So Long Sentiment [Closed; Nanami]

It'd been a hell of a week for Nanami. Beginning with the simplest and most mundane of concerns she'd finally decided to close up her bookstore, with her being in chains within a few weeks time she didn't think the business would operate well without an owner. It had always been her dream to live some quiet life on the remote edge of the world, and the standard advice rang in her head, location location location. She knew that kind of life wasn't for her, no wonder she set her shop up in the center of chaos.

Where else in the world should an ex-SHinigami rogue set up aside from the one place in the world where most of his notable customers would be Shinigami? She had a good run considering, two months, throw in a couple centuries.

More pressing was the assault she suffered at the hands of a Shinigami, an incident that she did her best not to hold on to one which she inevitably still carried with her.

She wasn't certain what about it affected her so greatly, but had decided, for the moment, to settle on the feeling helplessness, and the breaking of her Zanpakuto. That moment changed everything, she'd been on a course to be forgotten, an inert soul living out her eternity on Earth, in the backdrop. Content to be forgotten. Then almost in an instant her course changed wildly. She was driven out into the night on dark impulses and crossed blades with another Shinigami.

One whom she now considered one of her closest friends.

Her Zanpakuto had been reforged in blood that night, in hers and her one-time opponents, and for the first time in 2000 years she heard the voice of her Zanpakuto. For the first time she saw her true inner world, beheld its true visage.

Things rarely surprise Nanami. She'd seen and done many things in 2000 years, but nothing really prepared her for that. She'd spent her entire 'life' selfishly, even her time spent on Earth had only been done to convince her she was better than she was. Then, suddenly, she had friends willing to lay down their lives to keep her and her secret safe. What kind of person would she be if she wasn't willing to do the same?

So she would turn herself in to the Seireitei and their 'justice'. She'd given herself a brief window to do so, so that she'd have time to arrange her affairs on Earth. Nanami had too many secrets, too many important works whether they be inventions or otherwise to simply leave them to be recovered by the Shinigami, or even worse hands. So the careful process of moving everything as quickly and quietly had begun.

She'd been working on steadily cataloging her work, making sure to mark it, and keep notes available if the day ever came where it was discovered or she release it to someone else. The kind of hasty notekeeping when you hand over a project you'd intended to be entirely private.

Late into the night she picked up the figure on the edge of her senses. A Shinigami, another one, but this was different than the others in a way she hadn't pinned down. It was moving steadily closer to.

Nanami moved quickly, moving to obscure her work elsewhere, concealed within areas that prevented any of their latent spiritual nature from being revealed. She then moved quietly out the backdoor. By this time the woman had arrived to the front of the shop. There was a closed sign, perhaps missed, but the unmistakable lights in the backrooms were on, spilling their light across the darkened front area, betraying mountains of ancient tomes loosely arranged on towering shelves.

A flurry of motion and Nanami was behind the woman, several feet behind in fact, her left hand resting carefully on the hilt of her blade. “Hello, my shop is closed for the momen-”

Nanami saw those eyes and for a moment her breath stopped short. She suddenly realized what it was she sensed that was off, those eyes were hauntingly familiar. Something in the expression that carried to the face that represented in her entire body.

She shifted back slightly, a reaction and following that reaction was another. Her blade drew her hilt an inch. Nanami’s reflexes had been trained over millenia, when one sensed hollow, one drew their blade to kill. Only the unusual nature of their meeting merited the hesitation.

“...What happened to you?” A scientist's curiosity facing the unknown.

She could sense a hint of it in this woman, faint, not always there but flickering its unusual presence. Hollow. More than that, she saw someone in the grips of a demon they could control.

Nanami could empathize with that, but that didn’t mean she could allow it any liberty.

820/16/16 GP Total

In dire need for a moment’s respite the Chinda leaned her head against the cool glass panel of the shop. Her body shivered. She was cold, exhausted and yet Nagisa dreaded rest and sleep lest Katsumi would capitalize on her moment of weakness yet again.  Softly the woman’s hand was placed against the glass, as if she was hoping that its coolness would seap through her fatigue and help her forget about it, at least for a while.

Where was she to go? What was she to do?

Back in Seryu’s house she had been consumed by indignation, by pain and the fear of loneliness and rejection. However, despite having been at the center of a storm her mind had been incredibly clear. ‘Kill the man on the picture.’ That was the message she remembered but while she had felt o so strongly about it for the past hours her rage was now beginning to settle and with the calm came doubt.

Nagisa had wanted Seryu to love her, had thought that she did, and despite the hurtful words that had escalated the situation, was it not childish jealousy at its core? A pained smile crossed the Chinda’s face. Was she really that pathetic?

’tis not about jealousy, my dear, it is about you. About Nagisa. A sultry voice rose from the depths of her conscious but the Chinda did not even have the strength to fight it. Silent tears ran down her face.

You were a poor child, a modest girl, content with putting the needs of others before yours. It was what you presumed Kiriko would do. However, you learned that you knew your sister less than well, did you not? Nagisa felt as if a pale ghost began to hover behind her, edging closer before it came to a halt, resting at her back as if in a soft embrace. The Chinda suppressed a sob and froze in place, hoping perhaps in a naïve way that she could make the feeling go away if she pretended it wasn’t there. It was of no use.

For once in your life you really wanted something,

Nagisa heaved, struggled for breath and shook her head wildly. 

I know you like to share,

Seryu. Her friend. What had she done to her!? Was she alive? Was she well?

And would she ever be able to forgive Nagisa for what she – no, Katsumi, or…not? – had done?

Don’t plague yourself with such questions, Nagisa. Come, rest here in the comfort of the lake and let me…

“No!”

Fighting for air Nagisa filled her lungs with the desperation of a drowning man. Wide eyed she stared at the polished glass of the shop’s window and was mortified by her own reflection. Half of her face was hidden beneath a bone white mask that showed a wicked grin, the red eye gleaming.

“No!”

The Chinda raised her hand to smash the panel but her body froze when she, uncharacteristically late, became aware of the presense of another reaper.

It was a beautiful woman of average height with long white hair. Seryu!? Nagisa’s heart skipped a beat and her right hand began to quiver, but then, at last, her vision cleared from the last of her tears and she was able to see the Shinigami for who she was. Despite the superficial resemblance this woman differed from Seryu in multiple ways. For one her body was lithe with feline grace, unlike the Akamine who spouted a volutous built. Brown eyes stared at the Chinda with wariness, giving Nagi the impression that she was seized up for friend or foe.

The woman’s Reiatsu felt…like the sky, no, the ocean. It was vast with depths that seemed to hide centuries of experience. There was resoluteness in that spiritual signature that spoke of an iron will, of honor and discipline, but Nagisa also thought to sense a callous distance, as if the woman before her lived removed from the world. She was distinctly Shinigami, but who was she? And which division did she belong to? Had Nagisa’s actions caught up with her at last?

“Hello, my shop – “

Her shop? The bookshop? The Chinda almost sighed in relief. Whoever that stranger was – or had been – she could not be with the Gotei if she had a shop here. Such things were forbidden.

”…What happened to you?”

It was a simple question, one that seemed to echo through the empty streets and reverberate through Nagisa’s entire sense of self.

“What indeed,” she whispered through cracked lips.

“I received an unwanted gift, found a piece of myself I could have done without and now…now I am at my wits end.” A slender hand ran through thick raven hair. “I am sick and losing control.” Differently colored eyes looked everywhere in their search for answers. “But how can you remain in control when you’re not even sure you were in charge to begin with?”

Nagisa looked at the stranger with eyes reddened by tears and filled with desperation.

“Whom do you turn to if your sister denies your existence, the man whom you looked up to is a spider in his web, your lover a whore that ruins your life and your friends too lost or innocent to even glimpse at what’s going on.”

The Chinda’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground, staring at the other woman with wet cheeks that glistered in the moonlight.

“Whom do you turn to if there is ceaseless talking in your head but your zanpakutou remains silent?

How can you help yourself, if you don’t know who you are anymore?”

1033/50= 20;45

Nanami stared hard into the face that stared back at her as she asked her question, searching for signs of the thing that she knew was in this young woman, this stranger. A Shinigami infected by the reiatsu of a Hollow. Such a thing couldn't be possible, shouldn't be possible but she knew it was. She didn't believe this was any work of the Seireitei, which meant this woman was rogue? Considering circumstances that hypothesis did little to relieve her. Nanami had long since adjusted to the fear of discovery since she had regained her power.

What set her nerves on edge was being faced with a Shinigami that seemed to carry the infection of a hollow with them, but not in the sense of the virus which it normally was. She'd seen human souls infected and turned, that was easily a viral encounter. When a Shinigami was devoured, it was digested, its soul made like food for the Hollow's body.

This was a parasite, living in a host. At any moment might it burst forth, consuming its host? What kind of creature would exist in her place then.

I must kill it.

Her head pounded for a moment, the natural reflex of her body when it attempted to subdue the dark instincts inside. She let out a breath, the woman was speaking to her, answering the question, in a sense. Her voice betrayed a fatigue that painted a much different picture than the sinister science experiment gone horribly wrong she had begun building in her mind.

An unwanted gift, a piece of herself? Nanami felt her grip tighten. She watched the young woman run a hand through her hair. Her eyes were frantic, wild, perhaps even a touch mad. Was this what it was like to be a soul in the grips of the horrific hollow-nature? She couldn't imagine.

“But how can you remain in control when you’re not even sure you were in charge to begin with?”

Nanami knew that feeling, in fact, she had begun feeling an unsettling feeling deep inside her gut the moment she'd met this woman. A feeling that went far beyond the faint signature of Hollowed energy. Nanami was looked upon with a tearful expression and a nagging sense at her emotions. The young woman had begun pouring forth her heart it seemed, to a total stranger.

Nanami shivered, she could feel it stirring. Those dark desires, that dark contempt for the weak, for the emotionally damaged, for the ones too weak to keep moving. A contempt easily levelled towards herself, which was largely the point. It was like staring into a mirror reflecting the things she hated to see in herself.

She didn't want to be the kind of person who despised others for their weakness. She didn't want these dark desires, but she had them. She could only hope than when it came to a head that the part of her that aspired to be better was stronger than the side of her that sought to to drag her far into the darkness that she knew her soul was capable of.

The young woman sank to her knees with wet cheeks and Nanami's hand released the hilt of her blade.

"How can you help yourself, if you don’t know who you are anymore?”

Nanami's hand came like a viper's strike, the back of her right hand along with knuckles struck hard against the side of her face. It was a blow held back, not that she was certain she could even hurt the woman. The blow wasn't one to knock teeth, or draw blood, it glanced off the ear to get the ringing sensation, perhaps a sharp hiss of pain but little more.

Nanami had perfected the technique when she taught the mewling trainee's in her time at the Seireitei.

The motion had been following by a hand snatching out to grip the front of the Young Woman's robes, hauling her to her feet and was ended with a quick shove to push her back against the front of the shop.

"You do not know who you are?" Nanami hissed, a low tone devoid of any soft gentleness of her previous statement.

There was a sudden hiss of steel as Nanami's Zanpakuto was drawn.

I want to kill her.

The blade did not go within three inches of her neck. "You are a Shinigami. Infected by the energy of a Hollow. Do you have a name? Does your Zanpakuto? Can you stand? Can you walk? Can you fight?"

Nanami had never seen anything like this creature, every ounce of her being called for her to kill it. To undo what should never have been done, but this weakness she could not abide.

"If you lack the strength to keep going forward then all you need do is draw your blade and fall on it!"

She let out a breath, it came out as a hiss.

"And if you cannot find it in you to do that, then I will be happy to cut that pretty little head off your shoulders and correct whatever twisted mistake created you."

Nanami's blade slashed suddenly, through air such that it rested, still held, at her side but cut nothing.

"Or. You can decide, perhaps that's something worth continuing on for? If you do not have the strength for that, you will be consumed by that monster. I have not decided if I will allow you to live, but I will certainly cut you down where you stand if I believe for a moment you are so pathetic as to actually allow such a thing dominion over your soul!"

"You are a Shinigami! If you cannot hear the voice of your Zanpakuto, it is because you are not listening! If it cannot hear you, then are not calling out to it loudly enough! If you tire of the voice in your head, then shut it up! Are words binds to your soul? Or do you choose your own path?"

Nanami's blood surged hot through her veins, she could taste copper, and visions of the beauty she could draw from this woman's blood were beyond tantalizing.

But she was not a slave to her desires. She was Nanami, she had lived 2000 years, had overcome and seen things that no other living soul could attest to, and she was the only being who decided her own fate.

"Forget your family! Forget worthless men! Faithless lovers and empty friends! Cut ties that only serve to drag you down. You exist on the edge of an eternal life and yet you talk to me about transient pain as if it matters?"

Her lips formed a tight line, the white haired Shinigami regarded the young woman. Her eyes searched her carefully, looking for something.

"You've gone to the academy, and lived a mortal life, so I can safely assume you are at least fifteen years old. Perhaps you should begin acting like a spirit whose solemn duty is the defense of this world, and not like some emotional teenaged girl."

Nanami moved to the door to her shop, deftly unlocking it before slipping the key away and opening the door, motioning inside. "Come in, I will start the kettle and we will talk." She looked into the wounded young woman's eyes trying to find her answer. She knew what it was, what that nagging emotion was. A Shinigami, struggling to deal with inner demons unsure of her place in the world. Nanami’s condemnation did not come lightly.

1252/25/41 GP Total

Nagisa had barely so much as addressed the woman whilst on her knees and with her heart laid bare that the other woman’s hand lashed out at her. Nagisa saw it coming, felt the wind on her wet cheeks that preceded the strike and could feel the sharp sting even before knuckles and face connected. The Chinda’s head jerked somewhat as a result and immediately her mind was flooded with a variety of thoughts.

Sadness – even a stranger had instinctively judged her only worthy of contempt and violence, just as Kiriko had.

Weakness – why had she not stood up for herself just now? Why was she kneeling? Where was her strength!?

Indignation lit up inside of her – who was that strange wench to hurt her when she giving her a gift by making her privy to her thoughts and feelings!?

Penance wrapped around her like a blanket – she had done wicked things and deserved punishment, did she not?

The Chinda dithered and remained on her knees to let all these sensations pass through her but was jerked to her feet by the other woman. She thought to see anger in the pale face framed by white hair and the lingering of a sneer that reminded her of how Seryu had looked at her.

No, Nagisa finally decided, it was not only anger, but something far more violent and thirsty that was held at bay. But what? And why?

The push to her chest let Nagisa stumble backwards and the glass of the window pane vibrated with a dull tone as it caught her fall. Questions were hurled at Nagi but they felt like insults and stones alike, battering her, making her feel cornered and desperate. A dangerous combination.

“Who am I?” she repated, tried to focus on the question and dismiss the eagerness with which she had wanted to draw her blade and edge a smile onto the hag’s face. “I am…” She looked around as if the answers lay on the street yet again. Why did that woman want to know anyways? And how did she know about the Hollow infection? Was she one too? A lying Shinigami that did her best to hide her monster from the world by keeping nightmares at bay, like Jasper?

“Chinda Nagisa,” she heard herself reply at last as a blade was drawn and pointed at her neck. What did the other want with that thing? Nagisa distinctly felt the growing urge in the woman to slay her, yet stance and body language did not follow suit. It was as if the woman was forcefully holding her back. Nagisa almost pitied, no, resented her for it. She did not want to fight, but this was bound to be trouble at this way, and she did not need anymore trouble. However, if the white woman attacked there at least would be a reason to take her apart.

“I know all of that,” the weak reply came at last: “I can do all of that.”

The threads continued, the sword edged closer and not for the first time the Chinda wondered if, perhaps, this is what she wanted. To have her misery ended. And yet at the same time, with the metal of the blade glistering in the artificial light from the streetlamp, Nagisa knew that this was not it. Or was it? Her head began to hurt and a pained expression dragged itself over her face. Then one of her hands rushed up and closed around the blade near her neck with a vice-like grip. Staring the other woman straight into the face the Chinda’s face contorted, half of it showing a smile, the other pain.

“Careful, Missy,” it was a voice that bore a strange echo and as if it was child’s prattle the blade was forced from Nagisa’s throat. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

The Chinda’s eyes flickered, she grunted and as quickly as the change had occurred it faded away once more. Left behind was a heavily breathing Nagisa that seemed to just have finished a sprint. The blade was free yet again too.

“You know nothing!” she exclaimed as the other woman assailed with words. “Not calling out enough, not listening hard enough. Not enough. Not enough. Not enough! Don’t you think I know!?” Her voice had risen to a shriek. “My entire life I’ve been chasing enough” – Kiriko, Jasper, Seryu – “But it’s never enough! You throw your words at me so haughtily, without having any idea what I’ve been through.” A bitter laugh escaped her throat. “It seems Notch was right, we are a conceited people.”

She spat out.

“Choose your own path…pah!”

However, over the course of her rant the white haired woman seemed to have changed. The fickle flimmer in her eyes had turned into a burning glow. Her unremarkable Reiatsu transformed into something that seemed to speak with the knowledge and authority of centuries, no, millennia.

For the first time in a long while Nagisa turned her eyes outward, shifted the focus from pitying herself to trying to understand another. She knew Shinigami could grow old, but besides Alless Aizawa she had never met anyone like that. Could this…could this really be a woman who had walked the earth since the days of yore?

Nagisa could feel Katsumi stir in her chest as the other woman spoke of severing ties to stand on her own feet – independence, relying on yourself instead of others, that was something the Inner Hollow had preached from day one. A lesson as different from what Miko had taught as night from day.

However, what reverberated with the Chinda, what occupied her mind, was not sinister presence that coiled through her soul like a parasite, but the last part of the White Woman’s sentence.

“Transient…pain.”

Never before had someone ever mentioned words like that. Tran…sient. It meant lasting for but a short while, no?

But how short was short? Anger flashed through her soul. Was she being talked won to yet again!? The last two decades of her life had been consumed by a desire for love, to be respected, to feel at home. Kiriko had denied her, Jasper had deceived her, Seryu had…had…

But what are two decades in a life that can last an eternity?

Nagisa gasped in shock.

That voice. That sweet and heavenly voice she had feared to never hear again!

“Miko,” Nagisa whispered her stare reaching a thousand yards into the distance. Miko! she yelled out in her mind and strained herself to listen but the only thing she heard was the sound of the waves of her Inner World.

What had happened to Miko? Why had she not talked in so long but chosen this very moment to reply?

Had she been unwilling, or unable?

“Transient,” the Chinda repeated as the White Woman unlocked the door to her store. She offered tea and talk, and quickly Nagisa scrambled to her feet, whincing as she hit her wounded arm at the door frame in her struggle to come in.

The entire room was lined with shelves that had all manners of books assorted. Some new, most old, and they tackled all aspects of life, from fact to fiction. Under different circumstances Nagisa would have been overjoyed at a sight like this. Tonight, however, she thought naught of it and did her best to follow the other Shinigami suit. In general though the building seemed far more spacious than it appeared on the outside, and it had the distinct smell of Kidou. Without a doubt there was much more to this shop.

“Who…are you?”

Nagisa stammered that question while one hand pressed against the cut on her shoulder. She would need a new triage soon.

Looking around the room the Chinda added another question.

“What are you?”

1309/50= 26; 71

Nanami had cooled with her final words. The burning fury that had ignited in her soul had retired into cooling embers, ready to re-ignite the flame at a moments notice. It seemed like somewhere in her almost entirely embarrassing rant she'd found something that had gotten through to her. Nanami didn't often expose herself like this, but the prospect of her pending likely execution had weighed on her, and perhaps made her a little more open than she might have otherwise been.

She reflect upon her approach.

The strike was regrettable, perhaps she'd felt it would get her attention? Cause her to listen more acutely to her words? No, those were excuses. Even now she could feel the flutter inside as her hand sent the wisps of pain from contact up through her nerves. She'd done it for entirely personal satisfaction. Pinning her against the wall had been another such drive, but only in part. She wanted the woman to lash out, for some reason Nanami needed desperately to see some kind of drive for survival. She saw something of a kind, but only faint.

At least she did not throw herself into her blade.

Nanami didn't stand much of a chance in a fight. Her healing soul was still vastly below the heights it once was, and her swordsmanship, while potent, was still held back by centuries of neglect. The alien voice that tore itself from the woman's throat was everything she'd expected it to be. That of a Hollow borne in the body of an intelligent being. The kind of malice given to a form that could resist hunger. Not one that had freed itself from hunger, but simply held it in check. It was the potential hunter lurking behind the wild animal that was the Hollow. When it had called her out, she simply found a smile curling on the edge of her lips.

How much she'd like to see that Hunter in action. It was another dark desire that she had to hold in check, almost vibrating inside her.

Then she'd drawn the blade and there it was. The woman wanted to live. It seems she was used to abusive approaches, and so Nanami decided she would try another, and in truth her rebuke ignited her anger, sparked by the frustration of her barely contained desires.

In the end it seemed it had done some good, was it the name of her Zanpakuto? Nanami knew well the struggle to be heard by their blade only hers had lasted millennia.

Transient, it stuck with the woman, Nanami noted. Though she supposed she'd been given her name, she may as well use it.

"Transient. Yes, Nagisa." Nanami wasn't much for formality, not when it didn't call for it. They'd stepped into her shop and Nanami nodded in her direction. "If you see anything you like on the shelves, let me know. I'd be happy to lend it to you," she said conversationally as she led the woman through the aisles towards the door on the back.

"My name, yes, I am sorry I did not give it to you."

She pushed open the door to the back room, revealing a small kitchen area, a single white table and stairs leading both up and downstairs.

"I am Nanami, Hideaki Nanami."

She turned on the gas of the stove and a brilliant flame ignited beneath the metal tea-pot. Paintings adorned the wall.

"I was once a Shinigami," she added to address her second question as Nanami turned to pull out a chair. "Please have a seat."

Her eyes looked over the shoulder and made a face. "I have some tools to treat that, if would let me?"

She moved over to the collection of boxes she'd been cataloguing and began to sort through one of them. "I suppose my answer did not really satisfy your question. As I said, I was a Shinigami."

She pushed open the lid and dug around inside for a moment. "300 years ago I faked my own death and left, avoiding a sentence of which I am soon returning to face." Having found what she was looking for she produced a length of bandage. "I've been living on Earth quietly since then, without my powers until very recently."

She set the wrapped bandage atop the table and moved to the hissing kettle. "You see, I was once a monster." She hoped the implicit connection she'd felt between them went unsaid. She had no intention of accusing her of anything, this was simply her story. "But unlike monsters in those stories out there," she gestured out into the entrance of the store, "I was never stopped."

She arranged two cups and poured tea into them. "Eventually I decided I didn't want to be a monster anymore, so I took it upon myself to stop." She wore a smile across her face, setting Nagisa' cup down in front of her. "I'm also a bit of a nerd." She motioned to the collection of boxes. "My little projects."

She picked up her cup and blew carefully across the surface. Too hot to drink.

"So, more importantly, what happened to you?" She mentally restrained the urge to add a 'little one'. A habit she picked up as late, it seemed. It wasn't meant to be condescending but she supposed it most certainly was.

"How did you come to get a monster inside of you?"

900/18/59 GP Total

“Hideaki Na-nami,” Nagisa repeated the name, let it roll over the tongue in an attempt to discern if she was able to associate something with it. However, try as she might she came up empty. She thought to fainly remember having read about a Nanami in the records of the Fifth, but it wasn’t exactly a rare name either.

And perhaps it wasn’t even a real name.

It would not have been the first time that under the guise of helpfulness people tried to catch Nagisa in their webs of lies and deceit in order to further goals with hollow gains.

“U-un,” the Chinda answered and slowly reached for the bloodied bandage around her upper arm. With the tips of fingers the young woman began to tug at the corner of the knot but it quickly became apparent that the fabric had crusted over with blood and now stuck to the skin. Nagisa was almost too tired to sigh. This was going to hurt.

With the flick of her wrist she ripped the dressing loose. A thin trickle of blood started where scab parted from ski, ran down the arm and made it seem as if the tattooed phoenix webt bloody tears before Nagisa wiped it away. Tipping two fingers that were coated in the soft green glow that was customary for healing Kido against the wound the blood stopped. The reast would have to be done in a more conventional way though.

The Chinda’s ears piqued up at the story that was shared. Why had Nanami ran away? And why would she choose to come back now after all this time? Three hundred years…that was triple her age! Nagisa’s head turned left and right. It seemed as if the woman had done rather well for herself.

“Monster?” suspicion and wariness fought for dominance in the Chinda’s voice, but at the same time there was a part of herself infinitely thankful to converse with a woman that did not intend to shove judements into her face that she reached for the bandage that had been prepared nonetheless.

 “What’s the connection between stopping and not having your powers?” She had asked with a naïve innocence whilst her hands and mind were busy deftly wrapping the wound, though that she might be treading on thing ice was something Nagisa became aware of right after. Quickly the Chinda pretended to busy herself with the box that had been pointed at.

“I know a lot of nerds,” the woman replied nonchalantly. “Some of my best friends are members of the Fourth and Th…third.” The Chinda came to a halt, hands hanging loosely at her side. Eventually Nagisa reached for the tea.

“My monster, hm?” gingerly Nagisa held the cup between her hands. It was a bit too hot for comfort and yet Nagi distinctly preferred it to the cold of the outside world – or to the one inside of herself.

“It started…” hesitatingly the Chinda sought for words, for an abt way to put what she had been put through. Brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes she wasn’t really surprised to find none. “Somone – or rather something – that transcends Shinigami and Hollow alike did it to me. She made me swallow blood and…” my sister tried to kill me to get to that invader but in the end I was saved by my Bankai. That was how it had been, but saying so left Nagisa with a bitter taste. As if saying out loud that Kiriko did not care was just too much.

“And soon after I began to hear this voice,” she tapped against her head and shrugged. “It started softly. Good suggestions, clear advice. Far from the crypic behavior my Spirit used to use. I was confused, but since I had recently…recently learned Bankai, I thought that perhaps I had simply discovered a second spirit inside of my soul.” A curt laugh, followed by a bitter smile. “O, how wrong I was.”

“In the beginning I thought all is well, but quickly I noticed that there was a much more…sinister”and honest “Facet of myself that this presence embodied. I tried to seal it into a zanpakutou, thought that maybe this would help me unlock its secrets, to learn to control and wield it…” Nagisa grabbed the cup so tightly that a bit of the hot liquid spilled onto her white skin, causing it to redden and burn.

“It didn’t work,” her voice conveyed the defeat she had felt in the very moment that she had realized that this presence would not bend to her will so easily – or at all. “I tried to stay away from conflict as I realized things got strange, and yet conflict sought me in turn.” A bitter smile. “It wasn’t all bad, I suppose. At times that monstrous side was even helpful. Our goals aligned, if only temporary.” Nagisa took a careful sip. “And at times she even protected me…or rather this body.”

The Chinda swallowed, tried to down the ill feelings together with the tea.

“It only got worse. I sought help but was told little besides ‘be in control’ or ‘fight’,” another hollow laugh. “As if that was so easy.” The Chinda lowered her gaze and peered at her reflection in the tea.

“At times…at times Katsumi, she,” with a slender finger Nagisa pointed at a point on her chest, half way down from her neck but still over her breasts, the same place Kyousuke had pointed. “She took over. Its hard to regain control. Especially because sometimes…” Her right hand trembled softly, prompting the Chinda to cover it with her left. “Sometimes she does exactly what I want to do, but would never do.”

Nagisa looked up, fear and a hint of tears in her differently colored eyes. “It is not a different part of me like Miko, she is me.”

Again the Chinda averted her gaze. “S-sonds…ah…” She closed her mouth and swallowed.

“Eventually things…escalated,” this was the part of the story that Nagisa loathed more than anything, for it was too recent of a wound, and too much the fault of her own stupidity. And yet, at the same time it felt good to talk about it. Sharing this with a stranger was much easier than when she had thought to talk with one of her friends. Perhaps it was beause she didn’t truly trust the latter after all. Or maybe it was just nicer…easier because Nanami and her had no prior connection.

“I snapped,” the Chinda began at last. “I told a friend something I should have never said.” The edge of her lip quivered and her voice threatened to break. “And I got served some uncomfortable truths in turn.” Nagisa blinked rapidly, trying to fight away the tears. “Katsumi took over and…and when I was back at last my friend lay in a pool of blood. Breathing, alive, I can say that for sure, even though I stood meters apart…but I…I held her arm in my hand.”

Shivering Nagisa brought the cup to her face and downed the tea despite the temperature. Despite feeling the warmth flow all the way to her guts the Chinda still felt cold.

“There was a picture,” she remembered and began to sway her body softly back and forth. “It showed my friend and someone else…and I need to find someone else to…to save my friend.” Because if that person was gone, there would no longer be a reason for Seryu and Nagisa to fight. It all could go back to the way things were. Surely it would. It just had to.

“He is here, in Japan. I think in Karakura too, so I came to search but…” Nagisa’s head wandered left and right as if in a haze and her eyes seemed cloudy. “But I haven’t found him yet…I ran into…into Hollows instead.” Both of her hands wandered up her arms so that the Chinda could pull herself into a childlike embrace.

“I don’t know how to deal. Katsumi is…so strong. And often right. I just…maybe if she…” Nagisa faltered, clearly not knowing what she wanted to say.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed. “I know what I am doing is not good, or enough, or okay…but if I don’t do anything…” Again the Chinda shuddered. Again she began to rock herself back and forth like a lost child, waiting for her mother to come to the rescue. Her mother.

Or her sister.

1415/50= 28; 99

Nanami watched the name turn yet another blank expression. How long had it been like this? How could she blame them, though, it wasn't like Nanami Hideaki was all that well known. Perhaps there was a time where the Terror of the Academy might have raised an eyebrow of acknowledgement, or the demon of soul society might have been told, but those who might've were long gone and all that was left was her. The days where someone might recall her name were ages long past.

She watched, between her work and the woman struggled with the bandage, she let out a sigh as she observed the graveness of her injuries and considered helping but did not. The woman was working on her own for it. As the bandaged was ripped free she watched the small trickle of blood run down her arm, and for a moment studied the curious tattooed phoenix. A convenient placement for an injury if ever there was one, quite dramatic. She, with little fuss moved over after she performed Kaido and opened the invention she sought and handed it over so the woman could tend to her injuries. She'd had years of hospital work in her 'life' on Earth and was no stranger to grievous injuries. A multitude of senseless wars and conflict had seen to that. These bandages were of her own design, containing in it a modest spark of Kaido they would assist in the staunching and recovery of a wound. She made little note of it, she was sure its effect would become apparent.

"Monster," she said in confirmation as she bustled here and there, preparing the tea. "The connection between stopping and my powers is the method I used to escape from the Soul Society. It was quite the convincing death, so I heard." A simple gesture, as if admitting to the highest form of treason really wasn't all the dire a thing. To Nanami, it wasn't.

"Ah, I wonder how those squads seem, probably just as they did during my time. I made my rounds through quite a few So little changes, I find, at least when it comes to the Soul Society. It's something refreshing about Earth, every decade it seems I live in a new place." Simple conversation, tea among acquaintances, that's all it really was.

She was seated now, back to the present and working on her tea carefully. The woman, it seemed, had a bit of a sadistic streak, she was running into quite a few of those when it came to tea it seemed, a distinct reminder of someone she didn't care to be reminded of.

"Hollow Blood? Interesting," She said, almost as if she'd rather a pen and paper to record scientific notes. She had the sense to be embarrassed by that impression and made to soften and just listen, letting Nagisa speak. "A voice?" She couldn't help it, but it wasn't a real question, just a note that she was listening to her.

Fascinating. Truly fascinating. How could it not be. An unstable marriage of Shinigami and Hollow into a single vessel. Two complete opposites. It was something of a horror show. Still, she was already drawing some fascinating observations from just a cursory interview of the subject.

Ah, be ashamed Nanami, she thought to herself. This is a poor girl, not a research subject. Internal admonishment did little to switch off her analytical approach but she did her best not to betray it. The last thing that she needed was to feel like she was being studied. The unsettling notion that she did her best to understand was, was this the first? How could it be? And if not, how many were there?

She remained silent, letting Nagisa speak and get it off her chest, up until the tea spilt. "Careful, please," she eyed her with great concern, not even a flinch. Was she in shock or was this merely another effect of her affliction? The woman was rash, it seemed, even before the wild emotionality of her little complication she seemed like the kind of frail person. To say she'd withheld her sanity this long was quite a feat, although she wasn't certain if she had really accomplished that.

"Conflict is the kind of companion one never leaves behind, Especially in our line of work," she said solemnly, doing a very poor job of not cutting in yet again.

She wondered if Nagisa felt some kind of kinship or appreciation for the spirit, it almost seemed certain that she did, it had a name and she used it. She didn't speak with the kind of disgust that she felt was necessary for this kind of invasion. Was it because it protected her? Nothing more than typical parasite behaviour, if the host dies it dies too. Because it acted the things she was too afraid to let herself do? Made it easier to deal with guilt if it wasn't really your fault,. but then Nanami didn't really truck with that kind of attitude.

“It is not a different part of me like Miko, she is me.”

Nanami's eyebrow raised, and twitched ever so slightly. No, she decided, hitting her would solve very little even if it would be ever so satisfying.

Inside she felt a small sense of satisfaction that wasn't entirely hers.

She went on about the escalation, of course it escalated, that's simply how these things worked. Like an addict chasing a fix, things would get worse and worse because Nanami was beginning to understand something. Nagisa was, at some level and she suspected more than not, happy with what was happening to her. The freedom, perhaps the power.

Violence, ah, delightful, her heart raced ever so slightly faster and she felt her mouth dry just a little bit. Those imperceptible changes at a biological level, could she ever control them? Probably not. "I see." Was all she said, her expression had turned cooler since they'd begun. A calm mask.

Hm. Finding someone, from a friend, and a picture. Devolving that into bloodshed.

She didn't know what to do, how often did she run into that.

"So. Please forgive me, as I recount what you have said. Please correct any misunderstandings."

Nanami should kill her, or try, this woman was clearly a danger. She possessed incredible power and only the faintest ability to control what she did with it. She had a penchant for violence and excuses to use it. A woman on a dark path littered with dangerous choices and serious consequences.

How easy it would be to condemn her. How easy it would be to say that she was more dangerous than was worth keeping her alive. She had committed crimes, and would likely commit more, so, wasn't there justice in removing her? As she looked into those strange eyes she could make out a reflection in her face. How easy was it to see the similarities.

At least Nagisa had a reason for her dark side.

"You were infected with the spiritual energy of a Hollow. Instead of Hollowfication as would normally occur, it infected you. A spiritual entity, a part of you, developed. This side represents a darkness in you, that you've never felt before, I assume. Up until this moment. Your Mr. Hyde, if you'll allow me the literary reference." It seemed surprisingly apt.

"This entity speaks to you, but more than that, it can take control in a moment of weakness, which I assume is what happened to your friend."

Nanami tapped her chin for a moment, paused, glanced at Nagisa, looked to her tea, took a sip, set it back down, exhaled, tapped her chin again then nodded.

"You did not ask me for my help, directly, but, forgive me as I am offering it anyway," she looked deep into Nagisa's eyes for a moment before looking back to her tea. "We are a lot alike, it appears. Though different roads, I understand your struggle with a dark side, and your grappling with a Zanpakuto who appears unwilling to help. In two thousand years I have only of late been able to hear its cryptic voice, though I've studied others experiences extensively in my efforts to unlock the secrets of them."

"I have only hypothesis, you are infected with a Hollow that has grown. The Soul of a Shinigami is born in duality, we are our own distinct entities, but we also possess the soul of our Zanpakuto. A distinct entity born of our own soul. They are a mentor, a friend, a guardian and ultimately a tool. They represent the spirits of our sword, our own projections."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I understand you know these things, I only bring them up because I am troubled. Your Zanpakuto is not a separate part of you, it is you, much like it seems that entity is."

She took her cup and took a slow sip before continuing.. "Why is it you seem to respect this alien presence that did that to your friend more than you respect your Zanpakuto?" She raised her hands in a diplomatic gesture. “Just what it seems to me, remember. Do you consider your Zanpakuto your ally? It appears you have been in its silence for a long time, but so rarely do I see a Zanpakuto respond to someone not properly receptive. You appear taken with this Hollow presence inside of you. Much like a Zanpakuto it has been born of your own soul. It is a reflection.”

She shrugged, “Perhaps much like a funhouse mirror, but a reflection none-the-less. You refer to it by a name, you personify it. Your first method to deal with it was not to eliminate it, but to try to control it. When it took control of you, was it during moments where you were overcome by emotion? Whether it be a great anger, or great grief? Did you wish to have the situation to resolve itself? Does part of you welcome its influence?”

“Even now, as you have come to Earth, chasing whomever it is you are chasing, do you feel, truly, that this is a plan that you are following? Or is it whatever that thing inside you wishes?”

She sighed, moving to take another sip of tea.

“A Shinigami draws true power from one thing and one thing only. Understanding. There are no easy roads to enlightenment, for some it is a very difficult road indeed. Good advice, easy things to understand, these are the tools of a snake-oil salesman. Ah yes, easy road to power, easy road to happiness, all you need do is destroy this, manipulate them, surrender, perhaps, a little more to me.”

“I’ve lived that life, and even without the cost at the end, it is not a satisfying life. One day you will wake up, and look at the great works of terror you’ve constructed, and you will be alone. But you, even worse. That spirit inside is not like a Zanpakuto, it does not seek to help you grow into the real you, it wants you to grow into it. it wants you to become a Hollow, and to that end it will draw you along with tantalizing promises, anything you’ve ever desired. It will swear to get it for you.”

“Like love?”

“But trust me, there is nothing but destruction and misery down that road.”

Nanami took a long sip of tea and set her empty cup down.

“This dark side is a part of you, someday you will need to face that and decide if what is inside that monster is something you really want inside of you, and the sooner the better.”

1904/38/87 GP Total

Nagisa knew that look on Nanami’s face. The latter did her best to hide it, but the Chinda counted too many keen researchers, healers and mad scientists amongst her friends as that she could miss a look such as the one she was given now. She could ignore it though. Forfeit the knowledge that there might be further intentions and consequences down the road for her as the result of indulging in the moment’s peace and solace of sharing her burden with someone else. It was a naïve notion, a fool’s choice perhaps even, and yet Nagisa willingly gave in, feeling just a little less lost with every sentence.

A small ‘tsk’ threatened to escape her lips as the other woman spoke about conflict – it was a truth she had learned too much about, so Nagisa pressed on and kept to her story. As she recounted details she grew, in a way, less concerned about what Hideaki was thinking and more focused on her own well being as the strangling sensation that had forced her to keep her voice shut seemed strangely lifted. The Chinda did not stop to consider why. Perhaps it was a spell, or Nanami’s aura, or something different altogether. It mattered little, what was important now was to relish the relief for as long as it lasted.

“Please do tell,” the Chinda replied when at last she had finished and Nanami moved to reiterate. “It will be good to see just how my tale seems to a stranger.”

“It is not a darkness I have never felt,” Nagisa interrupted softly. “It is much rather an expression of what I have been unable to handle. No, that is wrong too…it is…a simpler version of me. One that is not inhibited by…by concsciense.” The reference the woman ignored. She too had read the book and was not too keen on becoming the main character in such a story.

A moment of weakness.

Nagisa suppressed a sneer. That’s what it all come down to, wasn’t it? Her own weakness. Had she had the presence of mind not to engage the invader her life would have never taken this turn. If she had had the strength to go against her betters, or at least force their attention, she might have been saved by now. Alas, all of these things were in the past.

The moment Nanami offered help though a slight flutter rushed through Nagisa’s chest in the most welcome way, leaving her with a sensation she had neigh forgotten. Few, if any, had ever offered her help, even more seldom had what little she had received been given unconditionally. Wariness was the next emotion that crossed her mind. Why would Hideaki, a stranger who had already given her the light of day, go as far as to help her now? Did she too have an agenda in the end? Just like Jasper, Seryu and probably even Lyvalaea?

“I am sorry to hear your relationship to your Zanpakutou is marked by such negative experiences,” the Chinda’s voice was filled with a colder note as she had obviously taken offense at the implied rift between her sword and herself. “But Miko and I have never been that way. She has always been kind. Helpful. She saved me in my darkest hour and I wouldn’t be capable of Bankai if her and I did not share a tight bond with her.” Slowly her voice faltered, lost what little ice it had mustered.

“All the more disturbing it is that now she seldom speaks…or maybe that I seldom hear her. I know that with Bankai I gave her the promise to assume more control over my life, to show responsibility and in a way vowed to learn to love myself indepdendently from others…but she too knows, she too must know that this is different. That right now...” Vexed by her inability to bring that thought to a close the Chinda raised her hand moved it up and down as she spoke her last words, only to rest it in her lap yet again, raising it again to respond to Nanami’s explanation but the woman’s gesture kept her quiet for a moment longer.

“I think,” the Chinda finally began, trying to express what she felt clearly for the first time: “We Shinigami have a poor lot in life. We are souls perhaps even more broken and empty than Hollows themselves. We are born with a portion of ourselves missing. Even long before I enetered Soul Society and became a member of the Gotei I felt that emptiness and tried to fill it.”

“The Zanpakutou Spirit is a facet of our soul that we lack – lost perhaps during our rebirth. It is a part we don’t value in a sense, a lesson either never learned or long forgotten but necessary to live fulfilled. To be balanced in a way. It is part of what makes us-us, but by extension…by extension it could mean that once you’ve learned the lesson there would be no more need for them, would there not?”

Nagisa dismissed the thought, pushed it from her physically by placing the cup on the table, spilling a droplet of tea in the process. With a long look she witnessed how the dark liquid ran down the side of the cup, sullied the pristine white of the table and then sprat out as far as it could. Perhaps a fitting image now that she was about to talk about that other part.

“That…that Inner Hollow, she is not something I was missing. Maybe in a sense she is the opposite of Miko but definitely she is a baser form of my self. One free from inhibitions and with a moral compass so screwed it you can barely call it that to begin with. And yet she clearly has her own pattern, her own structures.” Nagisa put a finger against her lips in thought.

“I am not proud of the moments she reigned and truth be told I’d rather forget about them – am in fact for the most part. However, what little I remember clearly tells me that, despite her apparent eradic behavior, there are things she wants to do…Things that give me the idea of a pattern.” The Chinda gnawed on her lips for a moment before pressing them together firmly.

“Yes, I do call her by a name. Perhaps it shows her respect she does not deserve, but tipping around the problem, never touching on it, being too scared to assign it a name lest it become realer than before…that’s something I don’t want to do. I am not that weak.” Nagisa folded her hands. “In fact it might just be the desire to leave the behind the little girl that everybody sees me as that had me initially enthralled by her.”

“Katsumi, she is so fierce. A maverick. I can’t deny that I liked that when I first discovered her. Miko has taught me love in union. She gave me something, or rather taught me how to give something to myself that I had always craved. This, however, is different. It feels free, unhibited. In a way it is a liberation. When following Katsumi I no longer stand in anybody’s shadow, but rather cast one myself. I’ve always been ignored, but the way she wields power, my power.” Nagisa looked at her hands, formed them to fists. “It is…tempting.”

“When she first took control I was indeed in danger. In mortal danger. However, instead of turning to someone to help, even if it was Miko, which makes turning to another a strange form of working with someone else that shouldn’t be a stranger, Katsumi was so different she automatically commanded respect. Seizing control she was reckless, headstrong – and yet she moved with a grace and swagger, with panache, that I knew I could never hope to call my own.” Nagisa stared to the ground in defeat and whispered: “…so weak.” She tried to sigh.

“In a way I hate her for it. But I also admirer her. And I’m scared of her, because whatever it is that shackles me so, it obviously does not concern her in the slightest.” Her body grew tense. “I want her gone, yet the more I fight, the more I seem to become like her and that makes her stronger…it’s like whatever I do it just all eventually turns on me.” Nagisa cleared her throat, focused on what Nanami had said last.

“What did you do though to wake up? Realizing what is going on is one thing, but how do you break that cycle? Jas – others I’ve met simply said to hold out as long as I could and then some more. You’ve lived for so long, Hideaki, you must know something you can tell me.”

Nagisa was not sure what kind of words of wisdom she had expected, but that Nanami merely echoed Jasper and the others left her feeling disappointed. She too spoke of holding out and confronting that presence. But how did one even do that? How was one supposed to hold out against one’s self? This wasn’t something that a little self restrain would solve!

The Chinda’s eyes wandered aimlessly through the store.

Katsumi had never promised her anything, she then noted. The Hollow had always interfered at her own pace and with a whimsical nature much akin to the northwind.

“I know there is no easy way to fix this,” Nagisa uttered at last. “But right now it doesn’t seem like there is a way to do this at all.”

 1605/50= 32; 131

Nanami let out a sigh and raised her hands. "Let me begin by apologizing. I've been underestimating you, and speaking around you and making assumptions. As well as studying you like some sort of science experiment." She laid her cards on the table. "I am very sorry, as you may surmise, I do not get out a lot, and this represents one of the vary rare interactions I have."

She considered for a moment. "Let me preface that I speak only my thoughts, you mentioned your Zanpakuto, once obtained Bankai, I was not aware you had though I realize now you mentioned it. You spoke of a promise for you to assume more control over your life, and such, perhaps that is what she is doing. Letting you see this challenge through on your own. Maybe you rely too heavily upon it? Or perhaps that is how your spirit feels."

"Your thoughts on our lot...I never thought of it like that before. I never really had a proper spirit for me to speak with, to feel as if I had lost. I looked around those with envy, I always felt that were were lucky to have the opportunity to be guided, and grow to enlightenment with their help. That part of you that was missing, before you entered into Soul Society, perhaps that is what Miko will someday help you fill? I'm not sure that we will ever reach the stage where we would be done with them, where we would have no need. They represent the truest partners that a Shinigami will ever really know, even once we learn all there is to learn I think that we would still have a place for them like any other aspect of ourselves."

"As for the name, I can agree with that readily. I'd prefer, perhaps, a less pretty name, devil bitch, for example." Nanami said with an amused smile. "And for your weakness, consider your trials, and your age, it's pretty impressive. You are, what, easily a lieutenant on your way to captain? How many Shinigami ever hold heights you already have? Few ever achieve bankai. I am far older than you and unimaginably weaker. I think that...devil bitch merely shows you how to use what you already have, and to that end I think she's already done it. Your Zanpakuto doesn't allow you to perform any feat you aren't already capable of, and I think it works much the same. I think you need to face the parts of you she brings out that you admire and find a way to temper them. Much like your Zanpakuto there is a lesson in that, it's not losing yourself to the allure of that liberation that is the key. You stand upon a very fine wire."

"To answer your question, how did I wake up and break that cycle." She hmm'd for a moment, having spent the duration of her talking trying to figure out how she was going to answer it. "I don't like to lie, so I shall simply be honest. Jas-others was correct that's part of it, but repression only works to a point. If you don't overcome it that first taste can lead down a very dark road. For me, I still have not broken that struggle. Mine is not related to a Hollow presence, so perhaps there is some relief in conquering that in a different way, who knows, I do not." She shrugged helplessly. "So let me tell you what seems to have worked. I took stock of my life, I tried to step away from myself and look at who I was objectively, the things I'd done, the person I was and asked myself that tomorrow did I want to be that person? Then it's just working there. There is no magic trick to it, or if there is I haven't found it."

She sighed. That wasn't incredibly inspiring. "The truth is, if you like those parts of you that it brings out, if you like the confidence and liberation then either you will find a way to achieve them without her, or you will eventually slip. It isn't a matter of resisting, this isn't some kind of foreign thing trying to control your mind, just doing that isn't going to change it. It's you, right there," She gestured to her heart.

"A lot of people live with dark things inside of them, so rarely are they given a voice. Talking to you though...I'm left uncertain." She looked off towards the window for a moment. "Forgive me if this does not come across properly," she looked back to Nagisa. "This seems almost like an opportunity. If all your life you feel disrespected, looked down upon, forgotten, weak then you are given an aspect of your spirit that pushes you to conquer those things then its almost like an opportunity. An extreme version of one's Zanpakuto spirit, the trick seems to be, finding balance."

"So yes, resist, please, no more waking up with arms in your hands, but this is less about resisting and more about you, as a person, and why and how this devil bitch influences you? I'm not sure, hopefully that's helpful."

She sighed, pouring tea for herself and Nagisa if she needed it. "Who in your life makes you feel so worthless? I know I don't know you all the well, but aside from this perfectly understandable struggle, you seem like a fine woman, a powerful one at that even if you have some issues with perspective." Nanami had never met someone with such a skewed perspective of themselves and she had a feeling the Hollow had very little to do with it.

"And perhaps this is over-reaching but as a side note, if you need a place to rest, I have spare beds upstairs so feel free to head up if you get tired."

Nagisa wasn't a monster. She struggled with something deep down but she actually seemed like she was trying to improve. It'd taken centuries for Nanami to realize what she grappled with. She knew they weren't the same, they both might struggle with violence but for Nanami it was because she was a sadistic freakshow...Nagisa was at least dealing with a very literal monster inside.

Who was she to judge?

Why did she want to help her so badly though? That one was a little easier, if she could turn someone from a dark path well, that counted a little as redemption. It’d be a small drop to balance her vastly weighted scale.

1100/22/109 GP Total

A soft smile hushed over Nagisa’s lips at the much appreciated apology. “I wouldn’t come out much either if I were surrounded by these treasures,” she said to convey that the perceived sleight was in the past.

“The Bankai part,” despite the situation she was in the Chinda still managed to look embarrassed for a moment. “I am…rather young for a Shinigami, and it has never gone well for me telling people that I can do it.” Disbelief, jealousy, spite hidden under the guise of friendship. “So please forget about it…or at least keep it a secret.” She bowed contritely and then pondered Nanami’s words.

“So you suggest that, perhaps, Miko’s silence is her way of telling me to make good on the promise I gave?” Nagisa led the thumb of her right hand to her lips and bit it softly in thought. “I did rely on her a lot. More than others do with their spirit but I always took it as a sign of our resonance.” And her silence consequently as her forsaking me. Slowly the Chinda let go of her thumb. I shifted the responsibility from myself to her. “Maybe she is quiet cause I learned her lesson. Maybe because I didn’t. And maybe there is a completely different reason altogether.” Now she managed to sigh. “This…definitely put a new spin on things though.”

“Perhaps it should be I who does the pitying and counseling then,” Nagisa said with a halfhearted smile as she drank from her cup. “Not knowing your spirit…” Miko had always been there, up until now. “Are things still that way for you now though? Or have you at last made contact with that piece of your soul?”

“Devil bitch,” the Chinda almost snorted. She hadn’t exactly expected Hideaki to use a phrase like that. It was more something Seryu would say. The words that followed though brought a blush to Nagisa’s face and let her heart skip a beat. Praise. Few, if ever, had praised Nagisa for anything. Instructors, teachers, comrades – they all had taken her achievements and skill as a given based on the fact that she was Kiriko’s sister. The Chinda name…it came with advantages, but also curses. Do something well and it matters little – you’re a Chinda, these things are expected of you. Fail, and it weighs twice as heavy.

The young woman tilted her head to the side so that hair obscured her face for a moment.

Praise. It was like balsam for the soul and perhaps all she had ever wanted. From Jasper, Seryu, Lyvy…and especially Kiriko.

Now though, after all that had happened, after all she had done, it was too little too late.

It still felt good though.

“The Fifth,” she said softly, speaking more to her cup than Nanami. “Lieutenant of the Fifth.”

“Temper what you admire.” Nagisa furrowed her brow. The praise might have felt good, but this was by far the better advice. Perhaps it was true and Nagisa was merely ineffeicient – incapable – at utilizing her power and that’s what made Katsumi appear so ridiculously strong.

The Chinda cleared her throat. She was neither Miko nor Katsumi, but Nagisa. She was either and more. If she could learn what Miko had to teach, she could learn to be like Katsumi and yet herself, right?

Before the young woman could follow that thought though she found herself enthralled by Hideaki’s answer to her question. It seemd like fate conspired tirelessly against her and everything she ever did led up to one futile struggle. How disheartening.

Then again, the way Nanami found a positive spin on it was almost inspiring.

To take Katsumi as an opportunity to conquer was something that had not quite occurred to Nagisa. To make use of Katsumi, yes, to flee from her influence and fight what she evoked, certainly. But to take it all and accept it? To wear her flaws like an armor, proudly so that no one could hurt her with them? That sounded almost too simple to be true.

The part about finding balance though was true. The Chinda knew that immediately. Life was always about finding balance, and even though she had done terrible at finding it herself she recognized the need.

If Shinigami were half a soul and the Zanpakutou the piece that was missing, then how did Katsumi, the Inner Hollow, fit into it all?

Absentmindedly Nagisa held out her cup when Nanami poured new tea.

“Who makes me feel worthless?” she repeated and lowered her gaze. “I-I don’t know,” the Chinda stammered in reflex but that it was a lie was all too clear. A moment passed in which Nagisa wrestled with herself. Was this really what she felt? And when she said it out loud, would that truly bring her relif or just sound like she was pushing off responsibility – the very thing Nanami had surmised had caused Miko to fall silent?

“My sister, I suppose,” Nagi murmured after what seemed like half an eternity to her. “We wer, or rather I felt, so close to her when we were young. Then, one day, she just upped and vanished, never to be seen again in the Rukongai. Took about a decade for me to muster the courage to follow suit, to look for what I was missing.” The Chinda almost smiled at her own foolishness as she raised the cup to her lips.

“Upon my arrival I learned really quickly that no matter how good I was at something, my sister had already set a record for it – people were always pretty quick to point that out. Perhaps they thought I needed to be humbled.” Slowly Nagisa began to roll the cup through her hands. She felt cold, despite having warmed them for quite a while already. “And even when I did surpass her, people simply said ‘Naturally, she is a Chinda’ or ‘That’s Kiriko’s sister for you’. Whatever I did, it was filtered through that vicious lense. I did well? Nobody noticed. I failed? People reprimanded me twice as bad.” She shrugged. “I grew used to it quickly, but the decision, that I would only seek out my sister after having achieved something, quickly came back to bite me as I simply never did anything worth her attention. Eventually though she did notice me on her own.”

Nagisa’s face grew sour.

“When she did she was very quick to point out that even if I were her sister, I would have been better off staying far away in the Rukongai.” The woman nodded to herself in grim self pity. “My favorite sister threw everything I ever did and would do in my face, denied my existence and dared me to claim we are related.” Nagisa shrugged and added after a moment: “Wasn’t all of it though.”

“Not too long ago Seireitei was invaded by a broken being of immense power…things happened, it and I fought. I lost horribly, ended up confined and…things weren’t going well for me. My sister took the field and even though logically she was the only one who could hope to go up against it, I couldn’t help but bear the naïve hope that she did so for me. In the end she made it very clearly that she had not and tried to thrust her hand through my ribcage to get to her foe.”

Nagisa paused.

“Miko saved me.”

The Chinda leaned back, looking up at the rows of books.

“I thought I looked up to Aizawa, the Captain of the Fifth. He wasn’t exactly a good rolemodel either though and it was only after utterly screwing with the image I have had of him that he pettily tried to mask his self and plans with shallow praise.” Smacking her lips quietly so that a low tone echoed through the room Nagisa continued. “Then there was the friend that I thought I loved…” The Chinda shook her head. Angry at herself Nagisa sat up straighter and put her cup on the desk, lest she’d throw it or do something else. “I don’t get why you think I am powerful when all these people around me are just infinitely better to the point that they can’t help but treat me like a toy, and act like all I do is a child’s prattle to them.” She sighed. “You know what, I should just stop here. Even to you this must look like the pointless ramblings of a little girl.”

Nagisa blinked rapidly to fight away some tears.

“I…would love a bed though,” she said at last and rose slowly. “Thank you, Nanami. For the tea, your ear…everything. I will do my best to leave early in the morning as not to cause you further trouble.”

Turning away from the pale light the Chinda headed up the stairs, carrying a heavy heart. At the same time though it felt as if a load had fallen of her shoulders. Strangely imbalanced and yet somewhat lighter in total the young woman found her way to the correct room by elimination. Typically she would have taken great care in folding her clothes, reflecting and washing up, but not today. Today she was just thankful to not again have to spend a night in a tree.

1553/50= 31; 162

Nanami smiled. For some reason she so rarely encountered a Shinigami who didn't find some appreciation in her collected tomes. Perhaps it was something about their long lived nature. Books were, after all, some of the greatest things and possessed a great power within them. It was almost inevitable that someone would find out their worth, and at a Shinigami's long age well. Suffice to say, it was one of her more quiet pet theories. "A beautiful flower should never hide its petals," she said as it were a wise koan but speaking more spontaneously. She wasn't sure why, perhaps it was the air of aged wisdom she was trying to give off. She gave the young woman a smile, "Your secret is safe with me."

Her response to her possible revelation was simply a nod. It was up to her to figure it out, but Nanami was certain that Nagisa should have a little more faith in her companion. If nothing else she gave her a little bit more perspective and that would hopefully be enough to help her.

The snort at her choice of name for the infective Inner Hollow spirit was enough to bring a wide, if brief, grin to her face. The impact her praise on was far more than she expected, and she was starting to form a more clear picture of the poor girl. "Lieutenant of the Fifth," Nanami whistled. "Further than I ever got." She smiled brightly.

The repeated phrasing of her advice caused Nanami to nod simply. It was risky, but then, it wasn't a sure and clear road. Nanami gave this advice knowing how it could turn out. The fact is it didn't seem like the Inner Hollow was such alien presence. It seemed very much tied to the Shinigami's, at least in this case. it was very much like the Zanpakuto's spirit but darker, twisted. The antagonist to the mentor. But, Zanpakuto did fine guiding Shinigami, this presence would obviously destabilize this relationship. But what about those for whom a Zanpakuto did not serve? The meek or the weaker, could this Inner Hollow temper, under the right circumstances, a shinigami who might have been failed by their spirit? Nanami filed away her growing curiosities and lists of questions for another time.

She claimed she didn't know and Nanami replaced and incredulous stare with a sip of tea and gave the young woman a moment to reconsider her position. Maybe it was too personal, that was fine, Nanami wasn't planning to press. Nagisa seemed ready to burst open with a cry of secrets and soon her patience was rewarded. Her sister, ah. The way she proceeded to speak it seemed she were less a sister, even in the sense the Soul Society considered sibling relations and more the archetypical overbearing parent. Nanami could probably trace a stack of books a mile high on the subject. She nodded patiently, listened to her every word and took the occasional sip of tea. Nanami had never known what it was like to live in someone else's shadow, she was generally too self-obsessed with her deadly hobbies to give a fop about what anyone thought about anything. That didn't mean she couldn't sympathize with the woman. She got the feeling of trying very hard to achieve something only to find it impossible. Whether it was the bond between her and her swords spirit or the gain the love and attention that Nagisa so sorrowly yearned for.

"You poor silly girl," Nanami said affectionately. "Living an eternal life for other people...no wonder that devil bitch found purchase, I am sure that such a struggle made quite fertile soil for it to take hold." The seeds had been sown by so many in this poor woman’s life who did not appreciate the seemingly wonderful soul present.

The girl had risen up, sure that she had exhausted the inexhaustible patience of Nanami. Naname rose up as she did and moved to take her hands gently. She could see the struggle to hold back tears. Yes, she did seem like a ridiculous little girl but Nanami held nothing against her. She didn't feel pity or some kind of shame or embarrassment for her, but some strong desire welled up inside her to take care of her.

"There are no bars in life for us that we must surpass. It doesn't matter what she, your sister, thinks, or what the others think, or what I think. All that ever matters is what you think. Ignore the voices that tell you such stupid empty things like you aren't good enough. You are a beautiful young woman who has accomplished so much in such a short time. I am envious of you, of your strength and power. The only real growth you need to do is catching up and seeing who you really are."

Nanami gave her a warm smile and released her hands. "There are several rooms upstairs, take whichever you wish. I'll have breakfast in the morning ready for you if you wish to stay, I sincerely hope you know I don't mind the company. If you'd like I can also take care of your clothes for you, just leave it outside the room you choose."

Something bright and warm filled her, a feeling almost unknown to her. She let the woman upstairs and tended back to her work. Nanami had no plans of sleep tonight and would hold vigil of the young woman while she worked.

914/18/127 GP Total

It was the first night in what felt like a long time that Nagisa slept soundly. Despite all the dangers and uncertainties looming over her head like a Damocles sword the young woman had, at last, found a moment of respite within Nanami’s home. Talking to the older woman, basking in her soothing presence, drinking in her iron will that had been tempered by age, and being grounded by having someone finally skew her perception into the opposite direction to make her aware of all that she had accomplished in her young years…it was balm for her soul.

The thought of having to face off with Katsumi and perhaps having angered if not downright lost her favor with Miko still scared Nagisa, yet her fear of feelings was dissipating. Transient. That’s what Nanami had called them and upon fully realizing how vast the age discrapency was between them the young Chinda finally began to accept that there was indeed a difference between love and infatuation, even though it posed the uncomfortable question as what the relationship between her and Kiriko ought to be classified.

It will be okay.

After spending more time afraid, lonely and perhaps forgotten the thougt warmed Nagisa like a small hearth. She still didn’t know how things would end, but she was irrationally confident that not all was lost.  Thus it was with a soft smile on her lips and twitching ears that Nagi awoke to the song of birds. Gently the twirping drifted int the room, carried by a breeze, and although the sun had still not risen completely the Chinda felt rested and ready to wash up – wash up and leave. For a moment the girl debated whether she should bid her farewells or try to sneak away, lest she caused Hideaki more trouble. No, this woman had done so much for her, she deserved the courtesy.

Making her way down the stairs silently the Chinda listened for sounds and to her surprised heard someone working the kitchen already. Had Nanami not slept at all? Stepping onto the last step a little harder in order to make a sound loud enough that it would herald her coming Nagisa finally arrived at the half opened kitchen door, pushing it softly before entering.

“Good morning,” she said, unable to resist the smell of food any longer. “Have you been well?”

404/50=8; 170

Nanami hadn't slept, there was too much work to do, and aside from that there was something that made her want to keep an eye on her guest. Perhaps it was the Hollow danger that she represented but it wasn't just that. A young Shinigami, wanted by the Seireitei, driven to commit terrible acts. She wanted to make sure she was safe.

Aside from that, she had millennia of all nighters before, and enough beauty sleep for a lifetime, she was more than used to the effort. By the time the birds began to chirp, and the sun had begun to rise Nanami made her way back to the kitchen, having sorted, filed, and even shipped a great deal of her 'inventory' off during the night. The sausages hit the pan first, followed by the bacon until finally she was ready for the eggs. Simple and generic. She spiced them appropriately letting the aroma fill the air the moment they hit the food and the pan, flames licking around the edges. She liked simple, and she hoped her guest felt the same.

She could hear her waking upstairs, but appreciated the intentional heavy step before she emerged into the kitchen. Nanami turned to her and gave her a bright smile. Fatigue adorned her face but she wore it cheerily. "Good morning Nagisa, did you sleep well? And yes I am good, thank you for asking." She moved simply back to the kitchen, grabbing two plates and doling out the food, setting aside her tools and slipping off the heat as she moved to the table and set out their food along with proper utensils before snagging a seat across. "Have a seat, eat up. Have you figured out what your next move is?" she asked as she fit a mouthful of sausage and egg into her mouth.

307/6/133 GP Total

Never before outside of Seireitei had Nagisa seen such an opulent breakfast, especially not one that had been prepared for just two people. Nodding her head multiple times in thanks the Chinda allowed herself to be directed towards a seat. However, before anything else the well rested woman could not help but notice how fatigued Nanami seemed. Had she not slept at all? For a moment Nagisa was left to wonder as to the why. Perhaps the other woman did not trust her, and Nagisa could not fault her for it, but perhaps she had guarded the Chinda in her sleep.

As those thoughts began to dance with one another Nagisa directed her attention towards the plate, almost missing the crucial question Nanami posed her. For a moment the younger woman did little besides staring at the eggs and pushing a bit of sausage from one side to the other.

“I think I have to go back,” she said eventually. “What I did will always come back to haunt me, if I don’t. And no matter how much it pains me now, feelings are –“ She smiled dryly. “Transient.”

The food that had tasted so good moments ago now suddenly felt very heavy in her stomach. Just because Nagisa knew what was the right thing to do didn’t mean it made doing that easier.

“I don’t know what will happen,” she confessed. “I don’t even know what’s going on there currently. What awaits me when I am back and the like…But…I feel like I need to return. I owe a friend an apology, regardless of if she ever again thinks of me as something like that or not. And…”

Struggling for words to express how she felt the Chinda raised her fork and lowered it.

“I guess I need to owe up to who I am and what I have done.”

Nagisa sighed as if a big weight had fallen off her shoulders only to be replaced with a different one.

“What do you think I should do?”

338/50=6;  176

Nanami gave her a bright smile when she saw the concern across her face, to try to dissuade her. "Don't worry, I had a lot of work to do, and was simply working on that." She had no idea if she would accept that but Nanami let the issue lie. She wasn't eating, which Nanami could understand given the weight of the question she just posed her.

"Transient," Nanami repeated with a faint smile. It seemed the young woman had taken something from their talks which was promising. She wanted to go back, Nanami wasn't certain how she felt about that. The woman needed stability to tackle her inner-demons, would the Soul Society provide that? Or would she simply be executed for it? Nanami wasn't sure. Yes she was heading back herself to face her crimes, but that was solely because there were people other than her who needed to lie to keep it secret and she wasn't content to let them suffer for her.

"That's very brave of you," Nanami said honestly. "You are very honorable to want to do something like that." It was true, Nanami wouldn't have done it. She would have kept on marching away, found some place quiet to sort herself out, but then she was really good at running.

The fact she felt she needed to own up to who she was something Nanami took issue with. She nodded however. "You do need to own up to who you are and what you've done. Going back to Soul Society is a good way to try to repair the damage you have caused, and wanting to do so shows that you are still you more than anything else I think, take confidence that she can never stop you from being you." She was of course referring to the Devil Bitch.

"On owning it, know this. It doesn't matter what I, or they," she gestured upwards vaguely to the Soul Society, "or your sister, or your friends, or even the spirits inside you think. It really only matters what you think."

She gave the woman a warm smile. "So long as you face your demons, the manner you do it really doesn't matter. If you feel you should return home, then do so, but know that it is your choice."

She sighed, a contented sigh and took a sip of her juice. "Know that I am honored to have met you."

405/8/141 GP Total