The Red Light, Green Light

And then: green. Suddenly, like spring attempting to feebly, dimly bloom in an otherwise desaturated world, the faintest shade of green made itself known in the most unsubtle way possible. The crass sound of the wooden chair sliding across the café’s hardwood floor pierced the otherwise peaceful silence as a man who had slipped in so quickly and quietly that the denizens had hardly known he was there to begin with slumped down into the seat, his elbows dropping to the surface of the table as his eyes locking immediately, unbreakably with the cobalt of Rania’s own.

In a fraction of a second that felt more like an eternity, Ezekiel studied the woman before he spoke. Her eyes were dark. She looked tired. It was funny. They matched his own. Blood-shot, sallow, but his were focused. His vision was unlike it was before. His mind was honed to a dangerous razor without the influence of his Zan spirit’s interference, without the pain and the headaches. (Why did he want her back again?) Second, her clothing. Disheveled. Wrinkled. Bland. Before her attire had been so regal, so precise. Thirdly, her demeanor. Her posture. This was a woman who looked as though she had given up. This was a woman who seemed to embrace the mundane, the common, the… mortal.

He stared into the woman’s eyes. Her expression went unnoticed. There was something wrong with her eyes. There was a dullness. Something was just… not right.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing?”

His tone was incredibly low, incredibly serious. He wasn’t sure what her game was. Perhaps she was just trying to keep a low profile? Perhaps she was trying to turn over a new leaf? Did that matter? Did it matter to him? A little part of him thought that perhaps, it might have, at one point. But now, what he saw frightened him, and not in the way that Rania had frightened him before. His pulse pounded through the fake meat-suit he was wearing. It frightened him because she did not look like the kind of person who could help him. She did not act (and Ezekiel had been watching for a small amount of time), like a person who had it in her to help him.

It was… frightening. And angering. And sad.

“No. Don’t answer that question.” He finally said, speaking low and quickly. His eyes shot sideways, for the first time, as he leaned in closer and locked his gaze with her again. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but you’re not making yourself very scarce. Despite the fact that you’ve exhibited none of your normal ‘behavior,’ and that you’re wrapped up nice and snug in that little suit of yours, you were very much so easier to track down this time than you were before. Just a heads up, from someone on the outside looking in. For someone who was supposed to be ‘scarce,’ you’re doing a fuckin’ piss poor job.” He took a breath. The ramble had seemed to string together forever. He glanced around again. It had remained quiet enough to not attract any attention, but maybe he was being too overbearing.

He leaned back and sighed, rubbing his hands across his shaven jaw. He would never get used to that. He tried to look a bit less conspicuous as he spoke. His tone was less harsh. More conversational now. The content didn’t matter. People didn’t try to overhear normal looking conversations. “Not like it matters anyways.” He huffed. “In the end, you spoiling the big secret wouldn’t have mattered. I’m not exactly on the best terms with the men upstairs anymore.”

He wrinkled his brow a bit. Studied the woman. Was this even the same person? For a moment, Ezekiel entertained the thought that perhaps he had made a mistake. But in reality, there was no denying that the woman’s face, her body, were her own. She was the same. But at the same time, she was different. Undeniably different. He studied her. “Coffee now?” The question was almost accusatory. “No whiskey? No old fashioned? No ‘snap snap where’s my drink?’” He took his hat off and sat it down on the table, leaning forward once more, his speech finally slowing to an acceptable rate and his pretenses falling by the wayside. His expression had changed. He was no longer nervous looking, no longer aggravated. Something was definitely wrong. “Odette. You alright?” The words were nearly whispered. There was almost concern in them. 

Words: 750 (Total: 750)

GP: 15 (Total: 15)

Thud! was the impact she felt from her seat as a foreign body took up space in the one opposite of her own. It was also the way she felt about whoever it was that sat across from her, a dull thud amongst the blaring headaches, preventing any sort of logical and natural curiosity. It was, all in all, an indefinite red light, something that couldn’t have been more aptly described by Rania’s reaction to the unwelcome guest. Without even raising her head, the amnesiac simply waved her hand around limply, hoping that would be enough to stave off any unnecessary human interaction. Oh, how wrong she was.

The man started speaking and he would not stop. His words, they were not pleasant and there was an air to them as if he’d known her. Rania only scoffed. She didn’t know anyone anymore, she didn’t even know herself anymore.

So just go away, she wanted to say but even that required effort to vocalize blurry thoughts into words and the man, gruff in both rhetoric and appearance, continued to ramble amidst her lack of response. There was something said about making herself ‘scarce,’ and that she wasn’t exhibiting ‘normal behaviour,’ and something about… a something… about a… what the fuck was he talking about?

Furrowing her brow into a creased grimace, Rania slowly lifted her head just enough so that two bloodshot eyes stared tiredly into the visage of a blond, thirty-something-looking man. He must have been one of those, she concluded, someone she’d known before the apparent memory loss. Before she literally landed in Shibuya upon impact and before she fell from the sky.

Adjusting her position so that she sat up in her seat again, Rania finally wound herself up for a response. “Okay, listen you.” Her words came out as more of a mumble. It was hard enough to concentrate on dictation when the pulsing in her head spoke louder than even the words themselves. “I, for one, have no idea who you even are so if we could backtrack a little bit and you could tell me where we met, how you know me, why you’re here, that would be great.” Mild sarcasm dripped in the way she spoke, faintly reminiscent of the way she was before the memory loss but not enough. Giving the apparent stranger a very tacky thumbs-up, Rania swirled around her empty coffee cup before randomly blurting out, “Ah… che, I’m out of coffee again.”

Peering around for her server, the woman had never been so happy to see Miss Chipper-and-Sprightly. She made her way around the table with a surrounding glow, closely akin to that of a heavenly angel. Yes, more coffee! Rania almost exclaimed, her eyes lighting up behind dull pupils. Forgetting that there was even a man sitting across from her, the woman stared with a content sigh as that black liquid godsend refilled in her coffee cup yet again.

But before she could take to her drink, Rania’s personal space was suddenly and rudely interrupted by that waitress, who whispered with a wink, “I didn’t know rugged blonds were your type, Rania!’

Exasperated, Rania glared vehemently at—what was her name again? There was pause, she looked at the waitress’ name tag, and then continued, “Kimiko-san,” she huffed, “You should really mind your own business if you know what’s good for you.” After those darkly muttered words, the amnesiac watched as the girl walked away in a huff before finally returning her attention to the man in front of her.

“Sorry, remind me who you are again. You know my name but I don’t know yours. I feel like this is something running gag, to meet people who know me but not vice versa.” Rania had only planned on staying in the café until closing time but it appeared she would have to ward off a supposedly familiar face from the past first. Was he going to say that she was an ‘Arrancar’ too, whatever that was? Or maybe he would put on a flashy display of fireworks and altogether inhumanly possible actions?

She didn’t really care, whatever it took to get rid of him worked just as well. 

- - - - -

Word count: 701

GP: 14

Total: 1221 / 24

Ezekiel paused for a moment, stunned. Doesn’t know who I…? He tilted his head, squinting and searching for any sign that this might be some sort of farce, that she might just be trying to hide from him, or pretend she was someone else. It seemed to be an illogical thing, considering how nonchalantly public she had been in weeks prior. She hadn’t be acting very Hollow-like, sure, but reapers would still know her face. Seeming oblivious, or at very least, unconcerned with the intense stare, Rania ordered more coffee. There was an exchange of whispers that went largely unnoticed. Ezekiel was too focused on her eyes. The threats towards the waitress, the cold detachment, those were things Ezekiel expected. But the distance, the lack of focus, were not. He couldn’t see any tell on her face, catch any look that made him believe she was pretending to be something that she was not.

So what was she? If she was not a liar, then what did that make her? An amnesiac? Did someone hit her in the head? “Did someone hit you in the head?” The words came out almost before he could even think them. His expression towards the woman, who was guzzling the coffee incessantly, was one of confused distaste. He did not regret the words he blurted out by any stretch. In fact, he was almost indignant. Ezekiel was annoyed that he had traveled so far, tracked her down, searched for her help, and now she couldn’t remember anything? She was his only lead!

A fist clenched beneath the table. Could he convince her to help him again? It had been hard enough the first time to procure her help. Now, he had no leverage. He could offer her nothing that she wanted, except maybe coffee. He had given her freedom. He had risked everything to help her. And now what was she doing with it? Sitting in a corner shop, shakily sipping away. Not a care in the world. It was infuriating. Each gulp was like a middle finger to him. He had come all this way, he had a purpose, and she did not seem to even care. No one had cared. They all looked at him like they had before. Like he was insignificant. Like he was weak. This was what he got for his good deeds?

Good deeds? Hah!

Well, you also got a vial of her blood, but that didn’t end up helping you out any, did it?

Did it?

For a moment, Ezekiel’s thoughts trailed to exactly what had helped him finally overcome his spirit. Was it his resolve? His desire to save those around him? Or was it the strength he had been granted by the relief the blood had given him over an extended period of time?

No time to think about things like that.

She took another sip.

Reflexively, Ezekiel’s hand snapped up from the table and grabbed hold of the cup. “Is there something in this?” She was not behaving correctly. Her every movement was abhorrent, a mockery of the woman Ezekiel had met. She was like a puppet, or a caricature. His fingers did not release, but he would not wrestle it from her. “Just stop a second. Just stop with the coffee for one fucking second.” His tone was hushed again, angry. “I’ll tell you who I am. But first… You tell me who you are. Who you think you are.” He would not break gaze with her. There had to be some kind of clue on her face. If she did not remember him, then did she remember anything? Did she even remember what she was? His heart sank a bit in his chest. Was this even a gigai? What had happened to Rania Odette since he had last seen her? What had she gone through that could have made her lose who she was?

Words: 652 (Total:1,402)

GP: 13 (Total: 28)

The fast motion rewound into slow motion and it sped up again, then compounding into a pressure that kept her body still. She was effectively frozen in motion, a cloud that thickened into an opaque wall separating her from the outside world. Where there were people who wanted to break down the barrier, Rania sat comfortably in the isolation, much like the life she lived as a Hollow. She didn’t realise that there was a desperate desolation that clung to her air and she didn’t want to escape. Because she didn't know what she was escaping from. Where was her final destination? What more was there to say when there was nothing to be remembered?

Rania stared blankly at the familiarity that couldn’t be met halfway. The amnesiac shook her head slowly. “No… nothing of the sort happened,” she said, still perplexed by the man’s behaviour. Thoughtfully, Rania tilted her head to the side and gave a quiet sigh. “Hm… although, I did sort of fall out of the sky. That’s the first thing I can remember. Does that count as hitting my head?” There was no rhyme or reason as to why she was so freely telling him what had happened. It sounded crazy enough, after all; perhaps, she banked on him not believing her words. But the words that wanted to drive away the stranger did not.

Instead, there they sat, just the two of them, like two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit. Like two chapters of different stories, the continuity was nonexistent, couldn’t be pasted together. And just as she went to take another sip of her coffee, there was a rude interruption between lips and liquid heaven. This made her unhappy. It made her very unhappy and a familiar snarl came to fruition. Who was he to interrupt her life like this? Barging in without so much as a ‘hello,’ didn’t the man know it was polite to knock before entering? Rania stared at him in contempt, her lips drawn into a thin line of dissatisfaction and irritation.

“You know what?” She said coldly, calmly, quietly. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation.” With a growl, Rania suddenly slammed the coffee cup down on the table, café-coloured liquid unceremoniously spilling over the edges and onto the smooth surface. Gruffly throwing down some change and paper bills, the Arrancar then stood up to leave. “I swear, all of you fucking Shinigami are all the same.”

But just as Rania stepped to exit, she did a double take toward the blond man. “Wait, hold on a minute. A Shini-what­? I don’t even know what that is.” Shaking her head, the amnesiac threw her hands up in defeat. “I swear I am going crazy,” muttering to herself unhappily, she finally made for the door.

“Ah! Rania-san, I’ll see you tomorrow then!” The waitress bowed her head with a big smile, and she saw Kimiko’s mouth move but Rania didn’t hear the words. Time was slowing down again, the people around her froze, and just as the door opened, the palpitations began to speed up in her heart. A filter of images, a collage of pictures of a time and place she’d never been to, petty words exchanged in a modern speakeasy.

So the little bird finally found me on his own, eh?
 

We finally meet. Do you know who I am?

Actually, that was a silly question, wasn’t it?

Do you know who I am? Do you know… do you know who you are? Do you?

Images, images of the streets of a Paris, France that flipped through her mind like a picture book—but WHY? She wanted to scream. Rania wanted to scream 'why' but just as the distant memories passed over, time decided to speed up again. She was outside. It was a regular Thursday afternoon and the sun had shifted overhead. The amnesiac was headed back to her apartment. She forgot all about what Arrancar were, that Shinigami wanted to kill her, and her own bloodthirsty nature.

But… frozen in motion again. Why did the stories feel like her own? Why did it suddenly feel like the man from before didn’t sound so crazy?

This body, it’s not my own and yet it is, the contradictory schism between myself and I.
- - - - -
Word count: 718 
GP: 14

Total: 1939 / 38

Anger was boiling up and over like the clear, ink-like coffee that spilled over the brim of the cup. Her eyes were changing, rapidly, shifting to and fro from the person that Ezekiel knew, the person that he revered and considered an unlikely savior, and the useless meat sack that wouldn’t stop shaking and drinking coffee. Where would they land? It was like some demented game show. Ezekiel waited on the edge of his seat for a moment that seemed to last forever, before finally, the wheel stopped spinning, and the words came out.

There it was. The snarl in his voice. The curling of her lip as she spoke. The calmness that was only a thin veil over the contempt. This was Rania Odette. And now? Now she was leaving. As she slammed the cup down and left, Ezekiel stayed in his seat and smiled. She was still in there. Whatever had happened, this was the woman he was after. She was just buried deep under some trauma, some malady that made it difficult to channel who she truly was. But now he could see, that with the right amount of provocation, just the right little push, that she could be revived.

Oh, maybe you are, Rania… but we’re all insane. Just a little.

The door barely had a chance to close before the man with the archaic hat and the decidedly out-of-place accent had pushed it open again and slipped quickly through. The residents of the diner, most of them probably would have had trouble noticing the exit. It was a fluid motion, slow for a spiritual being, but faster than what mortals were accustomed to seeing. Before the waitress could come by and ask if he would like something to drink, he was on the sidewalk, on the street, at Rania’s side.

And he was smiling, in the most amiable way that he could. Now, Ezekiel had a plan, and he had hope. Rania had changed, but if she had her memories, she would have known that Ezekiel had changed too. His demeanor was off. And most of all, he was much more persistent now than he ever was. She would learn that in time. For now, tact was in order. This was not an Arrancar who was in need of bargains and blood debts, this was a silly little squishy mortal. What did mortals need? Other than protection? Friends, Ezekiel supposed. Maybe he could provide both.

“I am so sorry, Rania. I hadn’t heard that you had been involved in an accident. It’s just, we used to be… such good friends, and I was a little startled. I wasn’t sure I believed it, but wow. You really must have forgotten everything. Are you ok?” He was walking somewhat sideways, keeping pace with the girl and trying to peer into her eyes, looking concerned and amazed. “My name, by the way, is Ezekiel.” He chuckled. “Sorry. Just feels weird to introduce myself again to an old friend.”

Words: 500 (Total:1,902)

GP: 10 (Total: 38)

I was just… I’m just… just a face in the crowd, right? Just a someone without a past. That’s right… I had no past but... did people like that even exist? Nobody’s ‘somebody’s somebody,’ erased from time, from the pages, the ink rewritten blank over again. It hurt to think about it all and the hurt was clearly reflected in the way she looked at Ezekiel. Almost wanted to know him, wanted to remember that she knew him. The dotted points in her memories, Rania gave them an ultimatum: either erase yourself completely or come back to me—all of it. All of it. None of this flashback bullshit. No longer did the woman want to keep bumping into familiar faces, for them to approach her with the same caution, asking the same questions over again.

Why are you here? What are you doing here?

Do you… even know who you are anymore? Do you?

Insecure. It was insecurity and then he said those words, the words that hurt, that cut deep because Rania had just learned the meaning of… a friend. She’d learned what it meant to be a friend and to have a friend from the diminutive woman called Sekai. And when the blond said them, her mind shook, and then sat still again.

That smile, the way he smiled, and the way he spoke to her. It was hard to discern the truth of it all, if he was being honest or not. She took one step backward, still reeling from the shock and the surprise.

An… accident? Is that what she went through? Is that what really happened, just an accidental… accident? We used to be such good friends, he said. Startled once more, a beat skipped in her heart that was no longer a heart. Were… they? She couldn’t tell anymore, didn’t know which bits of him to believe, if to believe any of his words at all.

Stopped walking and took one more step back again, back into the brick wall of her apartment after they had crossed the street together. Clutched her forehead with one hand and winced, winced at the pain of it all, and shook her head violently. “Am I… okay?” She echoed, an empty echo. “Am I okay… does it look like I’m okay?!" Then outrage, outrage quickly followed, and she looked the man, almost crazed, near tears in her eyes.

Why was all of this so hard to process? Too hard to handle, too many latent emotions that wanted to burst through.

She steadied her breath. “Ezekiel, huh? Were we really old friends or are you just lying?” Desperation in the way she spoke, searched desperately for a truthful answer from his visage. “And this… this ‘everything’ that I’ve forgotten, would you care to fill me in? Because I am well aware that there are many things that I’ve forgotten, it’s what people like you always say to me, and then none of you ever tell me what this ‘everything’ is.”

Because part of her wanted to remember, hated feeling the feeling of the unknown, the insecure, the way she couldn’t share her memories with others anymore.

“Ezekiel… huh?” She said it again, said his name again, wanted to feel the way it rolled off her tongue. Was there anything familial about it? Could she… could she finally remember again?

And this girl, was she going to be all right? 

- - - - -

Word count: 571

GP: 11

Total: 2510 / 49

Ezekiel smiled warmly at the girl. Now that was the response that he was looking for. But just exactly where was this going to lead? It was obvious the gambit he had chosen to play. The pieces were in motion now. But what was his goal here? In truth, it had been an almost reflexive thing. Ezekiel had not been the best liar before, at least, that was what he had told himself. But in the end, he knew it was just because he hadn’t cared enough to lie. In the recent year however, it had become second nature to him.  Everything that he did was a lie. So when Rania Odette, the only lead he had in figuring out what was going on inside of his soul, had up and left, he did the only thing he knew to do. He told her what he thought she wanted to hear, and she had responded positively.

But what did that net him? This amnesiac shell of a person was no help to him as she was. She had forgotten what she was, and perhaps there was no way for her to remember. Ezekiel had no clue on that matter. For all he knew, for all he could sense, she might not have been an Arrancar anymore at all. She could have actually been turned back into a mortal, if that sort of thing was possible. Ezekiel liked to believe it wasn’t, but there were creatures out there so powerful, so dangerous that they could bend the rules of the universe, the cycle itself. He had learned to never rule anything out.

So, what was he doing if she couldn’t help him? Why was he continuing to bother? Someone has to. He thought in an irritated manner. In her current state, Rania was nothing less than a liability. The human world was a dangerous place, wrought with random violence and incidents that claimed hundreds- thousands! Without even beginning to count the spiritual influences about. Rania had made enemies during her life as Arrancar, and just because Ezekiel couldn’t sense her did not mean that she could not be sensed. Someone had to protect her until she was “right” again. And if anyone was going to do it, Ezekiel supposed it might as well be him. Perhaps while keeping an eye on her, he could figure out a way to make her revert.

“Rania, I would love to fill you in.” He continued to smile. “You just name the time and place. Maybe we could grab a bite to eat, or something, and I can answer some of your questions? I don’t want to just overload you with information, so let’s take this slowly. I don’t know what the SOP is for amnesiacs.” He let out an earnest chuckle.

Besides. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to make a friend again! Ezekiel paused, offended by his own errant thought. But she won’t be my friend. It will all be a lie. The first voice became quiet, ashamed. Oh… Right.

“It’s just good to see that you’re alright.”

Words: 515 (Total:2,417)

GP: 10 (Total: 48)

There was simply an empty space, something that was lost, desolate, and out of reach. Pain turned into desperation turned into anger turned into sadness in the end. Always started the same, ended the same. Didn’t know what to do or how to feel. How did Rania react when she looked at Ezekiel? What was the appropriate reaction when she was on page one and he was on page one hundred? Too far ahead, couldn’t read the words fast enough.

Yet through all of this, he smiled. Ezekiel smiled at her continually, how? Maybe she should have run away, should have been running away. Were there enemies who chased after her? Did they still want to strike down after she had ‘died’? But you can’t run away, you can’t run away from what you don’t know. Even time couldn’t tell the story of Rania anymore because what did tomorrow bring? Nobody knew anymore. Nobody knew.

And the onset of exhaustion, it hit her quickly and fog glossed over her eyes. Still couldn’t be sure of Ezekiel’s motives, had no idea what to do anymore. His words, she wasn’t sure if they were honest or not and yet somewhere, somewhere inside, Rania wanted to believe him, wanted to believe in something.

In the blink of an eye, it could all be over, could all be over… right now. With heavy eyes, Rania merely sighed and started heading into the apartment lobby. She waved a hand at Ezekiel and pointed toward the elevator. “I don’t know… I just… don’t know anymore. The outside doesn’t make sense and neither does the inside. I’m going back to my apartment if you want to see the mess that I am. Maybe you can tell me if I wasn’t like this before.” A sad smile as she ran back to the place where she fell apart.

Darkness enveloped the apartment, the blinds were permanently shut closed. Clothes strewn across the floor, flung onto the bed, and other objects. It was a mess, just like she. Smelled of—no, reeked of stagnancy, felt like a place where the story started and ended abruptly.

“I don’t think it’s quite accurate to say I’m all right, Ezekiel. Was there a time before this when I wasn’t like this or was I always just…?” Another deep sigh. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question, it was too disheartening. Throwing her jacket unceremoniously against the dining room table, Rania panoramically gestured to her one bedroom apartment. “Help yourself to anything here, not that there’s much…” The fridge was empty, no pictures, no sign of living if it weren’t for the mess blanket of clothes. It perspired of the stench of someone who had given up long ago.

Wish I could undo the pain. Turn back to yesterday. Can’t realise, not just yet, that… the healing begins with me but until that time comes... how will I get through until then?

“Somehow, I wish that everything could be like ‘before.’ Whatever ‘before’ was.”  

- - - - -

Word count: 502

GP: 10 

Total: 3012 / 10 (59)

Ezekiel was almost as surprised by the apartment itself as he had been by the fact that she had invited him up to it (he wasn’t one hundred percent up on human tendencies, but he was fairly certain that this case was different than most times that offer was made to relative strangers). It was small, dark, dank. Not with the smells of sweat or true slovenliness, but with a depressing sort of aether. She really had given up in every way. Despite her behavior, Ezekiel had imagined some practices would be automatic for the Hollow, but obviously he had been mistaken, because never in a million years would he have imagined her former self to be a slob. Delicates on the floor. A complete lack of anything that might have a sentimental value. This wasn’t a home as much as it was a den for a lonely and injured creature.

”Wow” Ezekiel breathed the word quietly, without thinking. His mind snapped back into reality instantly and he followed the statement up. “No. You weren’t quite like this before.” He smiled, but this time it was less saccharine, less fabricated. This time it was simply sad and knowing. He’d be damned if this place didn’t feel like home, in the short period when he had had a home. “But I certainly can sympathize.” His voice trailed off on that note, the honesty of it a little too much for him to stomach himself just yet.

It was beginning to become difficult which parts of his statement were charade and which parts were spoken from his heart. Rania had never been his friend before. He had never felt for her. But this was like seeing the fall of something great. Even if she was his enemy, even if he had always kept in mind that he might have to (try to) kill her, he would never have wanted this. She was something impressive before, a force of nature. She was fear incarnate, regal in her mannerisms and speech. She was the classy Bond villain.

He considered his next words carefully. He didn’t want to excite her fragile condition, but he did want to lead her to a more stable set of mind. Practically, Ezekiel told himself that it would make things easier if he did so. She would be more cooperative if their relationship yielded something beneficial to her, like peace or comfort. But in truth, there was a part of him that wanted her to hurt less.

“I’ve gone through times like this before myself. It’s rough. I can’t even imagine how you must feel. I’m just. I’m surprised.” He stood in the middle of the room and allowed his eyes to drift from the clutter to her own when they were available. “Because you weren’t like this before. It’s almost funny, in a twisted way.” He smirked. “You’re the strongest person I know. You were very organized and you always had everything together.” Not that much of a lie. He could surmise as much, and if he was wrong, well what did it really matter? “Frankly, you were kind of one bad bitch.” He couldn’t stop it now. He chuckled. Honestly again.

“And I mean that in a good way, of course. You didn’t take shit off of anyone. And the only reason I laugh is because, I look at you, and I know that personality is still there, and I know you’ll overcome this. Things will get better. You will recover.” He tilted his head slightly, still smiling. “You’re too strong for this to stop you, Rania.”

He had laid his cards on the table. Would she accept him or reject him? It was a dangerous game to be playing, but this woman still held the only potential answers for him. Hers was the only power that had ever helped him understand what his spirit was, and hers was the blood that now took him back there, over and over again. He needed to protect her in this fragile state, and that would be easier if he were allowed to actually be around. His stomach was in a knot as he waited to gauge the response, or maybe it was a pang of sympathy again. He couldn’t honestly be sure.

Words: 712 (Total:3,129)

GP: 14 (Total: 62)

There was happiness, just a little bit of happiness.

The part of her that Rania was never able to discover prior, that truly human part, it smiled along with Ezekiel. Were they the same? Weren’t the two of them just… the same? As she was now, lost, directionless, nowhere to go, turning in the same space. Rinse and repeat. Maybe they really were friends before this; maybe they could have been friends in another time and place, not as Arrancar and Shinigami but as something else, as something completely different.

After all, the lines were blurred from the beginning for the amnesiac. It was always hard to tell what was true and what wasn’t. The lies had only just begun to become more discernable and she had realised that there was a certain degree of genuine emotion that could never be faked; some things you just can’t pretend, imitated, maybe even emulated, but never truly replicated. There was a melancholy truth in the way Ezekiel spoke, the way he looked at her with sorrowful eyes, looked at her like she was something of a shell, former glory all but lost.

Then silence followed with neither person knowing what to say next. If I wasn’t like this before, then what was I? Who was I?

Always questions, questions, questions, and when the Shinigami finally found the words, that bit of happiness quickly exited and consequently yielded anxiety. Then came the foreboding restlessness, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach, realising just how different she must have been. Ezekiel’s words, they battered Rania even more.

Was I strong? Was I in control? Did I know what I wanted? Was I simply… an entirely different person?

She stared sadly at Ezekiel and started to shake her head. Where did this unnerving confidence come from? How—why was he so sure in his words? There was no way… there was simply no way…

“I think… you must have me confused with someone else. There’s no way I could have been like that or ever will be, in fact.” Curbed by the provincial limits of her current form, Rania had the hardest time imagining herself as someone more than this, more than what she was now.

So the little birdie has finally found me… finally found me again.

What will you do now? This time? Are you strong or are you weak?
 

Are you strong?

Or are you weak?

Blackness… blackness all around, surrounded by darkness in a room that had no exit. The whispers, they were everywhere yet nowhere. Suddenly, a low light swung across and Rania could see the remnants of a woman, a girl with no face, bathed in red, bathed in red all around…

This isn’t real. This is fake. This has to be fake.

And then a high-pitched cackle.

NO… IT’S… NOT… felt the searing pain of these words being etched into her very own skin, blood pouring out precipitously and thinning, ever thinning until every last drop of crimson poured out of her. It hurt. It hurt so much, unimaginable, more than anything she had experienced to date. Dizzy as red flooded the dark room, vision blurry as she collapsed and fainted. It’s not… real…

Falling, falling, and suddenly the room changed again. Eyes fluttering open in that warehouse again… This was in… France? Why did all thoughts point back to France? What happened here? Was this where they met? And who was that woman she just envisioned? Somebody she used to know? Someone who died, someone she might’ve killed even? Or nothing at all? 

Fear, fear of the unknown because Rania didn’t know. She didn’t know that this was the strength of her power, disillusioned and terrifying. Never stopped to understand it, to really know what she was doing to others. Never thought about why her power was her power. Was it a representation of herself? Or was it a culmination of self and hundreds upon hundreds of souls consumed? Did she know… would she know even when the memories returned? Always running without ever looking back yet stuck in the broken record of her past. It was a catch-22; stuck on a moving train.

A sharp inhale in returned Rania back to her dingy apartment and she felt the tears falling down her face, moist as the woman touched fingers to cheek. Almost breathless, what did she just see?

“Did we… did we… meet in France, by any chance?” Those words were hard enough to say, still shook up inside.

Cognizance; seek it once you awaken. 

- - - - -

Word count: 761

GP: 15

Total: 3773 / 25 (74)

 Something changed in the atmosphere, and Ezekiel could see it. It became a palpable thing, the air in the room suddenly so thick that it could be cut with a knife. It was a tension, an emotional one. His words, had they been too much? Had they triggered this? A little too much truth, perhaps, at once for the woman. Or perhaps he was just fundamentally wrong, and there was nothing left of the regal beast he had once hunted to what seemed like the ends of the earth, that he had feared and respected, in some small way.

She began to backpedal, to recoil from his words. Where hope had been for one fleeting second in her eyes, now there was nothing but fear and doubt and pain. But it was more than that. It was the tension. A sudden expressional thing that took the air from the room, made it hard to breath. An unspoken gravity was bearing down on her, and by extension, Ezekiel, since he had no idea what was really going on there. That frightened him, made him anxious on fundamental levels.  

A sudden breath, nearly startling Ezekiel, and she was crying. Holy shit, what is wrong with you? He thought to himself in a way that was more sympathetic than accusatory. What must this woman have been through to be so shaken up? And what could Ezekiel possibly do to alleviate that pain? He was a simple man, not a therapist. He had simple, time-sensitive goals. Could he really afford to spend the time staying here, playing doctor for this broken thing?

No. Focus. What the fuck, anyways?

You’re not confused you’re just fuckin’ ADD. Now focus on what you’re supposed to be doing. I have a plan. I have to do this, or else nothing is ever going to be right.

No. Ezekiel thought back to the warehouse, to the threatening words. To the woman wanting to kill him. How close that had been. How close his schemes had brought him to dying. In the end, that was all that this was as well, another death wish. Because when Rania’s memories returned, Ezekiel had the feeling that she wasn’t exactly going to be happy to see him.

Focus. Something bad is happening here.

“You remember that?” Was all that Ezekiel could say. His own confusion prevented him from weaving any elaborate sort of lie, or from really even gauging what direction to go. Did he encourage her memories? It seemed the only way he would get the help he needed, but at the same time, what if it was too much? And what if when she did remember she was… less friendly than she was now? Instead, he opted for a non-committing statement. Obviously she remembered something. He needed to know now how much that was. “It’s been a long time ago, but yeah. We did.” His look was concerned. “But are you alright, Rania? I mean, I know you said you’re not, and I understand, but… You look… Shaken up. More shaken up, suddenly. What just happened?”

What would an old friend do in this situation? His instincts told him “hug,” but Ezekiel felt that might be pushing things too far, so he simply extended his arms a bit, low, hanging around his waist, but open. He moved forward only slightly. His movement towards her was cautious, but still troubled. Whatever was eating away at the poor thing, whatever had happened, it had really done a number on her. He wanted to help her. Much as he wanted to deny it, there were parts of him, shards, that wanted to help her, to see her happy. And perhaps, in the end, that would benefit him as well. But for now, all he could do was attempt to see her through this.

“Rania. What can I do?” Honesty, again, in the words, an earnest desire to see the girl through this spoken in a near-whisper. “I want to help you, but I need you to let me. Just tell me how.”

Let’s see if you can do this on your own time, then.

Right.

Words: 718 (Total:3,847)

GP: 14 (Total: 76)

In the blink of an eye, everything could change. All that I believed could come alive and then suddenly become out of reach. Like the crests and troughs of a wave, it was the up and down, the back and forth, the ping pong effect of this game called emotions, also called life. Running short of breath but in need of desperate oxygen to run away from all of this. How am I supposed to breathe? She wanted to undo the pain, undo the pain in the same way as it had come, so easily and fast. She wasn’t breathing anymore, realising that she was never free to begin with as she started to remember, to remember all the things from the place where everything had fallen apart. It didn’t start with Ezekiel, it never started with anyone except herself. All the pain was rooted back to herself. She caused the very pain that others often took the blame for. Everything was caving in, wasn't it? 

And the tears? They just kept on falling, kept on flowing from her eyes until she couldn’t cry anymore. Quickly wiped away the drops of warm and salty moisture with her hands, had to compose herself in front of Ezekiel. The amnesiac was showing far too much weakness in front of the man, couldn’t even verify if she had known him from before. The flashbacks didn't help either and in fact, frightened her because she didn’t understand, would never understand until the memories returned. How would she live until then? Time didn’t seem like an old friend. It was merely something that got in the way. It was an obstacle, an endless and flowing obstacle.

Letting out a deep sigh as Rania moved toward the dining room table, she sat down in an effort to collect her thoughts and nodded as the Shinigami spoke. Her eyes were red and puffy from the crying but at least the tears had stopped. She was still a little shaky, a bit distraught but otherwise sedated in behaviour for now. “Yes… I do remember,” she said quietly, her words no louder than a hoarse whisper. “Or at least I think I remember. These are just some of the things I’ve seen in my mind and I don’t know where they’re coming from but if it’s from the past that I can’t recall, then I suppose it makes more sense…”

And the worst of it all was that Ezekiel really felt like a friend, really felt like they were friends before the trauma occurred, before the memory failed. They could never continue like this so why even bother? Why did he even bother to try? Answers that would not be received and thoughts that she did not have the ability to contain yet.

With a sad smile, she looked toward the blond and gestured for him to sit across from her at the empty dining room table. “Well…” Her voice sounded thoughtful and she looked pensive enough before a melancholic chuckle filled the heavy air of the dark room. “How can you help me, you ask. I think… well, I really think I need a drink now. Probably a bad decision to mix alcohol with all of that coffee I drank earlier but I’ve probably done things even more idiotic. Just one regret to bury another, after all. Although I don’t think I have anything in the fridge…” Rania trailed off toward the end, murmuring to herself, as she glanced toward her nearly immaculate kitchen. Unlike the rest of the apartment, the cooking area was virtually untouched as if she never stepped foot in it, which was true. The contents of the cupboards, drawers, refrigerator, all of it was empty, much like the container of herself.

Looking back to Ezekiel, Rania smiled again. “Got anything you feel like sharing? Otherwise, looks like I’ll have to make a trip to the nearby convenience store.” 

- - - - -

Word count: 654

GP: 13

Total: 4427 / 38 (87)

Ezekiel moved to the table and sat, mildly anxious, but all in all, pleasantly surprised by the sudden warmness. She had softened, visibly. A wall had fallen down, sheets of anger and confusion slipped away, tumbling to the ground and revealing the sinew and the bone of the situation, the core, the nugget of truth in thought and emotion that she had previously been trying so hard to hide. He had done it. He had made her realize that he was her friend, a truth or untruth, Ezekiel wasn’t sure, but Rania believed it, and that was all that mattered. And now she was vulnerable. Emotionally? To let him in? Or for him to take advantage of? What would the reaper do? So many voices in his head, all speaking, but one only snickered. His smile broadened. It was an honest smile, it always had been. No matter what, there were shards, pieces of Nathanael that meant everything he said. Others did not, but then, who were they?

“A drink sounds amazing right now.” He chuckled with some obvious relief. “And frankly, you’re in luck…” His words trailed off and he leaned forward. The motion was so quick, so effortless, that it was almost reflexive. Ezekiel wasn’t the fastest man on the ethereal plane, but for someone who was essentially mortal, the simple motion would be almost impossible to notice. And how could she have known what he had done? How could she have seen, when Ezekiel himself didn’t? He had hidden it from himself, his right hand unable to comprehend what his left had plotted, his eyes blind to his own machinations.

But on some level, some deep, deep level of Ezkiel’s mind that was nothing but dust and darkness and the sound of gates creaking open and closed, something had spoken up. It had snickered, and it had stepped into the light, an aspect no longer content to stand on the sidelines, an aspect that wanted to be heard. And it had slipped into Ezekiel’s soul like a clear, odorless toxin, sliding through his veins and turning his own will, muddling with the humors irrevocably, just like the thick blood that rolled from the nearly empty vial Ezekiel carried in his breast pocket as it slid into the whiskey flask. It had only taken a moment, a fraction of a second that Rania, with her puffy eyes and her sudden vulnerability, would never notice missing.

“I always have something to drink. Which might be a bad sign, now that I think about it.” He continued to smile as he placed the flask onto the table. “Hope you don’t mind bourbon.” His eyes were earnest, his heart in the right place. His mind, pieces of it, worked against him, but he didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand what he was doing, what he hoped to accomplish, but in the end, his only response in the heat of the moment to the things that he himself had set into motion was to simply pretend it hadn’t happened. Whatever thoughts had crossed his mind, whatever part of him that had wanted to expose this poor soul to its own blood, and by extension, its old nature and reiatsu, had slipped back into their own darkness, hidden into a nook of Ezekiel’s mind that he did not understand or know how to locate.

The flask sat quietly on the wooden surface. I guess you win. Who? Me... I guess. The moments were miniscule, fleeting, but they seemed to last an eternity. This was what it had all come back to, wasn’t it? Back to square one. Hello, sweetheart. Do you remember this? Here’s hoping you don’t. Would she take a drink? Fool me once. Would it even matter if she did? Would it change anything? Or would he just mind-fuck someone who wasn’t what she was before, couldn’t possibly be what she was before. I don’t want her to be what she was before… Yes I do. In the end, this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? If there was a chance to turn her back, to restore her power, then that was what he had to do. She was no good to him like this.

She was a friend.

Words: 713 (Total:4,560)

GP: 14 (Total: 90)

Was it a lie? Weren’t these lies, purely sugarcoated white lies? White lies…? Simply white lies… or something bigger, something much more deceptive than that. Fraud by friendship, what would Rania reap from the fake out? To what extent did the pros outweigh the cons for the Shinigami to continue acting fallaciously? But she didn’t know any better. Rania simply didn’t know any better because as was, she didn’t know anything. Thought the world was a cruel place, yes, but would never understand the true severity over what was honestly and truly terrible. Once upon a time, the amnesiac was horror incarnate; she was the terror that Rania no longer knew but the next few moves, already set into motion, would they finally bring down the deserved deliverance?

The moist backdrops behind her eyes began to dry up, the wells of tears that she had cried, they were almost like an afterthought to the way Rania transitioned from melancholy to a content, albeit unfounded comfort. She smiled at Ezekiel, feeling as if the atmosphere was becoming less and less tense. Even the sun could shine into the darkest crevices when angled at the right degree… wasn’t that true? That had to be true, had to believe it was true… right? Sorrowful second-guessing and she cursed the sad thoughts that never truly went away. Like a heavy weight that blanketed her mind, a fog that couldn’t be dispersed, protecting something? Blocking what wanted to belong again, perhaps.

And soon, her eyes stared past Ezekiel. She was looking at him but gaze was out of focus, Rania was becoming lost again. “E-eh?” A forcibly meek voice, the sound of someone who had fallen apart. She was going to be betrayed. It had happened right in front of her yet none of this… none of this she would witness. Glossed over the Shinigami’s words as Rania reached for the flask; swirled it around to hear the liquid inside slosh against the container walls. The smell of hard liquor was apparent, almost burned her insides as the sensation ran through her veins. But this was nothing compared to…

A sad laugh, quiet and reserved. “Frankly, I think I’m more of a whiskey girl but I suppose this will do just as well…”

From the poison, she drank and her parched lips would thirst for the vile liquid, the venom that was polluted with the toxin of her own blood. What made this crimson any different than the red that flowed through her body currently? Why hadn’t this happened before? Was it simply the affliction of an active power versus one that was submerged? Did the blood that contained memories of all of those painful yesteryears make the difference?

Was it because… was it because…?

Was it because… you lied? You… LIED TO ME.

Just one sip. One sip was all it took for everything... to come back. 

Rania slammed the flask down on the table and hard. She gripped both sides of her head, screaming in pain as the tortured flood settled back into her mind. The memories she had once lost, they were all coming back to her now.

It’s all coming back to me, remembering how I was trying to be strong. Remembering why I hated this man in the first place and then remembering why I eventually ended up helping him. Did he betray me like this? Hadn’t he betrayed me like this… just now…?

The blood smeared against the lipstick stained mirrors, the toxin of Disillusionment, how it felt to swing a kill with a simple Bala. All of the reasons she hated herself, hated her human past, the bitterness was overwhelming. Erasmus wasn’t here to save her anymore. She had to rely on herself, push past the monstrosity of accumulated experiences and revelations.

Because the memories didn’t push out the new ones and instead, they coexisted with one another. And Rania still remembered, she still remembered her time as a ‘human’ once more, as a fallacy to the nature of Arrancar by living without memory and without power. She still remembered Sekai, still remembered the humanity of it all. It disgusted her even if there was a sliver of her that felt relieved.

But memory without the power to back it up, that was a dangerous combination. She was angry, oh-so-angry at Ezekiel. Growled from her throat as she glared viciously at the blond before her.

“So you… LIED TO ME, didn’t you, Ezekiel? We were never friends. Why didn’t you just kill me when you had the chance?” Words spoken through gritted teeth, the influx was like the reintroduction of the burden of a soul into her body. It was heavy, weighted upon her like something altogether unimaginable. Would she push past all of the hurt once more? Could she survive this?

Because the room was still spinning and the world was still turning. It wouldn’t stop for just her. Not like this. 

- - - - -

Word count: 825

GP: 16

Total: 5252 / 54 (103)

A smile

Panic gripped the girl’s face and she looked as though she might come out of her skull. The flask smashed against the table, tumbling and spilling its clear, bloodstained contents over the wooden surface. They spread along the grains, surging forward with each pulse that leaked from the specially constructed flask Ezekiel had had made for himself so long ago, for the first time he would meet this Black Maiden. The screams reached their pitch, but it was still too soon to tell. Ezekiel sat stalwart on the other side of the table. His hands were folded, his lips a blank, expressionless line; but his eyes were wide, drinking in every detail of Rania’s expressions. The pale light reflected from the pool that had formed between them, its surface quivering from the screams and the shaking.

For a moment, the reaper allowed his eyes to drift to its surface, glassy in the light, but the face he saw in it, the reflection of Rania Odette, was different. It had changed since his eyes had left it. The screaming had stopped. Her eyes were on him now, her expression vicious. He raised his gaze once more, unable to prevent a smirk from creeping across his visage, but perfectly capable of hiding it with his folded hands.

It worked.

And suddenly, all the other voices, all the other pieces of Ezekiel that had hoped for peace, that had hoped for friendship, that had hoped for a quiet, simple ending to this horrible story of deception and hate, became quiet, and the part of Ezekiel that calculated, that shut himself off to the rest of the world, that snickered coldly when it was faced with tragedy, stepped into the light.

I knew it would.

This was the way it was always going to have to be. Pretending it was anything else was just wasting time, and the more time I waste, the closer we get to another event like The Massacre coming our way. You’re not strong enough to stop that, Ezekiel. I know that. Not like I am. The only reason I am here is to fix myself. To fix Rosuto-Keisei. We’re not here to make friends and rehabilitate monsters. You had a mission.

But I wish I could, one day. Maybe.

Make a friend, I mean.

Goddamnit, I am so pathetic. I don’t need a friend right now. I need to be able to protect my kin. What good would a friend be if I couldn’t protect them? No good. They’d be an eventuality, just like Nara.

The bitterness of the thought snapped Ezekiel back into the present, into the living room of the apartment with the soaked table.

“This was never about killing you, Rania.” Ezekiel’s words were calm, but sharp, assertive. The woman before him still did not seem like a threat. She was still acclimating to the rush of everything coming back. That exposing her to her old Reiatsu even worked was an unexpected miracle, but one that Ezekiel welcomed. Now she was where he wanted her. Now they could talk.

“What would I even have to gain by that? As far as the Soul Society is concerned, you’ve been dead for some time. I kept up my end of the bargain in that regard.” He took a deep breath tried to allow the woman to calm herself for a moment before continuing.

“Do you realize what I just did to you? Do you remember everything? Or are there parts that are still fuzzy? I gave you some of your blood, Rania. Some of the blood that you gave me months ago. Amazing that it didn’t clot, isn’t it? I exposed you to your old self, and obviously, that has had an effect. You seem to be remembering things, if you thought that I would try to kill you, that is.” He considered the woman. “Because that’s what reapers do, right? They kill your kind. That’s what you’re thinking, and if you remember that, you must remember other things.” The words felt good on his tongue. In the wake of everything that had happened, everyone that they had lost, settling the score sounded like ecstasy. How could he have ever considered befriending this creature? “But you and I obviously had a different sort of encounter, a different arrangement.”

His heart was thundering. This woman had to be the key. She had to be able to help him. She was the only one who ever had before. “Rania, I’m here because I need your help. But I needed your help, not that weak little thing you were before. Not that sad, dejected excuse for a mortal. I need you, the woman who would have rather killed me than look at me. I needed the you that was powerful.”

He pressed his eyes together. “I am sorry for the deception, in some regards, but you left me no choice. For my sake and yours, I needed to find you. And it seems like I have. Now I’m not going to be so arrogant as to say ‘you’re welcome,’ but I do need you to calm down a second and realize that I haven’t hurt you. I haven’t attacked you. Fuck, I’ve tried to help you, so that you can help me.”

Another long pause. Another deep breath. Ezekiel unfolded his hands and ran them through his hair, leaning back and exhaling.

“Rania. How long have you been like this? Do you… Do you know everything that happened? Were you involved? I need to know before we continue this conversation.” His eyes were set on her again, locked unshakably from her own. “I need you to help me, but first I need you to explain. Were you a part of the group that invaded the Seireitei?” Was that something that Rania would do? Of course. She’s a monster. They all are. But… She did seem, somewhat better than that. Surely she wouldn’t have done something so pointlessly morbid.

Words: 1,003 (Total:5,563)

GP: 20 (Total: 110)

Where did the journey start and where did it end? Feeling my way through the darkness, I can’t tell where I’m going anymore and that’s why I was lost. That’s why I became lost and soon, the time flashed by me, the moments passed by without so much as looking back. Then time started to get further and further away from me because I couldn’t keep up and I’d become stuck, so stuck that I thought I was moving backward. But the stillborn tumble, maybe it could still prove educational in the end because if anything, Rania could at least learn a thing or two about herself. To take away from a negative experience, the cliché of all clichés.
 
But the pain made it hard to think and her head throbbed like the worst migraine imaginable, even worse than the headaches she was suffering just earlier today. Those felt so… human, so insignificant now and what was Ezekiel doing? He was laughing at me, wasn’t he? He was mocking me.
 
Is this what you wanted?
 
An empty vessel of memories.
 
Because when the voices in his head stopped, so did the ones in her head too. The voices that hoped for similar things, for peace, for friendship, for quiescence of the mind.  These were all silly afterthoughts now and all she wanted to do was wreak havoc, to wreak havoc on Ezekiel and the world. But it seemed that the Shinigami’s experiment was only partially successful. While Rania remembered every suffocating memory including all of her human life, her time as a Hollow-breed, and even her time as a second-chance human, it seemed that the core of what her made her Arrancar still hadn’t returned yet. The Bala she wanted to call forth wasn’t responding to her beckoning and the table still felt heavy, she wanted to flip it over in his face but it still felt unwieldy.
 
She was still weak.
 
Reduced to merely growling at the blond before her, Rania bit down on her tongue in an effort to curb things she’d later regret saying. This clearly delineated the top-heavy power distribution. Where Rania might have been stronger in full form, she had none now. Ezekiel still had the upper hand and it was damning to her pride.

It was just so frustrating... All she had were her words and her memories still. 

So rhetoric she would wield for now, even if it was the only she could do to press on forward. 
 
“Ezekiel, I’m pretty sure I held up my end of the bargain too. Did you once hear my name spoken in Soul Society after what happened in France?” The words seethed through her lips and gritted teeth, but still a better response than most considering Rania's personality. “And I damn well know what you just did. It is, as you said, my blood in fact. What sort of imbecile do you take me for?!”
 
Slamming a fist down on the table, Rania’s eye twitched. The anger was rising again, she could feel herself becoming more and more annoyed. “Listen, I am not interested in discussing what is and isn’t the responsibility of a Soul Reaper. I don’t care so if you could kindly tell me what you came for this time and leave as quickly as possible, that would be awesome.” Mild sarcasm dripped over the thin veil of composure.
 
Her clenched fist relaxed slightly as it unfurled over the table and Rania’s breathing seemed to become stable again. She looked at Ezekiel squarely in the eye and asked that age old question, “What do you need help with, Ezekiel?” It was the same struggle as in the first encounter. The Shinigami could have saved so much more time if only he knew what to say when he needed to say it already.
 
And when he finally formulated what he needed to ask, Rania realised these were questions about sensitive subjects, things she was reluctant to elaborate on. Her eyes narrowed and the edge of her lips twitched slightly. “I’ll answer your questions in the order you asked them. One, I don’t know how long I’ve been like this. I lost track of time but it’s probably been a couple months already. Two, anything that’s happened in that time, I was probably not involved because, hello, no memory and power. Even in that state, I did my best to stay alive so invading Soul Society was probably not in my best interests.”
 
But…
 
Rania straightened her back as she stood.
 
“But I think I may know someone who was involved… why do you ask?” 
- - - - -
Word count: 769
GP: 15
 
Total: 6021 / 69 (118)

Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed at the woman.

Why do I ask?

“Why do I ask?

Ezekiel took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. “Sorry. If you weren’t involved, you weren’t involved. I just. Needed to know.” Collecting what was left of the moment, Ezekiel chose his next words carefully. He did not want to drive the woman away. He… He needed her. Still. But this new level, this new layer of complexity was intriguing. She knew someone who was involved? Other than Tova? There were accounts of others, sure. But if she knew someone who wasn’t already on the Soul Society’s list of alleged accomplices, it would be well worth knowing.

But first things first.

“Before…” He hesitated, gathered himself again. “When you helped me before, you remember it was because of my sword’s spirit. Under the influence of your power, I gained some semblance of relief and control for the first time. I had never… I had never been able to control what was happening before. You helped me. I cannot even explain how you helped me, both through what you did and what you gave me. I had been doing better. I had been growing. But…” His words trailed off.

But what? What did happen? This was the difficult part. This was the part that made him sound like a moron, a pathetic lunatic. But these were words that needed to be spoken.

“She’s gone.” He let them hang there like words written in blood on the wall. His eyes probed Rania’s own. Did she understand him?

“I know… That must seem like a good thing to you, hearing it. But. Something’s not right, anymore. I am incomplete. Hollow.”

And? Most importantly?

“And…”

What are you, Ezekiel?

“Weak.”

His eyes fell slowly to the pool on the table and Rania’s reflection, no longer able to look into the unfriendly face. It was something that hurt him to admit. But he was. Like this, he would never be able to save his fellows. Never be able to protect them from another massacre. When Ezekiel did speak again, it was barely more than a murmur. “You were the only one who could help me. Before. I didn’t know what to do, so. I figured this would be a good place to start.” His arrogance was gone. His words were barely more than a child’s, pleading. 

Words: 462 (Total:6,025)

GP: 9 (Total: 119)

They were speaking in different chapters again, their words were not aligned with one another. Their thoughts were fractured where one thing meant something else, something altogether different, something completely… different.

And there it was again. In the blink of eye, everything had changed once more. The atmosphere, once heated, reaching the tipping point of boiling temperatures, quickly cooled. The highs and lows of how Rania reacted and Ezekiel too. Both of them were still spinning around each other because they were lost and one, no, perhaps both were still flying… on broken wings, waited to be mended somehow. But that ‘somehow’ was a dark place and there was only so much she could do for a Shinigami wandered off the beaten path. After all, Rania was never meant to help but in this particular case, maybe she could guide—maybe she had to guide him for survival.

Rania took a moment to meditate. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. And out. Her dark eyes fluttered toward the Soul Reaper and then all the anger was lost. “It seems I was speaking of an entirely different incident; however, the one you speak of is another that I, too, was not involved in. It was before I knew the person who enrages you as you speak… the King.”

An uncharacteristic understanding of his anger, the way his emotions shook uncontrollably in recalling the invasion of Seireitei. She almost had sympathy for him—or was it empathy, rather? Rania could not fault him for the way he currently acted but was the Shinigami so ignorant? After all, hadn’t Soul Society done the same to Las Noches not months earlier? The shift in ownership had only just returned to the hands that it belonged too: Tova’s.

“It is selfish that you only think in the righteousness of Shinigami. Do you not know what your people did to mine in the Siege of Las Noches? Like the blind leading the blind, history only repeats itself… is what we always say and sometimes, that is damning and true.. But alas, we are not here to change history nor are we here to discuss politics, are we now?” The Arrancar broke into a silence, waning from Ezekiel’s hesitance. The Soul Reaper felt, looked, was fragile, as if he could break at any moment in time, much more delicate than even Rania’s current state of mind. He was desperate again, had always been desperate, even from the first time they had met. This was an aspect that had not changed. And if she needed to help him again to move on, then so be it. That was the outcome that Rania simply had to accept.

After all, maybe it was supposed to have been that way all along, from the moment they met. 

And so, they soldiered on as best as they could. 

Even if his words were still fractured; even if it seemed like he was speaking in circles. Yet… despite all of this, Rania understood all too well and a chuckle escaped from her lips. She looked to the blond in amusement and sighed lightly. “Ezekiel, if it is my blood you seek, I cannot sure how useful that will be to you in my current state, sorry to disappoint. You may be incomplete but there is one thing you are truly not and that is Hollow. Lost, defeated even but never truly Hollow and clearly something you are likely incapable of handling. And… how do I say this?”

A moment’s gap in between as Rania paced slowly around the living room. “Hm… it is a drug that you seek, something similar to my blood—my toxin, is it not? All I’ve known in my time on this mortal world are humans because that is what I pathetically thought myself to be. No Quincy. No Shinigami. No kill-on-sight Hollow-breed, simply human and if that is the sort of help that you seek, I may know someone who can help. But God willing, this is your risk to take again. Though human she is, this person is just as twisted and deranged as a stereotypically based Hollow.”

It was the same as before. He would have to trust her once more but this time, the outcome Rania could control even less. Ezekiel was no longer going to operate within the boundaries of her own power; instead, it was an entirely different game of bloodlust that he was entering. Was he prepared? Well… he would have to answer to that on his own. Her work was done here, as far as she was concerned.

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Word count: 766

GP: 15

Total: 6787 / 84 (133)