Moonlight Sonata [Mazeura]

The mortal plane was a truly beautiful place. Actually, it was a culmination of countless beautiful places. There were cities bustling with life and the makings of human ingenuity, oceans with nothing but water as far as the eye could see, deserts that resembled Hueco Mundo, beaches, which seemed to be a meeting of desert and ocean, plains of grass spanning miles, and forests that were filled with trees made from wood rather than quartz. There were many places in the human world one could go to be alone, but by chance Mazeura had chosen a forest in Japan. Actually he had chosen to go to Mt. Fuji, and meditate at the top. After a few hours of that however he had not found the peace he wanted and started walking. That had been days ago, and the arrancar was still walking. He was beginning to think that he would never find the peace he sought. How could he when he was trying to talk himself into essentially committing suicide?

“Help me.”

He stopped.

“Help me. Please.”

The voice was human, female, and young. Now that he was still Mazeura could smell the desperation in the air. He followed the smell into a grove which was filled with boulders of varying shapes and sizes. A light mist had condensed in the area, and gave it a haunting atmosphere, making the stones look like ghosts, and the trees like monsters.

“Please. Someone. Please.”

And it was there, leaning up against one of the many boulders, that Mazeura found a plus. A young Japanese woman, maybe twenty, probably younger, wearing a white kimono. She looked up at his approach, her tear-streaked face lighting up as if he were an angel rather than a demon, and his own troubles suddenly seemed woefully insignificant when he saw that her soul chain had corroded to the point that there were only five links left. Mazeura couldn’t imagine how long the soul must have been trapped there for it to have gotten to that state, but that begged the question…

“Why are you here?” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. Her face went from hopeful shock to miserable despair in an instant and the tears returned with the fury of a tsunami.

“It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know he was Yakuza! What could I do! He tried to… my sister… he. He. I didn’t know! I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I didn’t…” While she was ranting Mazeura suddenly realized that her body was nowhere to be seen. A rectangular indent in the dirt told him all he needed to know about how she had wound up there, and he kicked himself for not noticing the obvious shallow grave before asking her the painful question. Realizing that she was still rambling and crying Mazeura put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She stopped immediately, but he had no idea where to go from there.

“You… you’re a shinigami right? Come to take me away to heaven?” The statement hit him like a straight gut-punch from Souta.

“No. I’m… something else.” What could he say? That he was a soul eating arrancar, who could do nothing to help her except consume her before she turned?

“Oh. Well… you can still help me? Right?” The look of hope on her face was more than he could bear. He had to do something to help her, but what? He wasn’t a shinigami, not yet, he couldn’t perform konso. There was nothing he could do except… he… he could eat her. It would be horrible but, if he did, then when he was purified she would be too. The logic was sound and yet… the idea of it was horrifying. Mazeura had never eaten an innocent soul before, and he didn’t want to start now, but what alternative did he have?

Luckily he was saved from the decision by the sound of another body crashing through the tree line and into the grove. It was a shinigami! A young woman, not much older than the plus in front of him, but there was something very wrong with her. She didn’t spare a glance at either the plus or the arrancar right in front of her, instead stumbling to a boulder and slumping to the ground in an exhausted panic.

“No, you can’t have it.”

Was she talking to him? Was she talking about the plus? Had she sensed the arrancar so close to the plus soul and exhausted herself trying to stop him from eating her?

“Uh, n-no I…” He started to explain himself, but she cut him off, still not even seeming to realize he was there. It was at that point that he started to get worried. Then he saw the tears and he knew something was wrong. They were white, like a hollow’s mask. And just like the mask was starting to form over her face, hollow reiatsu was starting to overcome her shinigami reiatsu. That was definitely not normal.

“Shinigami!” The plus was momentarily forgotten as he rushed over and grabbed her shoulders. It was really dumb of him to do, putting his hands on a shinigami that was obviously having some sort of mental breakdown, but what else was he to do? He had no idea how to stop whatever was happening to her, and besides, the worst that could happen was her purifying him right?

“Shinigami, what is wrong with you?” He asked with the calmest voice he could muster.

WC:922

GP:18

Nagisa’s head felt as if it was about to burst. Her heart beat seemed irregular and every so often it caused a searing pain to course through her veins. The woman struggled for breath, desperately trying to focus on something, anything, that would save her from that hell. However, the Pale Lady would not subside. The lake that was Nagisa’s Inner World was ravaged by storm and tide. Miko…

It was true that ever since she had obtained Bankai Nagi had communicated less and less with her spirit, had found that she simply had not needed to as they both had reached a level of understanding that transcended the need for talks at the lake. It was as if the Spirit had become such a part of Nagisa that, the lesson learned, Miko had allowed herself to gradually return to become part of the whole again; the only exceptions to that had been the moments when the Hollow had first surfaced, and yet, as things went downhill faster and faster she was nowhere in sight. What had happened to her?

Nagisa gritted her teeth. It seemed like she could not rely on Miko to save her – and had she not said she would take more responsibility to begin with? No, the Chinda growled in a low voice and fought back against wind and waves with her own storm. She was thankful for all that Miko had done, but in the end it was Nagisa who called the shots. And just as that was a truth that described her relationship with the spirit, so would it become the rule for the Pale Lady. Yes, the woman too had worked again and again to keep Nagisa alive, yet it had been more to save herself than the Shinigami. Nagisa could respect that power, but she would not let herself be bullied out of existence. Not after having learned over multiple, often painful, years that does want to live.

O, you’ll be alive,

“NO!”

A small outburst of Reiatsu accompanied the woman’s yell – an energy signature that was no longer merely Shinigami though – and for a moment the world stood still as Nagisa found herself in the eye of the storm. Then it all collapsed and there was silence, albeit one that felt tenuous and as if the storm could be just easily be flicked back on.

Only now did the Chinda have time to become aware of her surroundings. Still she held on to the bolder with one hand yet her knees were only barely shaking at this point. There still was a feverish expression to her red eyes that gave away her weariness, but, at least for now, Nagisa was in charge.

“A Hollow,” she mumbled as her vision focused on the man, enemy, who stood far too close for comfort. Only a dozen yards or more separated the two arch-enemies, and the monster was even standing close to a lost soul, no doubt about to feed on it, no matter how placate and sophisticated his expression. His built…is built was much more honest. Towering an entire feet over her and far eclipsing her in weight it was clear that the Arrancar was used to a life of strife. His short spiky hair was reminiscent of a shark’s teeth, veins seemed to bulge beneath muscles that would have made even Daisuke look twice; square jaw, mean eyes – definitely the look of a thug and fighter.

Nagisa pulled up to her full height, tall for a woman, but perhaps just a thin reed to the Arrancar, and concentrated on his Reiatsu in an attempt to discern whom she would have to deal with. It was akin to a faint blue, perhaps flames, but right now they seemed almost cool, calm.  If it came to blows it would not be pretty, that much was for sure. Yet, seeing him near the innocent soul Nagisa was reminded of her duty. And at the end of the day, after all she had done in the past day, what would happen to her if she lost that facet of herself?

“Step away from the soul!”

There was a decisiveness in her voice that could not be argued with, and only a hint of the pressure she felt had found its way into the command – it seemed like having served as Vice-Captain had really let her mature somewhat.

“Stay away and nobody needs to come to harm.”

Though whether the weakened woman could truly follow up on her threats was questionable at best, her chest heaving heavily as she drew breath.

”What’s wrong with you?”

A simple question that was strangely rich in concern, at least to Nagisa’s ears, and although it had been voiced by an enemy the Chinda could barely keep the tremble out of her lip. All she wanted to do was fall to her nice and cry out: I DON’T KNOW! Instead though her hand found its way to the hilt of her sword, as if by gripping it she could draw on another well of strength.

“I –,“ she began and took a step forward, pushing herself off of the boulder.

“I –,“ a sudden wave of nausea hit her, followed by the feeling as if her head had been hit by a mace, sending the young woman staggering backwards where she hit the boulders and slowly slumped to the ground. 

“I don’t know,” she finally confessed, more to herself than to him, in a moment of weakness.

953/50=19; 34

After a moment the shinigami seemed to recover some of her sanity, at least enough to confidently tell him to “step away from the soul” as was her duty. Unfortunately, he could not comply while she was like that. Mazeura didn’t know what exactly was happening, but it clearly involved hollow reiatsu consuming her shinigami reiatsu. If he had to guess, he would say that some sort of parasitic hollow was trying to take over her body, and if that was the case, he couldn’t risk letting her anywhere near the soul. First and foremost he needed her to answer his question, he needed to know what was wrong with her.

Her facade of strength began to crumble as soon as he asked. The poor girl had clearly been through a lot, and having an arrancar of all things show concern for her wellbeing was apparently enough to make her break down completely. She was tired, she was beyond stressed, and she was sick, in some form or another. Of course there was always the possibility that the source of that hollow reiatsu was trying to fool him into lowering his guard, but he somewhat doubted that. Even so, he decided it would be best to keep her and the plus soul apart for the moment.

Remembering the ghost, Mazeura looked over his shoulder at the very picture of confusion. The poor girl had no idea what was going on, or if there was anything that she could, or should do. More importantly however was her chain, which had only a handful of links remaining.

“Ma’am, how long has it been since the last time the chain ate itself?” He asked.

“U-uh, I. A-about an hour?” She answered, looking even more perplexed than ever, clearly wondering what her chain had to do with the matter at hand. That was very bad. It wouldn’t be long before it happened again, and this might be the last time. In short, they might have had a matter of minutes before the plus became a hollow. Clearly, drastic measures would have to be taken.

“Miss Shinigami.” Mazeura turned back to the broken girl. “I want to help you. I do. But there is one here whose time is short. I do not know what is wrong with you, but anything that has your reiatsu swallowed by that of a hollow is… frankly, not to be trusted. Would it be possible…” he asked as politely, kindly, and carefully as he possibly could. “…for an arrancar to perform konso with your zanpakuto?” It was a risky question to ask at all. There were a million things that could go wrong with his plan. The shinigami might not trust him, and attack him outright. Mazeura’s own hollow soul might corrupt the ritual, or even the sword itself. The zanpakuto could even be the source of the shinigami’s problem. However, there were only two alternatives that he could think of. One was to allow the shinigami to perform the konso, and hope that everything went well and that the hollow influence didn’t consume them both. The other was for Mazeura to consume the plus, and store her soul until he could be purified. All in all, if it would work, Mazeura performing the konso was the best way to go. Of course, that was a pretty big IF.

WC:560

GP:11

TGP:29