( INSTINCT. ;

      “WHAT THE HELL-!?”

          A voice to shake the heavens, that what for certain. Whatever she’d sensed as off about Kurosaki hadn’t prepared her for this. To add insult to injury, he’s taunting her, more or less. About how little she knows? How little she realized? One, the other, both? It doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the abomination standing before her, smug as can be. Kurosaki’s inner Hollow, she knows, is something he actively uses. That he actively fights with. That it was anything but a portion of him had never occurred to her.            It seemed that the Hollow itself was taking some considerable amusement in the fact.           “What– how–?” Mind running a mile a minute, she tries to consider the possibilities. She doesn’t know as much as Ginjo does, not even as much as Tsukishima does, never mind someone more qualified to deal with this. Is it Kurosaki becoming the Hollow or the Hollow overtaking Kurosaki? She doesn’t know, and she only cares because it’s parading around, wearing Kurosaki’s face and acting like she’s an idiot for not knowing that he… what?            That he was letting his Hollow out for a walk or something?           Scrubbing a hand haphazardly back through her hair, her wide-eyed stare remains firmly locked on him, unsure what, if anything she should say or do about the situation at hand. Neither Kurosaki nor what little she’d learned from Urahara had prepared her for anything like this. Does it really matter if she can ‘deal’ with it or not though? She doesn’t think so. As of the moment the Hollow came into view, there’s been a more pressing issue at hand, one that Riruka realizes she has to handle because she’s not sure who else there is that can.            “Where the hell is Kurosaki, you alabaster bastard?” Her voice sounds braver than she feels, shoulders squared but tense as she looks up at him. 

          “What did you do–!?”

  As quickly as the womans’ voice had risen, the hollows’ lips curled further. Wearing a grin that fit across pale features, pulling the skin back as far as it would allow; smug as can be from ear to ear. Amusement was had in the mistaken identity, but now that the answers sat out in the open the entertainment was drawn from the sheer shock of it all. From the rising tone to the words chosen, and further still to the baffled stutter that seemed to follow.

  Where there should be a response -- perhaps answering the questions she seemed to want so desperately -- there came laughter. A subtle trembling of the shoulders, at first. Bubbling up as a giggle that slowly boiled into a shrill fit of laughter -- fortunately short lived.

    “What did I do?”

  Another laugh; like a short, thunderous bark.

    “Some bold questions you could no doubt answer if ya weren’t pussfyfootin’ around on the sidelines. But since you’re so worried -- he ain’t dead, if that’s what yer askin’.” There’s a pause, eyes trailing to look off behind himself to the best of his ability, smirk still resting comfortably along his lips. “... not yet.”

  Assuming the bastard was here at all, that is. But, it wasn’t too far off from being the truth considering the fools track record of nearly getting himself killed. Made the spirit wonder, though. Should his unfortunate king be found among the chaos... would his death truly matter here?

  Or would it play out differently? Another case of deja vu, honestly.

    “ -- but why bother with some pigheaded idiot?"

  A sudden thud rings against his ears as the blade wielded comes to meet the ground, tip lodged into the pavement. It acts as a means of balance, one hand still firmly gripping its’ handle while the other rests upon the hollows’ hip. There’s a feigned gentleness that twists itself into his smile as he makes a point to lean forward. Voice laced with a means of mimicry to further capture a tone she’d be better acquainted with.

      “I am absolutely not coming in there!” It’s an adamant declaration that comes immediately after the suggestion, a hand pressed to her chest in affront. “Honestly, Kurosaki, do you think I’m going to chance this body in some dumb game of ugly-as-hell-cat and mouse? No way!”            The fact that there’s a response at all allays some of her worries, though that he’d ask her to come in there puzzles her. Even if Kurosaki isn’t good about asking for help, she’s pretty sure that’s not it. Is he trying to help someone else on top of keeping himself out of trouble? Or is she overthinking it and it’s simply him attempting to, in his own absurd way, tease her a bit? Whichever one it is, it makes her rock at the edges of the barrier, fingers twisting together behind her back.            “B-besides, who’s concerned?” She adds, brain catching up to the conversation properly a moment later. The heat rises in her cheeks at even the implication, and she lets out a huff (as if he can hear it) as her arms come out from behind her back to cross across her chest. Posturing for her own sake, rather than because someone is there to bear witness– but she can’t let herself be caught off-guard. 

          “You should at least appreciate that I thought to make sure you weren’t out here dying because you’re too pigheaded to stay out of trouble!” Her fingers tap against her upper arm, and the scuff of her boot against the railing sends a pebble tumbling over the edge of her perch. “Why don’t you just come and talk to me properly if you can hear me, huh? No manners whatsoever!”

   Laughter in the form of a short, airy breath left the zanpakutou at the immediate denial of entering. Not as though he was expecting much else, they had a right mind not to go rushing in like the certain fool they went searching for. As if on cue, there’s the very name again! Flung towards himself and meant to identify him as such, and to some degree... it wasn’t wrong.

  But, of course, it wasn’t right, either.

    “Appreciate? Ha, I’m almost insulted!” Infamous laughter follows the remark, setting himself in motion to close the distance between himself and the holder of the voice. For a brief moment he could relish in whatever confusion is caused. From the responses expected to the crude manner of which the hollow wished to reply. A reputation worked on for years and put in place so often broken by a distorted reflection. 

    “--and it ain’t gettin’ any better the more you go runnin’ that mouth o’ yours. How about instead of continuing to spew your bullshit, ya make sure you’ve got the right number.”

  A final step and a partial slide of his foot, positioning self comfortably at the very edges of the restrictions that kept him within this hellscape of a ward. “ ‘Cause you keep callin’ for Kurosaki -- for Ichigo.” She’d come into view a moment ago, but sat clear enough for the hollow to gain a better view. It made sense why the voice held a familiarity, now.

@albinosin​

      Ignoring the idiocy going on in Golden Ward had been the plan. She wasn’t there, neither was the shop, and the list of people around that she gave a quarter of a damn about was countable on one hand. It was when that thought struck that she realized that, as a point of fact, one of those people resided in that district. Where normally, she might have considered weighing the options of letting someone fend for themselves (it’s what she’d insist on if it were her, after all), in this singular, specific case, that wasn’t an option.           It wouldn’t do to just show up in there without knowing if he was there or not. After all, she had no desire to find herself in that disaster if she could help it. Especially since there wasn’t much she could do in order to get points at the moment. Besides, she didn’t want to make it seem as if she was there for his sake either. No matter how things had been so far, it wasn’t as if she wanted to make herself that easy a target.            Thankfully, there were still ways to figure the situation out that didn’t involve actually setting foot in the Ward. Not for the first time, she thanked Kurosaki’s absurdly particular reiatsu signature, following the curve of the perimeter carefully as she sought it out. Pausing in a place where she could swear she felt it, she pressed her heels into the edge of a railing and leaned forward, not wanting to waste any of her Bringer Light if she didn’t have to. 

          “Oi, Kurosaki! You’re not getting your ass kicked or anything in there, are you?”

  Pop! A sound that played out loudly against the ears of those involved, at different volumes and a varying frequency. Even tone, if one wished to call it that, as balloons weren’t the only target available. With every game there came with it a variety of ways to play, and a caged beast would eagerly take the more rash option. Yet, it was not anger or spite that drove him to participate in such a manner, but pure delight in the visual carnage he could create.

  One might dare to call it fitting under the circumstances of how it all came to be, playing right into the madness that the very orchestrator of the event no doubt had in mind. Brought into a world that gradually morphs from seemingly docile to this.

  It was almost like deja vu; like he’s experienced it all before.

  The attempt to try and recall it gave nothing more than a faint ringing in his ears, or was that the attempt to drown out memory for something familiar? A question that brought with it more questioning, as a spoken name was quick to catch interest.

  Pulled free from its temporarily gruesome place of rest, a weighted blade found its home upon the hollows’ shoulder. Attention had been reeled in and pulled away from the event at hand, cast out into the depths of the city that current restrictions kept him from. Curiosity would be the bait that drew him in, as well as that familiar presence that held a voice once heard, though not through ears of his own.

    “Y’know, if you’re so curious, why not dive in and see for yourself! Put those concerns to rest.”