over each other, keeping my elbows off the edge.

She mirrored my pose, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

The spitting image.

I cleared my throat, and began talking. I made up a fake name for myself, and told her about my mission to find a certain someone of mine. I told a few half-truths, that this person was a close relative, and that I was from beyond the forest she resided in, a city just past the peaks of the mountains. She was fascinated, and we exchanged our favourite things, music, hobbies.. We laughed at the jokes I made, and she poked fun at my clothing, a peculiar object. She seemed to know nothing about the outside world, strangely, and only knew of the world surrounded by those hills-- Whether it be the flock of sheep and birds that came by, the many herbs and plants-- She even had her own garden. As she divulged her life here, this realm only raised more questions. This house, the nature around it-- It was like she reincarnated into the drawing on the fridge, away from her life in the city. The city of Karakura, was where this girl belonged.

So, how come, this memory of mine, was so twisted? In fact, it was like a fairy tale, that I’d find myself browsing as a young child.

The more disturbing part, was that my mother and father, were nowhere to be seen.

None of my elementary school friends, or even Ayabara, whom I’d been bonded with as a child, around her age.

She claimed, that it was only her, all this time. That she’d woke up, and found herself in the world from which a torn page of her sketchbook conjured.

“..Do you not miss, your parents?” I asked, as she looked down at her hands, her sunhat covering her face. She kicked her feet back and forth, humming in thought.

I knew the answer, long before she’d open her mouth to say it. A pointless inquiry on my part, but nevertheless, I had blurted it without meaning to pry.

“I don’t, at least, not desperately.”

We never had the best relationship. I stared, nodding.

“Mother and father, they argue a lot. They say they don’t love each other, and they’re tiring of me.”

Her feet kicking died down, and her mood seemed to dampen.

“She says, she doesn’t like seeing me. She wished she could leave.”

My heart ached, and my gut seemed to twist at these blunt truths. I remember those words.

“And, Father is out all the time. When he’s home, he has a smile on his face, but it’s empty. He says he’s not sad, but he kept lying to me. I didn’t like it when they lied to me.” Her fingers seemed to clench around the other, her skin whitening.

“Whenever I made a mistake, or said something my Father and Mother didn’t like, they would shout at me. Mostly mother. She said that it’s best I keep my mouth shut, because Father and other men don’t like girls who talk too much. When I tried saying that they don’t like it when I’m quiet, Mother slammed her fist down on the table, and told me I ran my mouth too much.”

I felt my blood run hot with anger. Yet, that was in the past. I had no reason to be angry about it anymore.

“And when Father comes home, and he’s in a bad mood, he storms off to his room. But, whenever I’m around and he’s angry, his words start slurring and he-..”

She trailed off. I closed my eyes, and grimaced.

“He would hurt you?” I finished for her, my eyes still shut, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“..Yeah.” Her voice was reduced to a whisper, a feeble cry.

I heard her sniffle, and I stared down as she wiped her tears from her eyes with her hands.

“He apologized, every-..time. He kept-.. Hurting me. He said sorry. If he said sorry, then everything was okay, right?” She asked me this time, and I shook my head. Of course not.

“Apologies, are meant to be said, only once, or at most, twice. If you apologize for something, it’s a vow that you never do it again.” I fixed her sunhat that had slid slightly askew, off her head. “Your Father, wasn’t in his right mind to do that to you.” I said, softly, as she wiped away the remains of her tears.

Taking advantage of a childs naivety, and deceiving them into believing that it was how normal relationships go.

I begged for an answer to this as a child, pleading the answer to why this was normalized in our family. Except, it went without a reply, and I continued to be raised in such an environment, where my own cries were ignored.

“He.. Kept saying, sorry. I didn’t know he couldn’t do it again.” She said, mid-sob, “And Mother never knew about it..”

She knew. Except she turned a blind eye, not knowing what to do, not bothering to get wrapped up in another “trivial,” disagreement with her husband.

“I.. Wanted it to stop. I did what I could.. I was, at the top of my class, so why?..”

I felt sick. A sudden indigestion, like something were trying to tear my intestines from it’s place in my body from the outside. I clenched my teeth within a closed mouth, looking away from the younger girl.

Just how, could my father and mother continue living life as they pleased, while their own child suffered before their eyes? Did my father or mother, ever shed a tear for this pitiful, shattered shell of a girl?

“..So, when I woke up here, away from my family, but also my friends, I was sad.. But, relieved.”

“I want to disappear somewhere, faraway from here.”

The words I’d prayed quietly in bed, one night, seemed to flash in my minds eye.

Except, that it seemed those words, were taken in another sense.

Rather, than..

“I wanted to leave, I wanted to be somewhere faraway from where my mother and father was. I just, wanted to go.” The girls voice seemed to change, a near maddened edge to the shrill statement.

I was taken aback by her switch in moods, so much so that I jolted, a shiver running down my spine.

“I’m glad.. That I’ve left them behind.” She looked up at me.

And her irises were a shadowy black, a whirling mass of insanity. The light in her eyes was gone, fleeing from them-- As though it were a reflection of the heartbreak within her, time spent away from the ones who’d torn her to pieces, only to live this life of isolation.

“ But, now that you’re finally here, I have someone with me! You, can be the one I love, instead!”

She beamed, her eyes half-lidded as the smile bloomed wide across her face. She seemed to laugh-- So easily, at the opportunity to claim me and replace her parents. The girl shot up from her chair, and grabbed my wrists-- Wrenching them forward and holding them with a painful, snake-like tightness. I bit back a retort, and she giggled, forcing me from my chair and making me stand, a near effortless endeavour for a seemingly weak girl-- And it frightened me, the uncanny and alien-like obsessiveness, as though she’d procured a new pet for her to hover over and keep prisoner.

Was this, who I was?

“Please, let go of me, you don’t need to-” I gasped, as I felt her grip close around me, the joints of my bones screaming in agony as she tugged me away from the chair.

“ Please, miss? I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to feel alone, now that you’re here, I don’t want it ever again.”

The girl continued to pull me with her, pleading with a voice that begged me to oblige, using her charm to try and win me over. “ I don’t want to hurt you, miss, but please, don’t leave me-- I really don’t want to hurt you.”

Her hold on me only tightened, and I gave a strained gasp, as I felt the nerves shoot pain up my forearms.

This surge of barbaric strength she’d possessed, I had no time to waste on wondering where it originated from.

This, wasn’t me.

“ Stay with me, please? I just, want it.. Badly, I want to feel love.. That doesn’t, hurt me..”

She feigned crying, whining. “ I promise, I’ll be good, I’ll be better for you, just please.. Don’t leave here..”

I dug one foot into the ground, summoning what physical strength I had. She instantly stopped, and she tugged on my arms, protesting. “ He-Hey! What are you doing, I’m just-.. Taking you, to-- Stop, stop, don’t, be, difficult!”

She grappled for power, but I could tell that it was draining from her. I let myself go limp, and for moment, she let her guard down, grinning.

I wrestled myself from her as her grip faltered, slapping her arms away as they flailed to catch me.

She gave a small cry, irises flashing with rage and desperation as I broke myself free.

As she lunged for me, I evaded, pushing her momentum past me-- It sent her down onto the floor with a thud, and she groaned, shaking herself out as she got up on all fours. Her muddled state was short-lived, and as I glanced back at her, the girls head seemed to rotate abnormally past her shoulder, almost 180 as she staggered up onto her feet. I bolted for the door. She must have locked it-- She wouldn’t be so dumb as to let me escape through there.

Summoning my strength and focusing it in my core, I slammed a heel down near the knob, and then one near the center of the hard black wood-- It collapsed, crashing against the floor with a loud smash. I leapt over it, descending the stairs. I ran, my feet slamming against the earth, kicking up dirt and grass.

Then, I felt a prickle at my neck.

Following the sensation, I ducked.

A large knife, pierced the ground in front of me, and I skidded to a stop, looking back in disbelief as I saw the girl holding two other blades.

“sh*t, she’s insane.” I muttered, panicking as I tried to find a way to get her off me.

She began her pursuit, leaping down from the stairs and chasing me down.

Even though, she threatened to kill me, or even decapitate me, a part of me prevented me from drawing a weapon against this demented version of myself.

She was still a child.

I ran across the large meadow, reaching the thicket. I heard shrill shouts from behind, and I traversed the open forest as swiftly as I could, avoiding large bushes that would otherwise slow me down, wincing as my ankles slid across a bushel of thorns, and my shoulders bruised against the trees. I was defenseless, in this world, at least, until I’d found Eidolon.

Leaves of grey and tall trunks raced past me, the darkening sky looming overhead. My heart thrashed wildly, my lungs working themselves to the core as I continued my escape. I couldn’t die here-- I wouldn’t.

I saw the forest open up ahead, and I picked up the pace. Beads of sweat ran down my face, and I hurriedly scanned the area for any places I could hide in. Just as I was about to enter the open space-- An invisible barrier slowed my movements, and caused me to stop.

I cursed, slamming a hard kick into the wall-- Only to do nothing, as a ripple spread from the spot I’d come in contact with.

I could hear her drawing closer.

I promise, I won’t bring you harm.

I promised, I wouldn’t hurt you.

The image of the sweet girl, crossed my mind.

This was, me.

A girl who knows no better.

Her smile.

She told me no lies.

Then, she was bruised across the face, clutching her legs in bed as she cried, with little to no consolation from the people she called family. A broken dream that once hoped for her parents to love and make amends with the other, a dashed hope of affection and healing.

She laughed. And it sounded like she hadn’t in a long time.

I promise, I won’t bring you harm.

She emerged from the shadows of the trees.

“ Please.. Don’t make me do anything I’ll regret, miss..”

I was in Eidolons inner world, and that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean that my own powers were hindered.

I held the five star cross necklace.

“For eternal greatness.. Eidolon.” I whispered everything but Eidolon’s name, and the revolver appeared in my hands.

“Then, let me go, Lady Ishida.” I held it up, pointing the muzzle at her.

I didn’t want to pull the trigger.

Even though this girl was different than who I was.

To kill her, would only cause the cracks in my heart to spread.

She’d suffered enough.

We’d suffered enough.

I didn’t want those hands of death, to claim her.

“Drop your weapons. Now.” My voice wavered, as I placed my finger on the trigger, the cold steel feeling foreign to me now.

“You.. Said you wouldn’t hurt me..” Her voice trembled, her smile faltering. “You-.. Promised..”

Her eyes flashed with fear, and all of a sudden, the beaten girl appeared in front of me. I blinked that vision away, along with the tears that threatened to spill from them.

“I did.”

“Please.. Stay..” Her hands reached towards me, shaking, as though she couldn’t accept the sight of my hostility.

“Don’t.. Do this to me..”

“Then, leave me be.” I kept my voice firm, but I could feel my resolve being tossed by the waves, churned by the storm inside, fading from the surface. I moved my other hand to reload the gun, the whirr of the bullets rotating within the cartridge only enunciating the danger posed to her if she defied my request.

“You..” Her hands clenched at her side, around the knives handle.

She launched forward, the knives pointed straight at the arm that held the revolver.

“ YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME AGA- ”

I pulled the trigger, the gunshot ringing in my ears louder than it did ever before.

The moment passed agonizingly, time slamming down on the brakes as the bullet reached it’s target.

I did not look away, though my heart screamed for me to shut my eyes.

A hole appeared through her forehead, the visceral fleshy matter spilling from the wound in streams of red. The flare up in her eyes died out, the soulless black staring right through me, the grief and outrage displayed on her face waited only seconds, before dwindling into emptiness. Her momentum decelerated, arms falling limp, the knives sharpened end impaling the dirt long before her own body hit the ground with a heavy thud. Blood sprayed across the grass, the only other colour I’d seen since entering this world, a perceivable marking on the earth she lay on. A mockery of a grave, poles apart from the ones crafted for the dead.

I stared numbly at her body, the white dress stained by red, her hat resting several inches from her body.

The side of her face that was visible, gazed afar, in the direction of the mountains, her head craned towards the direction of where I stood. Blood dribbled down the side of her forehead, forming a rust coloured puddle that was absorbed by the dry ground.

I reloaded the revolver out of habit, and after realizing I had no more need from it, I tucked it away in the pockets of my robe, that had once been empty. My throat was dry. I felt an indescribable grief, that coursed through my veins. Shock, and maybe, I hadn’t let the results of my actions sink in. I wouldn’t let it.

Eidolon. Where, are you?

My fists clenched.

I still, had yet to find them.

What, was the purpose of killing her? Should I have let her, take me?

No. That wasn’t it. Eidolon, if it was this girl, then why did it want to kill me?

Before my mind could ruminate any longer, a sudden movement behind me forced me to draw my revolver in a flash, and as I faced whatever had appeared--

I dropped my weapon, panting, as a blinding white engulfed me-- When it cleared, a rectangular door opened up before me, tearing through the barrier.

I took one last look at the young girl.

I walked over to her, and picked up the sun hat.

I closed her eyes with two fingers, gently lifting her head up, then set it down. I wiped away the blood with my robe. Taking the straw hat, I placed it over her face, covering it.

As I left her there, without looking back.. I heard a voice echo in my head, upon stepping through the white glow of the door.

“How many more, will you kill?”

Chapter 21: Event: Running From The Start, Further From The Finish - The Mindless Charge

Chapter Text

*Foot tapping on ground*

Chapter 22: Event: Bones Of A Slain Dragon, Rancor Within His Blood

Chapter Text

*Blinks in confusion*

Chapter 23: Event: In The Garden Of Savages, Lies, Filth - The Blossoming

Chapter Text

*Wind blows*