Are You Home [Closed|Amaya]

Kiriko's gaze turned to burnished coals as her focus narrowed to one small human-shaped vessel. She did not recognize the woman based on the myriad of memorized physical descriptions her intelligence network had gathered over the years. That alone was irritating as the Arrancar before her radiated power. It wasn't the muted sort of haziness she had come to expect, but a heavy muffling blanket that sought to suffocate the very air from her lungs.

Fear licked at her soul like a candle's flame, but it was washed away all too easily by anger. Kiriko flared her own reiatsu, pulling it in around her like a cloak, the purple waves blooming and cocooning her in their protective hold. “Who are you.” Her words were guttural and harsh, bit out between clenched teeth. It wasn't even a question so much as a demand, a surely foolhardy mistake from a woman who was surrounded by enemies.

This was not Tova. Not Tova. Damn it all, why was he making her wait? Kiriko shook her head, a smooth jerk that caused her hair to whip back from her eyes and clear her line of vision. She didn't have time for this... for whatever this was. Pleasantries. The welcome guard. Whatever was happening.

Her head felt full, with the buzzing of a million lazy bees. Stuffed like a bag full of cotton. Her thoughts moved sluggishly in the tense atmosphere, synapses firing slowly at best. Things should have been simple.

Get to Hueco Mundo.

Find Tova.

The end.

That was it. The whole story. She didn't want any more time to elapse. Didn't want to risk any chance of changing her mind. Of Hahaue intervening again. Of Aneue rising to the newest challenge. Of whatever it was that had occurred with Fujikagi to happen once more.

Hands clenching with the ungodly strain she felt internally, Kiriko slowly exhaled and came to her decision. She had no way of defeating this woman before her. That alone was clear in one glance. But if she stood here long enough perhaps Tova would stop messing around and get over here. That, or she could get this girl to get him for her. In either case, the Captain needed the goodwill of this Arrancar. And she wasn't so far gone not to miss the fact that the woman hadn't outright attacked her or even approached an invader in an aggressive or defensive manner. That was a good start, tedious though it may be.

“I am here for Tova. I must speak with him,” the intensity of her words disturbed her, but not enough to show on her face. She needed him. Needed him like she'd never needed anyone else before. Would it always happen like this? One more cycle after another of her realizing over and over again what a child she was? Her tiny little hands grasping for more and more and more only to be rebuked by the world? Damn it all. Damn it all.

But maybe... maybe that was just what she deserved, huh? That tiny voice in the back of her head was all her own making, and unlike Hahaue or Aneue it was one that Kiriko agreed with entirely. She quietly eased up on the rigid tension, the ramrod frission within her stomach, as Kiriko smiled a dark and deadly inward grin. Yes. Yes. That was it. All of this was what she deserved. It hurt, but that was good. Because if there was no pain then it wasn't really penance, now was it?

“My Lieutenant can handle the Second while I am busy,” she offered up in an attempt to be appeasing, to carry the conversation and ingratiate herself into the pink-haired behemoths good-graces. Her casual confidence fit the lackadaisical sentence. No matter how they had parted, Kiriko knew that Fukikagi was a fine leader and would do whatever it took in her absence. 

WC: 651 | GP: 13 | Total GP: 26

Dead. The word hit her like the collapse of a skyscraper and she was at ground zero. All around her she could feel the iron girders and cement pylons of her reality shattering until only twisted and charred remains were left.

Dead...

Dead?

Dead.

Somewhere far away the delirious cackling of Aneue pricked at her control.

Thousands of emotions fluttered to life within Kiriko's weak flesh. Disbelief. Refusal. Pain. Anger. Despair. The flashes shifted so swiftly that she felt seared inside, all the moisture of her body evaporating so that what was left was a porcelain veneer. Smooth as alabaster and twice as cold.

Tova was dead. The man that she hated. The man that she loved. The man that had saved and doomed her in one fell swoop. Why did it surprise her so? Hadn't everyone in this world always left her behind? It was just another part of the story. Just another empty room. So what if she needed him? So what if she relied on him? So what if she cared for him? It hadn't been mutual. She'd known that even in the depths of her maniacal oblivion. And like so much else in her life, those relationships, those bonds, were the weakness of her heart.

Something tugged at her then and there. Something ugly and sharp and vicious but all too bubbly to ignore. Her eyes clenched shut, her throat clamped tight, trying to hold it back. But it came nonetheless, and suddenly Kiriko was giggling. A whispery shuddery noise that soon unfolded into all out laughter. Dead. Of course. And why not? Why wouldn't the last piece of stability in her life just up and die on her? Why wouldn't the one person she thought she could run to disappear without a word to her? Why had she ever expected anything different? Anything less from this world that sought to punish her for the crime of being born. Of coming into being coated in blood?

The laughter cut off abruptly and Kiriko's eyes widened, the first appearance of pain flitting across her tightly controlled features before disappearing. “I needed him...” she whispered, the vulnerable admittance stabbing into her chest even as she exposed her throat with the words. Kiriko hated being weak. She hated everything. Most of all though, she hated herself. For being the type of person who needed others. For being the type of person who broiled in darkness. In despair and hatred and destruction.

Kiriko knew she should have been paying better attention to the pink haired girl, to her nonchalant speech, but the words rolled around like marbles on a field and only the shiniest ones pierced the numb fog that surrounded her pain.

“Severance...” That wasn't a name... was it? Severance. It rhymed with deliverance. She had to know. It was stupid. Kiriko already realized she was losing control. Losing her self-preservation, her self-respect. But she had to know. If Tova was dead, then so were her dreams. Her hopes. And yet...

Was this just another one of his great games? Setting her out on a path and orchestrating the ending from beyond? Severance... “Why is that your name?”

WC: 529 | GP: 10 | Total GP: 36

The reason. The solution. It couldn't be that simple. It couldn't, could it? Kiriko had come all this way for Tova, believing in his ability to warp reality. To rip and rend at the laws of their universe like the King that he was. But here was this girl, Severance, calling herself Queen. Was she really on the same level as Tova? An insidious little hiccup pushed it further – could it be that she was she even better then Tova? After all, it was Severance who stood in front of Kiriko now when Tova had given up the fight and died.

Damn it all. Was Kiriko the one lagging so far behind everyone else? Why? What was the difference between herself and this tiny little girl? The woman certainly didn't look strong. But what she lacked in physicality she more then made up for in feeling. That radiating miasma of reiatsu that reminded Kiriko so strongly of something. Someone. A jolt raced up her spine as she realized the half reflected remembrance. It felt like Jomyaku-taichou.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Why was she simply standing still while other people ran by her? Why was it that Kiriko was the one frozen in a plateau of power while the rest of the world crescendoed around her? If even Tova could die. If even gods could topple. Then where was her security? Where was her determination to see the new world come about?

Her jaw ached from the bitter tears she was holding back and it hurt to loosen it just enough so that she could speak, one bone-chillingly pathetic entreaty, “You can take away love? Can you...” she paused, her stomach flipping up and down. This was the moment. The moment of truth. There was no turning back. Resolutely Kiriko steeled her spine and stared straight ahead, filling her voice with all of the iron that remained within.

“Can you sever a heart?”

What was it that Fujikagi had said to her? You can't remove your humanity? Your womanhood? Your heart? Wasn't it funny, but proving him wrong seemed to ring dully now that she was certain. As if the very act of trying to show he was incorrect was no longer very desirous. She had her own justifications now. Her own will.

“Kiriko, Kiriko, what are you trying to do?” Hahaue, who had remained silent thus far, broke in with a shocked gasp. The horror in those words was plain for even Kiriko's stunted inner ear to perceive.

The levity from before compressed into a tight ball in her chest, and Kiriko felt the corners of her lips turn upward in a faint smile. “I don't need you, Hahaue. You are not my Mother. Aneue is not my Sister,” it seemed so perfect when she said it, so precious and serene.

“Kiriko! What are you saying? We are a part of you. We complete you. Without us you would be broken,” it was the first time Hahaue had ever raised her voice, but even in yelling the Inner Hollow managed to sound manicured and in control.

Kiriko shook her head, her eyes gleaming. “I'm afraid you're incorrect, Hahaue. What you call broken, I'd rather think of as flawless. I'm not breaking. It's surgery. You are no longer required here, so I will excise you from my soul. After – well, after you cancerous growths are gone then I will truly be able to be myself.”

WC: 576 | GP: 11 | Total GP: 47

Her eyes narrowed. Was she being played with? As much as Kiriko wanted to believe that Severance could do what she'd said she could, she also had to wonder at why the woman was offering such a thing so freely. Figuratively and literally...

“Kiriko!” Hahaue made another attempt at shaking her from her reverie. “Is that what you want? To be unfeeling? To be 'cold and careless', 'free from pain'? Is it?”

Humming noncommittally, Kiriko was paying far more attention to the Queen then her own inner personalities but she was rocked back into reality as the unheard sound of Aneue reverberated with stinging precision, “Of course that's what she wants, you dolt. Imoutou has always been a poor little baby, trying to run away from the pain. It's because she's a coward, obviously!”

In less then a second her emotions suddenly flooded back inward, reversing their outward pull until she was seething and bearing her teeth in a snarl of rage. “Says the bitch who can't even come when I need her! Aneue, you're a fool! You think you can control me with your petty insults now? With putting me down and trying to make me feel like the weak one? It won't work. Not now, not ever. You're over. Dead. Gone. I meant what I said before, I don't need you two anymore.” As she said it she realized it was the honest to goodness truth. Kiriko didn't need them. At all. What were they but two weights around her neck, always dragging her one way or the other? Never actually helping at all.

Aneue hissed like water hitting hot oil, but Kiriko waved one hand in an imperious motion. “It's done, get over it already. I don't need you and I certainly don't want you. I will be better of without you. It's not about being unfeeling, about removing my emotions. It's about removing the weak parts of myself. I will keep all the rest, all that is useful to me. Don't worry, I will survive without your help. I never needed you anyway.”

The Zanpakutou spirit let out a noise like a boiling tea kettle and suddenly charged, her boney hand raised up like the great claw of a viscous animal. Kiriko had always been afraid of the sword spirit. Cowed by her power, her confidence, her assurance, but she no longer felt beholden to the skeletal copy of herself. Almost without realizing it she had bucked the hold that Aneue had had over her. She wasn't afraid anymore. And she wasn't the little sister.

With one harsh shove Kiriko slammed her hand into the face of Aneue, her fingers smoking as the flesh side of the Zanpakutou spirit began to burn as purple flames lapped all around her. “You never did think much of Shunko...” Kiriko spoke conversationally as Aneue shrieked, before flexing her grip and watching as the skull in her hands shattered. Tossing the rest of the body back, she stepped away with an effortless sigh. Already a weight had been lifted, even knowing that Aneue would repair herself and be back in time.

Hahaue stood in the corner, her arms wide and sleeves trailing in what should have been a placating gesture. Instead it just made Kiriko hate her more. Those glossy black eyes glistened with unshed tears, so beautifully held back. “Kiriko, please, listen to me. You need not do this. No one is forcing you.” It was the same old diatribe, but this time the words carried with them no great relevation. Just a silent leaden step forward as Kiriko nodded.

“I know. No one has ever forced me into anything. It is my choice, and I am choosing to rid myself of you two.” The sword that was in her hands came from somewhere deep within, and with a jerky thud she slammed the blade hilt-deep into Hahaue's heart. Holding her body up close to the Inner Hollow, she watched as the light faded from the woman's coal eyes. “Goodbye, Hahaue. Thank you for trying.”

The Hollow sagged in her hold, her hands clutched tight around Kiriko's shoulders as the woman gave her last ounce of energy in order to press bloodied lips to Kiriko's forehead.

She let the body drop to her feet, a smear of red in her mental world. The time that she'd bought wouldn't be much, they were both too powerful to destroy just by attacking them here. Kiriko blinked away the inner scene just as Amaya began to count. Raising a hand, she wiped her forehead, but the fingers came away clean just as she'd imagined they would.

Whatever.

“I want you to cut out my Zanpakutou Spirit and Inner Hollow. Sever them.” No words she had ever spoken before had felt so right. Chinda Kiriko had never felt more certain in her life. 

WC: 810 | GP: 16 | Total GP: 63