Down in the depths of the pit in which heâd been thrown and chained, Kokuto felt a presence far above him and slowly, he lifted his head, long white hair brushing his cheeks, chains shifting and clinking against each other. He hummed quietly, curious, for it seemed that a new arrival had just been cast into Hell and what was more, was that he was strong.
Not as strong as Ichigo, but plenty strong.
Strong⌠and angry, wrathful with a sharp wit and a temper that was quick to draw blood. Interesting.
With a roll of his shoulders, the chains shifting and chiming almost like bells, the sinner got ready to rise from his confinement, chains or no chains.
Above, Tokinada Tsunayashiro choked on black sand, hacking and coughing, and he was livid, wild eyed and barred teeth. He had clearly lost his cool and noble bearing, although most would after being sent to Hell. Seemed his past actions had finally caught up with him and it was quite a list.
His plans, all his power, Hikone, it had all been for not. Tokinada had thought he was untouchable, a promised ruler of the realms, but death was not bias. It killed without discrimination and Hell claimed souls without judge or jury.
He was still conscious, still existed, but he was trapped, a manacle around his noble throat and two around his wrists, chains leading from them. Raging, he drew his zanpakuto and attempted to break his shackles, adding his reiatsu to his cause, but of course the chains did not come undone. They didnât even bend or chip and Tokinada snarled, panting.
Damn it! Damn it to Hell!
Tokinada paused to catch his breath, and even that angered him; that he could be winded so easily. It disgusted him and this realm, this place, the hatred and agony was thick here, like oil on his skin; just ready for a match to set them all alight.
Then he heard the footsteps upon the sand and sharply looked up, highly annoyed at having been caught looking so pathetic, quite willing to kill the spy. He readied his sword, grip tight upon the hilt.
Kokuto crossed the sand with calm, precise steps, his black blade resting against his shoulder, and he came to stand in front of Tokinada, the sinner raising an eyebrow at the panting, raving man before him. Tall, square shoulders, soft blond hair that was currently a mess, and those eyes⌠golden, hard and as hot as a brand. They burned with hatred, with disgust, with the deepest contempt, and Kokuto smiled, smoothly.
The sinner swung his dark hooked sword easily from his shoulder, pointing it towards the other almost casually, and Tokinadaâs eyes caught fire! How dare that disgusting nobody challenge him! He would kill him and spread his remains across this blasted desert!
The newly condemned had no words, he simply snarled, his hatred overtaking him and Tokinada rushed forward in a burst of black sand towards Kokuto, his zanpakuto at the ready. He wanted to see the sinnerâs blood and Kokuto saw him coming and⌠laughed, his smile sharp.
Yes, yes, that beautiful, prefect anger, that crisp hatred. They needed that to survive and this one had it in spades. Wonderful.
So they danced across the black sinner sand, blades clashing, metal on metal and sending sparks flying when they touched. Kokuto was faster and more powerful, but he was not going in for the kill; he wanted to see what Tokinada could do, push him to his limit and past it. So he twisted out of the way, blocking and evading with only a bit of effort, almost lazily, and it was clear that he was aggravating Tokinada even more.
Good, keep coming! Harder, faster! Let your hatred consume you!
To be so powerful, so on top of the world, only to have it all stripped away and shackledâŚ. The loss was maddening, and thus the shinigami continued to pursue Kokuto, wanting to ease himself a little with the sadistic pleasure of pinning the sinner and torturing him to death.
His anger pushed him hard, but he was still winded from before, still so new to Hell and weaker because of it. He would be better refreshed, if you could be such a thing in this place, and it wasnât long before Kokuto decided to end their fight, violet eye narrowed slightly.
The sinner twisted his arm and swept out one of his chains, both a shackle and a weapon, and the unseen chain swept under one of Tokinadaâs legs and wrapped around his ankle, only seen once it cut into the otherâs leg. Tokinada flinched, attempted to step back, eyes widening in surprise, and then Kokuto yanked sharply on the chain and Tokinadaâs foot came out from under him, tossing him onto his back. He attempted to get up, shunpo away, but he was to stunned and to tired, he wasnât fast enough.
The black blade and Kokuto were instantly above him and⌠the devilish smile on the sinnerâs face was anything but sane and then the sword came down swiftly and pierced Tokinada harshly through the center of his chest, pinned the shinigami to the sand. He screamed, his throat raw, the pain horrid and tearing, but still Tokinada swore and fought and spat, hair in his face and trying to fight his way up to the sinner to tear him asunder.
He was like an angry cat; an elegant, enraged, hissing fluff ball.
Kokuto snickered and stepped on the otherâs throat above his shackle, pressed down, hard and slow, to stop that screaming, silence the newcomer. Tokinada choked, forced into silence. He could barely breathe and he couldnâtâŚget Kokuto off of him!
âShhh,â the sinner hissed, his smile cruel and full, âThatâs enough. You put up quite a fight, so youâve won a reprieve.â
Reprieve?! For him?! From this bastard? Sure, Kokuto was strong, he had bested Tokinada, leaving the other panting and pained and run through in the sand but that didnât mean the shinigami had to like it. Tokinada grit his teeth.
âPeasant!â he spat angrily, choked out, âHow dare you⌠speak to me like that! I will gut⌠you and spread yourâŚ. entrails⌠across the sand⌠for you insolence! I-â
Kokuto hummed and a slight twist of his blade silenced those insults from the other manâs lips, Tokinada screaming in pain, flushed with a sheen of sweat across his skin, and god that hurt!
âNow, now, donât get fussy,â the sinner almost cooed, âI missed your vitals on purpose, but thatâs easy to remedy. Might break a rib or two as well, hm?â
His tone was so calm and casual but so damn sadistic, it made Tokinada feel a flash of fear. He had no doubt that this man would have no qualms about killing him. He might have even enjoyed it. It was the type of man Kokuto was.
The sword had entered to the left side of the shinigamiâs breast bone, between his fifth and sixth rib. It had barely missed his organs but if Kokuto wanted to, he could twist his blade enough to not only spread and crack two of Tokinadaâs ribs, but also pop a lung and do other fatal damage.
Tokinada was proud, and angry and bitter, but he wasnât a fool and he didnât want to die. So it was with deep loathing that he quieted, stopped fighting.
ââŚWhoâŚare you?âŚWhat do you⌠want?â Tokinada groaned, laying on the ground and trying not to breath to deeply, less the blade nick his lung as it expanded for air.
A heartbeat, two, and Kokuto smiled; jagged and dripping with hate and insanity.
âEasy,â he purred, âI need your hatred.â
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