#bornhollow

"Oh Shuhei, I wasn't expecting you to come to the first."

IT WAS LIKE AVIRA to drop formalities when she was around him. Just because they had known each other. She gives a tiny smile to him, "If I knew you were coming, I would've been more prepared." A chuckle teasing the man.

He should have asked, should have inquired. Raised a voice past what he could fairly muster, demand a 'why?'! An explanation to whatever plan that old ---- comrade? - of his could have had, and yet when only finding enough thought and mind in him to realise that despite what he had done to him, he was alive and breathing and moving - there had been nothing of that sort. Impossible. Utterly impossible. These ruminations that would keep his mind from racing endlessly around an answer he would never find and never receive. Knowing as much that this torturous back and forth they would soon find themselves in was nothing if not a game to be played on the sidelines leading to a bigger goal. But as it was - he would do whatever in his possible might to undermine this megalomaniac's pursuit for---

Till he hears and feels them come back. Discardable movements of reishi in the walls and the halls, whatever the Quincy wanted with him would bring no satisfaction in his premeditated choice for muteness to be narrowed down towards the gruff replies of laboured breath. After all, that was the reason why his voice had refused to chime out before, why his tongue had rejected any exclamations to be formed, thankful though he should be in disparaging shattered expectations when all that he had been able to comprehend in this near-death state of his, was the disregard with which Yhwach spoke of the whole circumstance. A distant memory, but something of a softened cadence still chiming somewhere in the back of his mind.

" We will bring him to speak about it all later. Leave him to rest for now. "

As if it were merely nothing but a pastime activity to fill out his dull little life with. If he had been the slightest further along in regaining his strength, surely enough, an outburst of different proportions would have underlined his boiling and burning displeasure, raging and raving somewhere in the pits of his stomach, but it was not good enough. Ryūjin Jakka was gone - and all hope forlorn to ever get him back from a madman dangling the very safety of those dear, cherished, adored in front of him like a priced possesion the moment he would surely step back into his field of vision. He had taken so much from him. Why go to that length? Issue a means to keep him alive. Why do such a thing beyond the knowledge that those Yamamoto wanted to be safe, he never would have any power again to attempt such a ludicrous thought with? At least, that is all that his mind came up with for hours and hours slowly spiralling back into reality. It was an interesting spectacle. To follow the pulsing reels of power, like little rivulets of gleaming water travelling along the otherwise unassuming bars of this prison cell he had been thrown into.

He had seen that before. In a better time. In a kinder past. The Quincy ways of using and utilizing reishi to its capacity in ferocious purity. It was beautiful - really---

" Are you willing to speak to us now? "

What a nonsensical question. And if he would have had it in him, a burst of huffed-out laughter would have left his lips. There was nothing to be done past defiance, glaring up from where he sat at the far end of the cell, his minutes till Yhwach had arrived with his - entourage [ he remembers the boy's name, Jugram, was it not? ] - spent looking at the bindings slung around his form in means and creations to simultaneously keep him contained and his brittle form from falling apart. Fine leashed, knitted and woven together into a sort of net, imbued and enriched with a reiatsu he did not know and could not make out. But if he had a guess: it was from the cursed King's aide. What a beguiling contraption, the twelfth division's Captain may find interest in it.

Past all these ideas he had occupied himself with , there was no reply. Not even a huff leaving dry lips was it enough to elicit a chuckle from Yhwach himself, moving and shifting, lowering past his graces to crouch down in front of his captive to keep him just on eye level as much as it had ever been possible. Their stature had been contemptuously different, ever since they'd known each other - but it had never mattered. Never come to light. Never been of interest. Past how it would be now.

" Fine then. " In a sense, at times, he hated how this man could speak. How every single syllable brought forth was nothing if not ridiculing a situation of dire need, burning it down into nothing but a silly little cumbersome realisation that needed no explanation past whatever the Captain Commander may have wanted to offer in reply. Nothing it was. And nothing would remain. " It doesn't quite matter if you talk or not. I am quite sure that you know where you ended up and what will happen now. " Does he truly know? Out of the corner of his eye Genryūsai would catch the incredulous expression the youth wore. All but a motion enough that could make him doubt that he was anywhere in or even only near the Wandenreich, anywhere even only close to that precious place where all those residents who still held his heart and who would keep it for him intact and unmarred would remain. But there was, as he could feel that ache rippling through him, masked soon enough with that slightest hiss to cover it as if pains could shoot from gaping wounds, that one person whose piece would remain missing to fill him whole.

He had lost Akime. He had lost Sasameki too.

If only - if only he had been there. If only he had not sent her there! If only he had known - if only he had killed him so many years ago.

It's a snap when his gaze of angry fire would find the Quincy's own, having long since subsided to desire to say something, anything, would he feel his eye bear upon him in trying to pull out bit by bit the pieces of information he was yet hiding. If the Shinigami had been any stronger than he was right now, perhaps a chiding remark of using that wretched and cursed power of his own to realise and figure out the truths still hidden away - but in a sense, mayhap Yamamoto was glad to find that he held no interest in it per se. Questions. Demands. Wishes. - to know the why, the reasons behind the King's refusal to use the Almighty, would die in the back of his throat the instance he watched Yhwach's companion stir.

Having stood there as unmoving as a marble statue, leant against the wall right next to his enclosure, for they had moved the Captain to the one farthest away, the one the most solitary, where none could find him, even if they were to search. He had just stood there, no motions past in reaction to his Master's words, there had been nothing to imply that Jugram's alertness could be disturbed, could be broken, redirected to something else that was not that little, near intimately private interaction between two enemies that so starkly, so absurdly, seemed like they had been so close. Old friends turned to foes, turned into nemesis, enemies at each other's throats. Perhaps Yhwach's sudden benevolence to save his old comrade from injuries that would have been an undoing to anybody else, was it not a testament of that?

No--- no.

A broken and shattered remaining pride as it was that sudden shift of the atmosphere, still uncommented by the Ruler of these Lands, that finally, finally offered a realisation past what he had been able to comprehend. To pick up. How could it have been that only now that very small, fragile little presence had become known to him? How could he have ignored it so easily before? Drowned out beneath powers of immeasurable worth, near a bulwark to even restrict breathing, to find that bit of a soul that had followed him [ why had he followed him? how had he followed him? ], now caught like a mouse in a trap. Overhelmed. Confused. Amongst this onslaught of spiritual pressure, even only with his own in that unkempt and uncontained state of ghastly injuries, it would be too much, but with the two rulers so near? He was far too young for this, panic rising in the boy's rapidly beating heart, like a little rabbit caught in a predator's grasp, a lion about to play with nought but a rodent and he could swear - swear like it was.

He could hear nought but a fine whine of pure terror rising from Kagerō's throat. Soft and deliberately low, trying to keep himself hidden in that shadow he had been trapped into, traversing through it near naturally like his father had attained as a power of mirth and play, the boy was far too young. Perhaps caught in an attempt to find a safe place, misplaced the fact that these murmurming and whispering shadows were nothing like his dear Sire's, how could he have known?

And what was there to even do?

He still could feel Yhwach's stare. As if testing to find whatever question he could ask him in an attempt to figure out a reaction past that obvious disregard for the danger he had found himself in. There was, undoubtedly, a myriad of things that there could be exchanged in voices ranging from subtle hums and droning frenzy to agitated screams and feverish accusations. But it all turned to nothing, to the stone of a mien unwavering in the eyes of something whose pure raised hand could kill him if he willed it - but he would not [ don't they both know? ].

( ' --- what… what should I do… I'm scared… I'm scared. ' )

It was like an insufferable fever dream. There was no voice. Yet a voice was meandering through the stone wall, permeating the unmoving air of dampened hall and he wonders, he could only wonder: if Yhwach was not aware? If he was willfully ignoring the man standing at near predatory attention behind him, within that twitch - that subtle twitch - of his hand underlining the knowledge that: yes, if he wanted to, he could reach into the masonry work to tear out the boy like an eagle would pinpoint take a mouse out of the air with precision and deadly grace. It was a nightmare come true, and a nightmare he hoped it would be. For him, and his grandson.

In those torturing, maddening seconds that have him wince and writhe as if to underline the fact that he wanted to just be a bit more comfortable in that strain of wounds inflicted on him. He had been cut in half, was that not right? Lost his remaining arm too? Thoughts of nothing and everything when only grounding himself out that this could not be Kagerō. This could not be true. There was no possible explanation that for all that way out and through miles and miles of powers that should guard secrecy like this. This could not be real.

Please don't let it be real.

( ' … I don't know what to do. … Jiichan--- please… help me. ' )

This can not be real.

He knows Kagerō does not answer him, hears that voice as a maniacal fine little sing-song somewhere in the back of his mind, the very pretence of what could be in a near shell-shocked state to keep up a facade breaking and cracking at a moment's notice with each breath he takes in laboured attempts. Heavier and heavier. As if he would drown in whatever frenzy was there to envelop him whole---

--- he should be dead and this whole little dreadful subterfuge of delusions was nothing more than an attempt to drive him mad. He knew what the Quincy were capable of, this could be nothing else. With the sensations and voices and drawn-out pleas, it could be nought else but an attempt to have him kneel in front of a fiendish King. So he had brought himself to close his eyes in an attempt to shut out all the sensations that could sway him to bring forth any words of commentary nature to be seen as a weakness in this demented process. It could be nought else but deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, where nothing should ever reach his heart. His dear little grandson could not be here, he was safe. He was safe back in Soul Society---

But the thought only lasted within that sigh he exhaled. His eye cracks open for but a margin and he realised it. The fact that Yhwach had lost his interest in trying to figure out how to get him to speak, had turned, still crouched down, to just follow his Grandmaster's gaze transfixed on a point in the wall. No words were spoken, no question dropped, the sheer acceptance that there was a trail of thought to be followed after with all but curious gaze. From the young man's back over the slant and tilt of his head, down and down, snaking in an invisible, maze-like path over the cracks of stones, towards the unmistakable place where Yamamoto, as well, could see him. Kagerō. Sitting there like a scared, cornered little soul, watching and waiting, having caught his beloved Grandfather's worry.

( '… he sees me. What should I do Jiichan, please, help me… what should I do? ' )

It was an unbearable amount of torture. And finally, he moves. How about - they play a game? He had thought as much, even knowing how impossible, improbable, a chance for success even was, watching this scene like a fawn would be caught before two wolves, ready to tear it out of its hideout, to string it up, pull it open without any remorse. Sheer regard for power discrepancy, within that fact, that this whole scene moved like it would take a thousand years, had he already brought an injured hand to his lips. It was a gesture of hide and seek - play this game to stay as silent as only possible, to be as imperceptible as only you would be capable and be still.

Be so still.

Do not move.

It will be alright.

It will be fine.

This very gesture would remain hidden from the two men that had captured a foe of insurmountable power and will, reduced to nought but an attempt in bringing peace to a scared, little child. Hope to brew that, by some strange stroke of luck, this could be ended favourably. Hope to rise in his mind that if it all came down to it, whatever he could offer for the Quincy Emperor would be good enough to have the boy be spared and leave him unharmed, wishful thinking in that essentially hysterical haze that his mind had thrown itself into. Everything. Anything possible to have his sweet little boy come out as unharmed as it was only a dire need to remain.

" It is just a mouse, Jugram. Ignore it. "

It was as if a dam had broken over both their heads. His hand was quick enough to find a place back at his side, barely adjusted as if to give the intention and keep up the facade that the noise of fabric brushing against each other had just been him attempting to be that bit more comfortable. That bit more at ease in front of a monster who had shown benevolence unexpected to come down upon them. He wanted to ask why. Yet he dares it not. Dares not to break whatever quip had driven Yhwach to release his child from the heavy tenor of a terror befalling them both, for he had not been able to hide it. Had not been able to keep it all contained in that slight moment his gaze had found Kagerō's to play with him a game so well known and so well loved, his eyes had been filled with the same sheer dread of hopelessness as the youth's very own.

He desired just with all he had, that this would lead to nought at all.

( ' A mouse…. yes. I am a mouse. Nothing… but a mouse. ' )

And within the steep ridiculousness of this back and forth that had drawn and dragged itself out over nothing but a mere ten heartbeats rushing in his ears, Jugram relented. Moved back to his place as if he had never been caught by the urge to break open the wall, tear out the child, and make an example of what could only be called foolish disobedience before those that had conquered it all. No, he was calm, and collected. Closing his eyes while leaning back against the wall next to them like nothing, nothing in that maddening moment of shattering realisations had ever happened - the very realisation that, if nothing would be done.

All he would want would be in the mad King's hands. " So. " It snaps Yamamoto back, makes him blink, that ease in which his old - friend - knew how to get a reaction where just so often Genryūsai had refused in mild jest to give it to him all those years ago--- and he felt Kagerō gone when only that memory came rushing back to him. Whatever it was Yhwach wanted to say now---

' Is it dangerous? '

' It-- doesn't - really seem like it? '

─────

It was a surprise, amongst everything that had been left behind in this grandeur of a now empty empire that had grown over months, years, decades, nearly centuries worth, countless structures stretching themselves far and wide. The sheer immensity of this whole creation, worth shattering the mind unable to fathom that it had been conceived and devised, planned and ultimately created by minds of so very few. But even with all that aside, even with permitting oneself to get lost in all those possibilities not expected, even less predicted, there were those around and struck with heavy emotional tremor, that could never, and should have never, had the means and opportunities to get to know all that he had hidden away. 

And what a serene, hauntingly disturbing masterpiece this all was. 

There were those few choice souls that survived their Creator's preparations for war and unleashed madness for blind opportunism in destroying all in his wake that would lead him not to his desired goal. Those very special someones had been left alone and to rest, to scamper and hide for the time being, as breaking open this marble fortress, find entry and pathways alike, was the 'intruders' mission for hours and hours that had just passed. And many, so many more that would still come. 

Easy it was at first. A maze made by a mad King, following corridors over and over as if he had desired to lead any 'guest' of his endlessly spinning magnum opus through the same halls, having them feel like walls close in around them, and the heavier the suffocating delirium of this unexpected pull, the swifter and quieter those rats could be disposed of. Like a mouse in a labyrinth, followed by a cat, a prey and a predator, chasing each other around in infinite circles till bringing up their mutual ruin. So it had felt, till throne-room had been discovered, with the marble throne so high above and out of everybody's reach, for the Maker of this rotten Kingdom to look down upon his servants: to judge, to be admired - all those emotions drowned out towards simple desires. 

There were not only a few squad members whose glassy eyes and faraway gazes had shimmering notions hidden in the depths of lidded want. To either see him stand above amongst the heavens or even, even just, if powers would lead and harbour, mayhap they could have stood there as well---?

─────

' Hey! What are you doing there?! Back to work! '

' Stop staring up at this thing! '

─────

Stops and stops. As if broken apart by those who had garnered their strength again inside this cacophony of sounds and smells and palpable emotions running rampant at that moment those that had lingered in something similar to awe-struck god-given reverence where the God itself was jailed, should not ever be in their reach anymore if not for those that deemed it necessary [ or possible? ] for him to walk amongst those that are mortal again. 

What a deliberate, mind-numbing thought process. And it was that very one, that one could cling to in winding their weary forms, broken in body, broken in mind, through this sheer unending craft appearing like an immaculate white sea. If one were to truly think about it, one could suppose that this whole picture of sharpness and grace intermingled with this or that odd little phantom of a peculiar little display [ was it made by him? was it made for them? ] of masonry would be nought else but fitting for a man that had planned and pursued something as ludicrously lavish in all its broken brilliance as this whole Kingdom being a base to his desires of the end of the world. 

Or so--- it seemed?

" What--- " 

Soft and light just as much as her voice would barely break through the ongoing chatter about a room they had yet only discovered barely half a bell ago, and what a stark contrast of colours and vibrant feelings had it not been? From the very place they stood in, could see the radiance of a multitude of facetted greens illuminating the otherwise rather dark angle of Sousuke Aizen's private quarters. It is just what had been found out maybe an hour ago, when capturing one of those discardable little beings still rummaging through carved architecture and the murmured words of fear and terror had attempted to explain where their former Lord had hidden all of his sacred privacy with enough of a promise to behold to let the jittering and trembling mass flee again. 

Whatever the Hollows would do in these hours and days, the Shinigami, for now at the very least, would not care about it even for a single heartbeat. So thus? To watch lower officers of one of the Squads having set to clean out this place of tormented, fractured entities, stagger back and away from the sheer intensity of a brilliant glow, to put distance between what they could not understand - could never even imagine to grasp - and the output of pure and radiant power that suddenly [ or so it at least seemed? ] had unfurled itself to search and search while formerly it had been so dormant --- " What is happening? " She had not been alone in her pursuit of a truth that the man that had been part of her carefully crafted world had all hidden away from her so meticulously and cruelly, but even though it was not the case---

---she suddenly felt like the only person in this whole world who could even begin to understand. 

" Sasameki---? " With how faraway her husband's voice just sounded. With how she had wound herself through the onlookers, those that are damned in their attempt to stop her, to make her shy away from the sheer outbursts of pure unadulterated rage, settling into the beauty of this whole creation. How could any of this be? How was any of this real? It was undeniable! - the little gift bestowed to him she had been so sure, so certain that he might have had it destroyed over the years in the past that he was gone - because! Sasameki had searched for it in his quarters, nothing to be found, not even a trace - and yet here? 

Here of all places, this shimmering ocean of lush green and vibrant hues of lighter leafy overgrows, the darker shades of verdant, making the room even bigger than it probably already had been. It was all Sousuke's powers to behold. All these depths and riches created by small little pieces of reiatsu in blinding perception, near hot to a seeking touch, while the sheer simplicity of his reishi, on the other hand, was cooling and light, similar to something that conjures the picture and light whispers of a rainstorm's worth. How can this all just be? This sheer magnitude of this sweet creation, but had he not mentioned it before? When all but drawing back over memories and how mind-numbing was not the wish to recall his words how he had spoken them to her? 

 " I will probably see if I can nourish it myself, that would be interesting, no? " 

It broke in that moment with a single tear trailing along fair cheek. What had she answered? What had she found as a reply to his mild jest in their gentle back and forth that was so filled with admiration and adoration for each other that knew no bounds? What had she said? " Dear, please--- " A call that does not reach her, when the call she wanted to hear so much more than anything else was from his voice. Was any explanation he had refused to give her, that child she once knew, grown into a man, a monster of such grotesque proportions, larger than life and even if he had offered solace and aid by a margin only, he was too far gone. Too far beyond. 

Silence in a world that was screaming with sounds. 

Tenderness in a presence that latched to burn her whole. 

Yet it did not. When she had dropped to her knees in front of this forest. This Macrocosmos nurtured out of a single instance, a single little mushroom given to him as a gift, as a treasure perceived for the worth it had. And he had kept it. Raised it. Brought it to new heights even Sasameki might not have reached, if not for his hand to guide her anew. And guide he did, was it not true?

Because in these moments? These very short seconds that boiled down to nothing but her and his secret left behind, the way these little roots would stretch for her hand so kindly, so carefully extended towards life and vigour itself. She could hear those exclamations, for her to be cautious and alert, his powers left behind and stretched beyond the etchings of the stone, like a fine spidery web, would lash out and push back any not allowed, not desired to behold a part of his crafted soul. No, but for her [ and had Shunsui not hushed them down to nought with a mere wave of his hand? ], they were reaching. 

Climbing. Trying to gather at a place to know they have been accepted. For her, all that power, shining oh-so-bright, muted in its subtle calm, like a velvety softness of gentle touch --- it broke just the moment she realised that. That there was something. Something that is so truly known to her. Something only she was able to perceive. Something only she had ever had the pleasure, the chance, to truly recognise. What a mind-breaking thing he had left her behind---

"Mmm Captain, what exactly happened during your time away?"

SHE WASN'T GOING TO FORCE HIM to speak if he didn't want to but he was acting rather weird since he had come back from his mission. She heard Kaguya-chan asking about it earlier, but she didn't have any information and it wasn't like she was going to tell the girl something that she didn't know.

❝ Perhaps it is my fault that Rukia has insecurities. I do admit that I blame myself for her disposition. As her brother, it was my job to support and be there for her as her family and I did none of that. I let my grief paralyze me and my ability to relate to her.

I do not believe I deserve her adoration. In fact, if she hated me, I wouldn't blame her. I was callous to her and while we have made up, I do believe that I must truly do more to earn her adoration as a brother.

SONG MEME || ACCEPTING!

Her playlist is almost 12 hours long so just dedicates this to her.

FOR EVERY 🎤 SENT, I WILL LIST A SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH MY MUSE. // Accepting!

FOR EVERY 🎤 SENT, I WILL LIST A SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH MY MUSE. // Accepting!