See What I've Become [closed]

When she left him again Jian did a lot of wondering what she would be like when she got back. It felt very much like -goodbye-, with a certain ominous finality and yet it wasn't supposed to be. She left with all the same promises of her return and yet Jian couldn't shake the feeling. Was she going to return alive? Was he ever going to see her again? Was she going to be the Seryu he loved, the one inside the skin of a monster, or was it the thing he loved covering the monster. He didn't know, everytime he tried to figure it out he got one of those pounding headaches in the side of his head.

He loved her.

He wanted her to be safe.

He wanted her to be his.

He wanted to be with her.

Yet, for all the simplicity of those things it didn't really work out like that. It never worked out like that. He managed to love her just fine, oh that was never an issue. He would love her so fully and so completely if only to really hit the highest points of angsty loneliness that he loved to hate. Even if she broke his heart and left him, he'd hold a small flame in his heart for her, even if he never wanted to see her again. Sentimental.

He could never really keep her safe though. She was on the warpath, in some struggle deep inside that if he didn't know better would assume had to be hollow caused. Whether it was from her own recklessness, the same she constantly berated him about, or the dangerous life she seemed to so gleefully embrace, safety was never something he could count on.

As for her being his, he couldn't help but remain curious if he was still the only person in her life from who she sought comfort from. He didn't want to think that way but there it was, it came with the territory he guessed. He did his best not to think about it much, because it was one of those things he was helpless to change.

The last one, being with her was where all the trouble started. Ignoring the fact that the very idea of them being together was apparently a crime punishable by death she had her duty and her duty meant being away from him for long stretches of times only to meet together for brief ones. Add on to that whatever scheme she was cooking up, on top of that and it was like he was dating a ghost.

The irony wasn't lost on him.

It had been agony for awhile, but that was a long time ago. Now, it was like a flip he could switch on and off. If she was there, switch it on, fall forever in her beautiful eyes, throw himself into her warm embrace, spend every waking moment with her in bliss. But he always had to be prepared to switch it off, if even for a moment. When she left, when she turned, when she hurt him even when she didn't mean to, he braced and flipped it off. It was the only way he could keep it up. It couldn't be on all the time if she wasn't there. He couldn't spend his life pining for someone who lived a life outside of his, in a very real sense.

There wouldn't be anyone else but her, even when she wasn't there but until she was he couldn't dwell.

Better to focus on enjoying the time they did share.

It was that which brought him up to the top of the roof of one of the larger buildings in Karakura, one with only a few bare lights because it was ideal for gazing at the stars. It was Jian's simple pastimes, he wasn't sure why he felt so drawn to them but just looking at them filled him with an intense feeling of serenity.

His eyes slid shut, he didn't have to stare at them to know they were there, and as his vision turned dark the other sense opened up. The spiritual energies of Karakura opened up to him, arranged in a beautiful array of stars. Each point of light was a single being, a single entity, one whom he could identify and point to if given the effort. When it began almost a year ago it was a blinding thing, he could only through great effort discern single beings when he viewed it like this. He could see in limited distances more clearly, such as the people around him and the enemies he was fighting. Like all of his abilities, they had grown and developed over time.

He treated it like his vision but different, separate but similar and tied to the spiritual things he was experiencing. Like it was some bonus to his real body, his physical body. A -sixth- sense, vestigial. He was beginning to realize it was more than that, that his spiritual self was more than that. The sense that he used to feel the spiritual world around him were not separate of his physical body, and his physical body was not all that he was.

He was both, a physical body and a spiritual presence, his unique position as a mortal. It was the distinct thing that made him different from the Arrancar, the Hollow and the Shinigami.

So he relaxed with eyes closed and let it all in, every point of light, small and large. The spiritual sense processed more information more quickly than anything else his physical nature could. He was beginning to understand just how incredible Takua's abilities were, at least, when it came to this sort of spiritual perception. There was a long road before he could claim to be Takua's equal, that was for certain.

He'd only just begun his exercises when he felt her, and stopped cold.

There she was, his sun, returned again, only she wasn't a sun she was a shooting star exploding across the atmosphere and burning up. He could tell her presence more strongly than any other being in the entire world and even then he only barely caught her. She was in danger.

He was already in motion, he leapt from the roof of the building with such force that the concrete under his step shattered. The wind ripped and tore around him as he demanded its service. The buildings he chose as his target for each step tried to bend to the force of his next leap, but each one was left with crumbled concrete from the areas of his impact. The black cloak formed by the second step, its dark folds stretching from his shoulders down to his ankles, the hood obscuring most of his visual features. It came without hesitation, with an instant demand. This was his power now, he did not fear it and the moment it surrounded him he felt his panic and worry vanish.

The lack of emotion did nothing to blunt the clarity of his focus, instead it heightened it. Seryu.

Moments passed, he appeared at her side followed by a gale of wind that swept through the surrounding area as if to herald his inner-turmoil. He didn't waste time, she was swept up in his arms instantly.

How slick her blood. How bitter the scent in the air. How warm the blood that began to seep into his dark robes. How cold she felt in his arms. A moment's hesitation forged by uncertainty, a severe sign for a power defined by clarity.

Seryu Akamine. His love. Was going to die.

"Can you treat your wounds at your place," some magic tincture, or reiatsu based treatment. Somehow he doubted a magical bubble-bath was the answer, "Or do I need to find someone who can heal you." He spoke firm, without a sign of the chaotic emotional struggle that burned inside.

Already air was beginning to gather.

As the tears fell from her face and no one was there to wipe them away, Seryu realized how lonely she was. Throughout her life, the naive girl had always sought out the attention of others, only to find in Jian the harbour of her life. She always claimed to be independent, but deep inside she knew that her independence was a little price to pay if it could grant her a life in peace with him. Those wishes were, despite their comprehensibility, rather ridiculous and even Seryu understood that. She knew he did too, but compared to him, the snow-haired lady was almost stubborn when she had to accept those facts - because she didn’t want to.

Seryu believed that by defeating Nagisa, by resolving the problems she had created, she could prove a point to him and the rest of the world. That her hope was justified and not just some desperate craving for a person she couldn’t be with, that there was more behind the beautiful facade, that she was capable of so many things, and not just so few.

But she had failed to do so.

And the moment he appeared in front of her, embracing her ever so gently as he always did when he saw her hurt, Seryu gave in to it. Not only had the tables turned, but she’d finally become the creature he hated so much. Seryu embodied everything Jian despised about the Shinigami, and she was finally able to see why. As her bones crumbled away, she would lean carefully against him, resting her chin on his chest as she tilted her head up slightly. Her irises had become milky ever since and she could barely see the outlines of his face. “You came to see me,” she whispered softly as her right hand reached up to his face and cupped his cheek gently.

“I’m sorry,” Seryu said, wishing she was able to see his eyes one last time, “I couldn’t keep my promises.” Her hand slid down to his chest, carefully feeling for his quickened heartbeat. Her lips formed a faint smile - this was something he couldn’t hide from her. He could control his voice, his facial expressions, but not his heart. He had always been too human for that. As the air gathered around them, Seryu would gently press her hand onto his thigh and shake her head lightly. “No,” she begged and her eyes looked up to where she believed were his, “Not this time.” Regret filled her voice as she admitted that they wouldn’t be able to be with each other again.

Her hand snuck back up to his cheek, thumb searching for his lips, stroking them gently before she leaned up to kiss him. The tears continued to fall and Seryu decided to use her last moment to apologize to him. She wanted him to know that, at the very least, he had been with the same girl from the beginning to the end. That none of this was his fault but her’s, simply for not realizing who she was and what she’d become. “I’m sorry. I'm really so sorry,” she said, bringing her lips as close to his ear as possible because she’d long lost the strength to speak loudly, “For doing this to you. As a Shinigami it was my duty to protect you, but just like the Shinigami have failed to protect mankind, I have failed to do the same for you. I’ve burdened you with my mistakes, I’ve even looked down on you at times and despite being born for the sole reason to protect you, I’ve ruined your life.”

Everything Jian hated about the Shinigami was also everything she’d done to him. She failed to be his guardian and not only did she fail daily to eliminate the creatures threatening his life, she was also creating more and more of them. It didn’t matter that it was happening against her will, it didn’t matter that she tried everything to prevent this from happening and in the end even was giving her life for it. Everything that mattered was that he was in danger and she wouldn’t live long enough to see him survive or not.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, smiling a little at what she was about to say, “For wanting to be a wife to you. It was my selfish desires that lead us here, but I couldn’t help wanting what I wanted.” Her voice cracked, she paused for a moment and coughed up a little bit of blood, which she’d politely hide behind her hand. “Please know that I didn’t do it only for my own happiness. I did it because I truly believed that I could make you happy too. That a life with me could make you happy too.”

________________
801 W O R D S
16 P O S T GP
28 T O T A L GP

He arranged the facts.

If he tried to find Angeni, Seryu would die on the way.

If he took her home, there wouldn't be anything there to help her.

She was in no position to heal herself.

She was dying.

Cool and logical, that's what he needed to figure this out. Nothing was impossible while she was still drawing a breath, no matter how unlikely a positive outcome became he wouldn't stop trying.

"Please don't speak," he said softly, calm. He could feel a tremor run through his body, it almost felt like breaking. A quiet voice deep deep down echoed, please don't die, Seryu, this can't be happening, no, no, no, you can't leave me. Not like this. Please.

Of all the outcomes of their love that he braced for this was not one of them. "Of course I came to see you," he whispered. She felt his racing heart, the blood pumping adrenaline and she seemed to realize the sad truth.

"No," she whispered. Air he called to him vanished. He didn't have anywhere to go even if she did let him. He had no plan for this, only a goal, a purpose the same as it had been before. Seryu.

He shuddered as she touched his cheek, felt the control stretch to the limits and exhaled a shaky breath as tears formed and slid across his face in silent rebellion. This wasn't fair, but then it was never about fair with them. "Stop," he whispered, his calm voice wavering. It came out as a plea. His heart was breaking, he could almost feel her hands tight around it.

She ruined nothing. He set her down gently along a flat patch of ground and did his best to rally. She weakened him, drove him close to despair, and he had to think, had to figure out some way of saving her. He had to block her out.

Jian was not a healer. He did one thing. He hit things and they broke, and took hits and broke and kept going. He couldn't close these cuts, or mend these broken bones, or restore back what was ruined. He stopped talking, his lips formed a hard line and he tried desperately to shut out her bittersweet words. Every uttered syllable tore at him so deep. The energy around him faltered for a moment, the cloak threatened to shatter apart, expose him to her and he wanted to let it.

This was his last moment with her.

No.

He should be with her.

Shut up.

Not pretending reality wasn't happening.

Stop.

Cutting off the parts that made him feel.

No more.

Doesn't she deserve better in her last moments?

Jian bowed his head, took her hands in his, blood slicked and all and closed his eyes. It was over wasn't it? He could feel her weak pulse, could feel her slipping away from him.

He let go of her hands, setting them down on her chest and reached up, dropping the cloak from his head. It all came in a rush, he could feel it all, intense, hot, painful burning emotions. The horror of his sadness, of his bitter futility and anger. Every emotion held back for the moment let loose to lay waste to him. She would be gone and he would be alone. It would be over, and he would be broken.

"You look like a mess Seryu, for the first time since I've met you."

And he smiled at her weakly, taking her hand with his. One feeling outshone the rest. Love. How could he give up while she still drew breath? How could he not still try for the woman who had meant everything to him?

Healing was simple enough in theory right? He placed a hand over her stomach and let his brain work it over quickly. "Ever since I met you, you've always been so worried about me. About my recklessness, and my weakness," he said calmly, taking a moment to brush tears away from his eyes.

He moved his hand from hers after giving it a firm squeeze, and moved to stroke her cheek gently, brushing away her tears.

Spiritual energy, you let it flow into them, it was like speaking to the spirits of his world, the wind, only to get them to mend, to restore what was once there. Enough power and they could basically do it on their own right?

His hand drifted along her body, feeling the destruction. Her body was not like his, not like flesh and bone if similar. That point was the only reason she was still alive. Her body was made up of spiritual energy. So, what did that change? It should be easier right?

"Please don't apologize for letting me be strong for once. I'm here for you Seryu. I'm going to take care of you."

"No matter what."

He let out a quiet breath. Pointless. Futile. He had to admit it. He punched things. He blew up buildings. To hope that spontaneously he could discover the art of healing and do it well enough to restore wounds as great as he was the very height of arrogance. To accomplish that would be stepping beyond the realm of possibility.

What they needed was a miracle.

He took her hand again, squeezing gently hoping she could still return the gesture. If they needed a miracle, then quite simply they would have to get a miracle.

"I love you, and I always will."

His energy let out like a wave, filling the very air around them. It broke around Seryu like a wave, protecting her from the weight of it in her weakened state, and spread through the air around them, cloying thick and growing bright. To anyone with a spiritual sense it would glow like an unmistakable beacon of light. Someone would notice it. Someone would come. Someone who could help her.

It wasn't that he needed to believe in it, it wasn't out of desperation or a mad dark desire that he couldn't live with any other outcome. Seryu needed someone to come, so they would.

Simple as that, it wasn't time for them to part. Not now.

"Be strong," he whispered.

1037/20/46 GP Total

A warm smile spread across her face and she placed a finger upon his lips after he spoke to her, “Don’t tell me how to live my life,” the words barely made it out of her mouth, but she knew he’d be able to hear them. After all, Jian had always listened so carefully to everything she had to say. Sometimes he responded furiously, sometimes he’d just kiss her, sometimes he’d even leave her for a while, but he’d always hear her, always acknowledge her. Jian had always made place for her in his heart and it was in these seemingly final moments of her life, that Seryu realized how grateful she was to have met him.

Her hands slithered gently across his face, and Seryu embraced the feeling of his lips and his cheeks. It took her only a moment to realize what the wetness she could feel underneath her fingertips meant. Is he crying for me? Seryu asked herself and gathered her strength to lean up, carefully making her way all up to his face using what was left of her sense of touch, until her lips reached his cheeks and she could kiss those silly tears away. “This is the first time I see you crying,” she said gently and cupped his cheek, pulling him into another kiss, short but meaningful, “I’m a little upset I can’t see how cute you look right now,” she tried her best to sound up cheering, to make him smile again.

The worst part of this was that Seryu knew what awaited him.

Losing the core of your life, your heart and soul, the person you loved the most was something most people couldn’t recover from. Seryu herself had never truly gotten over the loss of her husband, and even after a whole century had passed, she was still looking to replace him in one way or another. Jian had long filled that gap in her heart since, but knowing what loss felt like, their relationship had been stained by Seryu’s disturbing experiences and Jian’s naivety. He knew too little and she knew too much and as much as they both had feared for their end to come, neither of them wanted to accept it.

“Speak to me a little bit,” she begged, “I want to hear your voice.” Seryu protested almost fiercely when Jian laid her down on the ground, basically freeing himself from her grab. Jian tried his best to fulfill her wishes beyond that, but being the usual moron he was, his comment about her appearance made her laugh so roughly that she ended up coughing up more blood than before. “Idiot,” her smile remained and she squeezed his hand in return.

Why couldn’t things always be like this?

Maybe without all the bruising and broken bones, just the two of them together. Seryu was heartbroken realizing that every time the two of them reunited, it was either him or her getting or being hurt. They had the unhealthiest relationship of all time, a fact not even the goddess could deny. Her smiles and little chuckles had been in vain as the mood shifted once again and Seryu couldn’t help but cry even more bitter tears when she felt what he was trying to do. “Stop that,” she whispered and placed her hand on his, gently moving it away from her body. She knew he couldn’t do it. Seryu herself couldn’t have done this. She had been in a situation like this more than once, and because of it she knew that it needed a healer on Shun’s level, at the very least, to fix what Nagisa had destroyed.

If he wanted to take care of her, he could just do that by holding her, right?

His light engulfed her and she climbed back up into his arms, pressing him into another kiss--fearing she’d leave this world any moment, there was nothing she’d miss more--before booping his nose ever so slightly and playfully as she always had done, flashing him one of her brightest smiles. “I love you too, Jian. And I want to be with you. Always and forever.”

If she survived just today, would they be able to live together in peace?

The answer was quite sobering.

Not anytime soon.

But a day in pain was worth it, if it meant she could spend only a single minute of it with him.

________________
736 W O R D S
14 P O S T GP
42 T O T A L GP

She was forcing her way up, and he knew better than to fight her so he helped her. His light scattered into the dark of the night as he swept her close to his chest and smiled helplessly as she pressed her nose gently. She was going to ruin him. He returned her kiss softly, hesitant such that if he kissed her too firmly she might break apart in her hands. It was almost true. "I'm glad, you'll have a lot of time to prove that to me," he smiled still but it wavered.

"Please though, stop talking, it can't be good for you right now, even if I love hearing your voice." Right now her voice made his heart ache, so fragile and slight. His eyes scanned around for someone, some sing of his fast approaching miracle, but found nothing. He waited.

Then waited.

And while he waited he talked to her, filled the time with his voice so she wouldn't. She needed to save her strength, what little was left.

"I've been practicing, since my time with that Hollow who attacked me, and I've been staying at your place too. I'm too scared to open any of the cupboards though." He smiled at her, her eyes unable to see him, and he did it anyway.

And waited.

"It's been lonely without you, can't you take a vacation or something? I think it'd be nice, maybe we could travel? Together this time, some place new. Just us."

And waited.

"You don't need to apologize by the way, if I'm miserable away from you, it's only because of how much I enjoy our time together."

And waited.

She was fading still, and he couldn't find words anymore. His brain refused to supply his lips with anything more to say. What could be said now? Sorry you're dying, hope you don't. The platitudes and grief that she didn't deserve to have piled on her?

Instead he looked deep into her blank eyes, leaned down, and did his best to avoid mourning her with a soft passionate kiss, holding her gently against him.

And waited.

The sun of a dying day bathed the world in red rays. A light, often described as hauntingly beautiful, set a melancholic mood as it fell upon half build houses and what was left of the old town; memories of a calamity. A stiff breeze rushed through the woods, carrying the scent of imminent rain and heralding the storm clouds to the east. The woods, typically filled with life, were eerily silent. All wildlife was overcome with a sense of dread. Something was happening. They could feel it.

A blinding light tore a rift into reality itself, birthing a heavily adorned door made from ancient wood and fashioned in a distinctly Japanese style. Slowly it began to slide to the side in the attempt to make way. However, before it had moved even more than a few inches the wood splintered and burst as something crashed into it from the other side. A tangled mess of person and debris crashed heavily onto the grass and for a moment or two the forest waited with baited breath whether that newcomer was alive or dead.

Groaning with pain and a chest that heaved heavily under strain and exhaustion Nagisa began to crawl away from the light that slowly but surely began to fade out. Then she collapsed in the darkness.

“Get up,” Nagisa whispered, her voice barely audible. “Get up.”

Tears would have run down her face, caused by sadness, sorrow and pain, but she had none left.

“Get up,” she repeated again and slowly but surely the Chinda rose. Every move she made sent a jolt of pain through her system, yet by the time she stood, leaning on a nearby tree, all of the pain had melted together into a dull throbbing Nagisa had banished into the back of her head. Two of her fingers were broken, multiple cuts and bruises littered her body, she couldn’t see from her right eye but whether that was due to blood or if she had lost the eye the woman could not tell. Much of her clothing was in tatters and under a cleaner light the sight of her marred skin would have been revolting, especially on her left leg from the shin down where it had been burned. The skin was red, blistered and flaking off, despite the amount of Kaido the woman had expended on it.

Forbidding herself to look at the wounds, lest it made them worse, Nagisa began to walk. Each step was accompanied by a wince, by pain, by the desire to lie down and die, yet the Chinda refused to give in. She was in Karakura, and there was one person she knew, someone who had helped her before. Surely she would do it again. Leaving the forest and entering the outskirts of the city Nagisa’s wounded leg gave in. She stumbled over the curb and fell hard onto the ground. There she began to sob and curled up.

“It hurts,” she whispered: “It hurts.”

Nagisa had returned to Soul Society in order to confess her sins and repent. In order to make up with her friends and seek help for this incurable malady that ailed her so. Instead Shura had attacked her viciously, reprimanded and insulted her before drawing her blade and unleashing hell. The fact that the woman she had thought to love had come at her with the intent to kill so unconditionally had cut deeper than any blade.

“What did I ever do to deserve this?”

However, Nagisa was not innocent either. Faced with the fury of the Akamine she had all too readily drawn her blade, had clashed with her and exchanged emotions in the only way the Chinda surely knew how. Seryu was still alive, right? Following the monster her former friend had unleashed upon Lyvalaea and her, Nagisa had been forced to flee after saving the other woman.

She is alive, a sultry voice whispered into the Chinda’s ear. And she will come here. Move, if you want to live.

Filled with an eerie certainty that Katsumi was right Nagisa rolled to the side. Struggling she reached up in order to use a sign post as crutch as she struggled to her feet. Breathing heavily and with sweat dripping off her brow the woman stood there for a moment, orienting herself. She was close to where she wanted to go. Hideaki would help her. Don’t rely on her. Have you learned nothing so far? the Pale Lady sounded disgusted. If you want to survive, you’ve got to do it on your own.

Too weak to argue, or even reply, the Chinda set out. Rounding the corner she came upon the glass front that marked the entrance to her friend’s layer. Forcefully Nagisa crashed into the door, splintering the glass and even though she raised her fist with the intention of knocking, she ended up smashing it completely, squeezing her broken body through what remained of the door.

Nagisa’s breath came in ragged heaps. Nobody was home, she could sense that. That was bad. That was good. She wasn’t sure.

Mumbling nonsense to herself the Chinda made her way to the backroom and to her great relief found it just as she remembered it. With shaking hands she pulled a drawer from the cupboard. It was filled with medical supplies, enough to triage a patrol team – Nanami was many things, amongst them either a liar or prepared. Licking her splintered lips Nagisa chose to think of her as the latter and set to work.

Ironically it was all the time she had spent with Seryu, and Lyvalaea to a lesser degree, that now enabled her to tend to her wounds and identify the variety of ointments, pills and crèmes that stood assembled. Carrying the basket with her to the bathroom upstairs the Chinda began to hum a melody she had thought long forgotten in the depths of her heart. It was the song Kiriko had used to sing to her when the nights had been long, cold and full of fright.

Carefully, gingerly, Nagisa stripped whilst the hot water filled the tub. Bit by bit she cleaned herself, repeating the song over and over as if it was a mantra that kept the pain away, kept the voices away. Only once she interrupted it, a childish smile crossing her face. “I can see.”

With the blood wiped away and her other injuries tended Nagisa stood in front of the tall mirror and inspected her work, specifically her face. A vertical scar ran from her right brow through her eye and ended just below. It was miracle that the eye had not been destroyed. Exhausted, and the pain still throbbing in her system, the woman reached for boxes full with colorful pills. The first two she chose deliberately, the others based solely on the fact that she recognized a few words. Lying on the small white carpet in the bathroom Nagisa waited for the effect to set in whilst brushing over her arm, and singing her song.

What had gone wrong?

It was that white witch, Katsumi whispered, causing a weary Nagisa to nod quietly. “Seryu tried to kill me.”

She tried to kill you, despite your love. Can you see now how other people make you weak? Again the Chinda nodded, but this time trying to deny the Hollow’s claim. “She was angry. Confused.”

She hates you.

“No, no you are wrong. Seryu cares.”

You would be dead now, if it wasn’t for me. You realize that, don’t you? Slowly the pain subsided, the throbbing being now more akin to a drum that was slowly beat far in the distance. Bit by bit the outline of the world grew hazy and Nagisa sleepy.

Yes, rest. I’ll keep this body safe. You know I will.

Then, just as the Chinda threatened to slip away, gave into the embrace of sweet oblivion, a sharp sting jolted her system. She had come. Nagisa struggled to her knees, the Pale Lady hissed.

“She’s here…she’s here!”

Katsumi sneered. Well, then I will just have to finish what you started, right?

“Hm?,” groggily the Chinda leaned against the door frame, shaking her head, trying to bring the world back into focus.

Get dressed.

“Seryu does care. I’ll prove it to you.”

Clad in the tatters of her Shinigami uniform Nagisa left Nanami’s home, her wounds tended, her system drugged. With her mind pinned on one Reiatsu the Chinda began to walk. Then, another signature joined the first, and she began to run.

Nagisa could feel Seryu’s Reiatsu fading, quieting. She was calming down, wasn’t she? That was good. At last they would be able to talk. To reason. To explain things to one another. The Chinda nodded to herself. Yes, fading was good. However, there was another signature next to Seryu and even before she had reached the soft hill that was crowned by a tree Nagisa knew to whom it belonged. Still, upon laying her eyes upon the accursed figure for the first time she sneered, snarled like a wild animal. A tall figure, strong in body and spirit – stronger than her? – his Reiatsu, a radiant, a blinding white light tinted with dark streaks. Though did those tell of his struggles, or were they proof of his wickedness?

Enthralled by what she saw, the Chinda slowly drew closer.

Seryu rested in the man’s arms, seemed comfortable and happy like Nagi had never seen her before. It hurt. The Akamine stared at the man with glassy eyes, enchanted, filled with love. Nagisa knew that look, for she had wanted nothing more to have it laid upon herself. Why him? Tears dwelled up in the Chinda’s eyes as she bore witness to the tenderness. This is wrong, she wailed in her head.

Didn’t I tell you?

That should be me!

It is clear then, what you must do, no?

He took her from me.

If he didn’t exist, she would be mine.

Despair filled the Chinda and she began to shake her head as she drew closer and closer to the edge. The air around her picked up once more, but inside her Inner World the storm was already raging. Waves splashed high, Nagisa thought to hear a familiar voice, but it was drowned out by the torment and pain. Slowly her gaze fell upon the water’s surface. Beneath it, there would be quiet, she knew. Beneath it, there would be certainty. Strength. Carefully the Chinda dipped a toe into the icy water…

Seryu didn’t deserve her, but Nagisa still wanted her. The fact that the Akamine continued to deny her could only mean one of two things. Either she was truly alone and without love, or Jian, the mortal, was the true culprit. Yes…yes,  obviously a woman of Seryu’s caliber would never fall for someone like him that’s more boy than man. Someone who is stricken by mortality and bound to fade and whisk away before her very eyes before long. Truly, if she removed him, life would be better, for all of them.

Finally, at last, Nagisa realized. It wasn’t her that had needed saving. It was Seryu. And once that swine lay gutted at her feet, they would be free to go home. Together.

A tint of sadness rushed over the Chinda’s face as she passed the Akamine’s blade and picked it up. She regretted what she was about to do a little, but it was for the greater good. Seryu would understand.

With ease Nagisa handled the blade that was part of the very soul of the woman she was about to save. Jian had beguiled her, tricked her into thinking they were a couple. Fitting only that she would spear them both onto the same blade. She would miss Seryu’s heart on purpose, but show Jian the full limits of his mortality.

“Die!”

Thrusting her right arm forward Nagisa set out to pierce the two. However, at the last moment her hand faltered, she slowed down, giving Seryu enough time to whirl about. Their gazes met. The wind howled and the two women, both battered and beaten from their last engagement, but the one field dressed while the other was still bleeding, met. Nagisa’s black hair flew around wildly, blocking out her blue eye.

“I am doing this for you!” the Chinda explained, her voice cracking as an eerie echo stole its way into her voice. “Can’t you see?”

Firmly the Akamine’s hands clasped around her own blade and no matter how hard Nagisa pushed she would not give way. Leaning onto the blade there stood a feverous zeal in the differently colored eyes.

“Just give me what I want already!”

The Chinda moved with the speed of lightning. Pulling the other woman’s zanpakutou from her body she grabbed Seryu by the collar and threw her towards the tree, there, before she even had the time to hit it, to feel the shock and pain, Nagisa impaled her. Deeply she drove the blade into the wood, nailing Seryu to tree so that she could witness the demise of her false love, and the triumphant victory of Nagisa.

“So pretty,” the Chinda whispered and drew closer, a hand trailing the Akamine’s porcelain skin.

 “So pretty,” closer and closer Nagisa came, her broken lips opening slightly in greed and anticipation when mere inches separated her from Seryu’s mouth.

Then she dashed away, brought distance between herself and the mortal. He was strong. And angry. A silver tantou materialized in her hand.

“Why do you keep ruining everything?” the Chinda’s voice was otherworldly, as if two people spoke at once, accompanied by a reverberating sound that clearly conveyed her malice and spite.

“This is love! Don’t you understand?” an almost begging tone stole its way into her sentence, one that quickly was replaced by anger. “You need to disappear!”

Like a sliver flash the knife surged forward. He had stolen her precious Seryu. The apple of her eye.

An eye for an eye.

2331/50= 46

Seryu had already given up when his words stirred something emotional inside of her. The sensation of regret pressed down her throat until a thick lump formed inside of it and the pain creeped throughout her whole body. An almost primal need overcame her, the sudden and strong wish to be with him for as long as she could lasted and overwhelmed her. Seryu had always been so desperate for love and now that Jian was giving her so much of it, embracing her with his light, she was suddenly in no position to return his feelings? None of this seemed quite right to the young woman and as he said all those sweet things to her, she nodded silently in agreement.

I should have taken the time for him, she told herself, her mind was spinning and his words caused a huge mess inside the dying girl’s head. Was she ready to leave this world yet? Seryu had always assumed that one day she’d have to bid Jian farewell, because of his mortality and perhaps because he chose to love someone who could age with him instead of someone who constantly reminded him of how fragile he was.

“I will,” she suddenly said, hand gently grasping his, squeezing it and caressing it so carefully as if he was the injured one. “Once all of this is over, I will take more time for us,” she promised, that cheery smile on her face never faded. “I was promoted,” Seryu knew she wasn’t allowed to speak so much, but she couldn’t help but return his kindness and affection. “Shun said he will help me,” her voice was shaking, but there was a small gleam of hope in it, “I can visit you whenever I’m free and we can go to sleep together and wake up next to each other, just like we’re supposed to!” Her voice finally broke, she coughed once again and allowed herself to rest against his chest.

And we can travel...anywhere you would like to go. I will follow you no matter what.

He kissed her and everything was right with the world. She might move on without him, but even in another life, Seryu would find him again. She would find him again and be with him and he’d love her just like he always did - and always would. Leaving behind so many regrets, something inside Seryu told her that her time hadn’t come yet. That she still had to pay for her sins, that she still had to make up to everything she’d destroyed and it was in those last moments when her body gently moved up against his, their lips reunited and she embraced him with her ever so destructive and erosive reiatsu, caressing his in the most gentle way possible.

And then, she shielded him away. And she did it on purpose.

Cut the crap, as per usual, Asura gave her everything but sympathy. She knew, perhaps even better than Seryu did, that the snow-haired Shinigami had the stamina of a tank, and the will to survive one war after another - if she wanted to. Seryu never stopped being strong, although she wasn’t indestructible, but sometimes the woman simply lost track of her purpose. She seemed to forget what it was that she was living for and sometimes she wished Asura would finally allow her to put her aching soul to rest.

But they both knew, as long as there was something she could do, as long as her life had a purpose, she would find the will and the strength to act on it. And even this time, she did.

A sudden wave of Kaido violently shook through her body, so much that even Jian would easily be able to notice it. She had her eyes closed during the kiss but as she opened them again, they were azure blue in color and as crystal clear as they used to be. Her lips never left his, not even as her arm moved around, bones breaking, reshaping, reforming in impossible angles and just a moment before Nagisa could reach them, she looked up to him and gently put her hands on his shoulders.

“Never stop fighting for what you believe is right.”

And then she pushed him away.

Not very far, two meters perhaps, but far enough so her blade couldn’t reach him. Seryu turned around and as the sword pierced through her body, she wrapped her hands tightly around her own blade and ignored the internal scream Asura was letting out. She could feel the blood lust returning, she could feel Asura’s wish to return, to fight, but Seryu knew that she didn’t have the strength to call upon her powers once again.

Her eyes met Nagisa’s and as the two women faced each other, a wry smile crept over Seryu’s pale face. “You are just as delusional as I am,” she responded to her madness and took her last strength to look over her shoulder at the man she loved. This was her last gift to him. She hadn’t been able to prevent this fight from happening but perhaps, with a single action, Seryu would be able to change the outcome of it. She hoped that one day she’d find out.

“Live on,” she whispered and as another second passed, everything went black and the world around her vanished into nothingness.

________________
900 W O R D S
18 P O S T GP
60 T O T A L GP

Jian sighed into the kiss as he felt the Kaido reverberate through her body. He relaxed, felt the tension slide off of him and could feel as the love of his life began to heal, began to restore herself. She'd gotten so strong, they both had, never together, two people walking separate paths, rejoining again and again. On and on. Forever. Their kiss broke and he stared into her beautiful eyes, and smiled.

“Never stop fighting for what you believe is right.”

He saw Nagisa too late, felt her energy too late. The supposed miracle. Everything was wrong, all wrong. He stumbled backwards a step from Seryu's shove and watched her turn away in time to let the blade bury into her. A moment later he saw the blade erupt from her. Straight through. His hand twitched, muscles acting on their own.

And he stood there. Arms at his side, unmoving, fingers twitching every few seconds.

He watched, frozen in place as the monster swept Seryu across the ground and ran her body into the tree in an instant, faster than any movement Jian had ever seen.

He stood there still, frozen, brain unable, unwilling to process what happened so quick.

It touched her, and Jian felt a shuddering sense of revulsion through his body.

Still he stood there, unsure of how to respond, of what to do or say.

Then it charged, he could feel the colossal twisted energy turn its eye on him. It had a second blade drawn, surging towards him. Did it think him weak? Did it think herself capable, like so many others, to defeat him? To break him? To tear him down like it had Seryu?

The blade cleared the gap between them almost instantly, he could feel its bite long before it reached him. That was true killing intent, he'd never felt so much malice from a single being, let alone directed towards him.

An inch from his body the blade stopped and the world around them exploded at the force of the effort. His left hand was holding her wrist, both trembling with the opposition of forces at play. Jian didn't know what to do, everything seemed unreal. He just stood there for a moment before, blank, before one thing became clear. Seryu.

Jian's free hand swept across his body and from it a tidal wave of power flooded forth to consume the monster, he let go of its wrist and vanished, appearing next to Seryu. It would survive it somehow, he was certain. He only wanted it away, for a moment. His left hand felt the hilt of the blade that pinned her to the tree and an instant it was pulled free. He considered it for a moment in his hand, watched its glinting edge reflect marred by Seryu's blood, and swept her into his arms before gently lowering her to the ground.

With a flick of his wrist the blade was sent hurtling across the Earth, burying itself up to its hilt several feet away. Jian rose up from the ground he set Seryu upon, turned and let loose his energy. Radiant light pulsed outward, wild, chaotic and yet still broke around Seryu, leaving her unmarked by it. Within an instant energy shimmered around her followed by a barrier of solid golden light.

That was all he could do for her.

He was drowning. Drawn deep into a sea of emotions, pressing him further and further down. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see the surface to fight, all he could do was fall deeper and deeper. He couldn't even put a name to it, had never felt it before.

His hands clenched tight in two balled fists, his arms trembled, the very ground beneath him broke apart.

Was it anger? It felt nothing like any anger he had ever experienced before in his entire life. It wasn't anger it was something else entirely, something that fury paled to.

The world was wrong now. It wasn't something that warranted sadness, or anger. Having an emotional response to the crime that was committed was in itself, unjust. Someone had broken the very fundamental rules that governed reality, a crime beyond crimes. It demanded action.

Jian had drifted purposeless through his life, as a child, as a young adult. Even as he gained, and lost and regained his powers, he never had a reason to wield them beyond his childish fantasies. He never had a real purpose. Justice. Revenge. Retribution. The person before him had committed an offense beyond good and evil and now he knew what it was like to want something, to have a goal. He knew what his entire life was for now. It was liberating. He surrendered to the drowning feeling.

His fists unclenched. He wasn't going to hurt the monster that stood before him, he was going to unmake it.

The differently colored eyes peered at the man with a burning intensity. Over and over they envisioned his demise as if by thought alone they could somehow make it come to pass. However, the moment he caught her hand and held it in his grasp Nagisa learned a valuable lesson. They were not in the same league.

Naturally her cause was the righteous one, but his spiritual pressure outstripped hers, felt more like that of Captain Aizawa than anything else she had come to expect of a human. In the corner of her soul there was a tiny part that found that remarkable. Despite the brief period of time mortal’s had at their disposal they managed to overcome the most monumental challenges. Their growth in the face of adversity left them as strong, and at times stronger, than beings that had aged multiple centuries. Nagisa knew she was a young soul and that her progress had been staggering. However, compared to this man she amounted next to nothing. Was that what had attracted Seryu? That he in a few years had become more powerful than her who had wandered the planes for neigh half a millennia?

Nagisa grid her teeth. These ideas were far from the ones she needed now if she was to win, let alone survive.

Do you need aid, dear? Katsumi’s voice was as sweet as honey, it seeped into her mind despite the storm that raged through her Inner World. If you need power, you know where to find it.

The Chinda hesitated. She had already submerged herself to her ankles in order to tab into that monstrous stamina the Pale Lady kept locked away from her.

Could she?

Should she?

I need to win, the thought reverberated in her mind. Nagisa needed to kill this boy, how else could she hope to save her friend, to win the love she so desired – and deserved? Willingly she sunk down to her hips. The water felt cold, but also stimulating. It was as if a wave of new energy coursed through her system and the rush allowed the Chinda to ignore the ominous presence she felt lurking in the depths of the lake.

A swath of pure energy, concentrated and destructive, was thrown at her face by the mortal fighter and in half a heartbeat Nagisa’s eyes turned crimson red. Like scalding water the Reiatsu washed over her face, but thanks to Katsumi’s gift it did little harm but disoriented her momentarily. Shaking her head her black hair flew around wildly before falling back into her face. He was strong. Against her will a maniacal grin stole its way onto her face.

Only to turn into a sneer of disgust.

Not only had Seryu fainted upon being nailed to the tree, thus robbing herself of the satisfaction of witnessing the demise of the one who had so guilefully seduced her, but he had also moved to lay his hands upon her yet again. Nagisa snarled.

She took a step and then another one. Careful at first as she judged his pressure, gauged for glaring weaknesses but upon finding none she knew she’d have to revert to trickery and deception if she hoped to win this fight. The Chinda looked her foe over. He was very good at faking to care for her, so good in fact that for a moment Nagisa found herself questioning her position, but as she sunk into the water, she was filled with certainty. She was doing the right thing, no matter what the look in his eyes tried to tell her.

Faster and faster Nagisa walked swaying softly from one side to the other. Then she winked at the man and seemingly disappeared from sight. There was no sound besides the wind that rolled over the hills and the distant growl of thunder. Then, neigh a heartbeat later, the Chinda emerged on the man’s left hand side, putting herself not only in his blind spot but also between Seryu and himself.

Nagisa was sure she did so in order to protect her friend. Little did she know that this was Katsumi’s ploy. Should he counter he would risk harming the woman, golden light or not, so either this little precaution would compromise his reaction, or potentially kill the Akamine. Either way the Pale Lady would count it as a win.

Her strike came precise and akin to that of a viper, aimed to puncture his heart and with black Reiatsu oozing from the silver blade. All Nagisa needed was a light touch, a scratch that would allow the corrosion to fester and disintegrate his spirit and flesh alike.

She might not be strong enough to take him on in a fair fight.

But all is fair in love and war.

805/50=16; 62

It looked so distinctly human, feminine, pretty. The very figure of a Shinigami and yet in the end just another 'Vaizard', a pathetic creature lost to its own inner-demons. How romantic the idea was, a being caught between the literal struggles of good and evil, three spirits, two guides, each vying for control. It was a long road, two paths one to redemption and the other to chaos.

Jian didn't give a shit, it didn't matter if it could be saved. It had crossed lines Jian did not even know he had. All that was left was the execution.

His reiatsu rolled out of him not in the controlled way he normally did during a fight where it would fill the air by necessity. Instead it poured forth, stretched far out and threatened to consume all in its path. Every step was met by the cracking of ground beneath his feet, the natural result of power too strong for a world no longer contained. No longer withheld.

His opponent had changed from the initial assault, its fear and anger had twisted into something new, dangerous.  He had felt this before. The fall of the Vaizard, had any faced as many as he? Had they lived to tell of it? These were things Jian did not consider. The wink told him all he needed to know.

The Hollow was in control now.

It came fast, faster than he would ever be able to move, vanished with that fancy trick that the Shinigami used. He could feel its presence even if visually he could not keep up. It was coming from the side, between he and Seryu, perhaps to mitigate the amount of power he could unleash for fear of him hurting her, or perhaps out of fear for her safety. It didn’t matter. It had launched quick viperous stab from the side, it was almost cute. He felt the blade hum with some kind of dark energy. That was something he had encountered before in the hands of a Vaizard, the kind of energy that consumed and corrupted. He twisted, turned to face it as the blade drove near. It all happened in a flash. His hand shot forward and gripped it’s hand tight against the hilt as the blade began to plunge into his flesh. He guided it into his abdomen, shifting it away from vital areas and let it pass through the other side. He stepped forward, into it maintaining his vice like grip on its hand and weapon, locking the monster’s weapon in position.

"Do you think me frail?" he whispered through the pain and revulsion that radiated through his body. His hand was already driving forward in his counter attack. He made no fist, his hands were curled tight like claws as they seized for its throat.

"Do you think yourself strong Hollow!?" He squeezed tight with the kind of power that would rend solid stone and pivoted hard, hauling it from its little trick and away from Her. His hand left its wrist and shot forward like a bullet, stopping inches from its chest.

"I AM GOING TO TEAR YOUR SPIRIT APART UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT!" he screamed. “NUMBER ONE!”

For a moment the wild energy that made up his spiritual pressure vanished for a moment, his hand took on a bright glow and power lanced forth from the palm of the striking hand. It was as if it had for a moment become a conduit to all of his rage. For a brief moment, as he intoned each word, he understood what it meant to wield power like his.

This was not a battle for survival. This was not his attempt to save a mad woman from her inner demons.

"DESTRUCTIVE! FORCE!"

This was nothing more than an erasure of a thing that no longer deserved to exist.

The energy rushed forward, unlike Jian it had no agenda, it had no grievances or anger. The wave of chaos sought only to consume everything in its path and storm off into the night sky.

In the wake of the blast Jian lurched forward driving himself towards the beast. He wasn't done yet, he still had to tear it apart.

Blood spilt slowly from his gaping wound and a dark energy festered.

716/14/83 GP Total

A smug smile rested on the pale woman’s face. His Reiatsu was strong, heavy, but far stretched and contorted by emotions. If she kept threatening Seryu, this was her fight.

His movements were fast. However, whether he was truly able to match her speed or simply had been lucky to guide her movements astray remained yet to be seen. It was with keen interest though that Katsumi noted how the mortal readily took a wound in order to close the gap. A bold move. But bold men seldom lived long. It was with satisfaction that she saw the silver blade pierce his skin. Thusly caught up in what should have been a moment of glory for her though she realized too late that his other hand had closed around her throat.

“You are right on both accounts,” the Hollow replied, the sclera of her eyes turning to black from white. Forcefully Katsumi came a step closer. “Do you think your boisterous nature scares anyone? You are strong for a mortal, sure, but at the end of the day, that is all that you are: mortal.”

The crimson eyes darted to Seryu, in part to force his gaze. She intended to drive him furious, to have him abandon reason and give in to his hate. People who lost control made mistakes. And people who made mistakes on the battlefield found their shallow grave.

“Look at her. That you are frail and weak is clear as day. How else could she have ended up like this if you truly love her?” A grin. “The answer is that you don’t. And how could you? You are barely more than a boy! And in a few minutes you will be laid low! However, even if you were to live out your miserable life, the measly few decades you have left are over in a flash for her and I.”

“If you have any respect for her – and true love, then you will disappear,” the Hollow stared at him faking sincerity: “I can give her eternal happiness. That is impossible for you.”

His cry drowned out her words, but the eerie moment in which his aura subsided struck a chord of fear in Katsumi’s mind. A light, fueled by immense Reiatsu, formed at the palm near her chest and all of her senses spoke of imminent danger. Katsuumi grid her teeth and kicking off against the grass she darted backwards just as the light shot forth. Jerking her hand she brought up the blade, using it to dampen the blow and stay the beam for bit an instant. Then her body flickered.

The light grew in intensity, seemed to bath the Chinda’s entire torso and ravage her physique, leaving a burned woman in its wake once it had waned. Clearly in pain the woman staggered forward, a hand pressed against her chest, the other raised in a silent plea for the mortal to spare her – but drunk as he seemed there was no stopping Jian. However, once he was upon her to extract his vengeance upon her the injured figure dissipated, faded away like dust in the wind.

In the meantime Katsumi had made her way towards the man’s back once more, leaving an illusion to play theater for him. She dropped into a partial crouch, both knees bent, drew her right arm back whilst extending the left forward; grasping the kashira of the tantou, her left hand hung awkwardly in the air without a blade to rest against, but she wasn’t prepared to place that ace quite yet. Softly the woman’s body vibrated as she charged the kinetic energy she would undoubtedly need to pierce his heart. Then, in the moment her mirage dissipated, Katsumi shot forth.

623/50=12; 74

Its words were like the poison it wielded, the same that he could feel eating away at the festering wound, as they were both irrelevant. He didn't care, couldn't care. His anger drove him like a fuel he was burning up to sustain himself. He didn't feel the pain of the injury or anything else. He didn't respond to the creature, merely drove himself forward, carried out his actions. Replying was a waste, it did not help him achieve his objective.

He made his anger his armor, and steeled himself with it. "CUT ME!" he screamed, hands like razor blades tearing through the illusion that faded into air. He shifted quickly, caught its position in his sense and pivoted as the blade swept forward slamming into his body, another near fatal miss. "STAB ME!" he continued as if the deed had not just been carried out.

His hand gripped its hand close again, absorbing the blow so that he might keep it from evading. His voice grew quieter. "Freeze me solid, or burn me to ash..." His fist launched forward like a freight train, energy echoing in its wake, carrying enough force to tear through any Hollow armor it might have been imbued with.

Punch Art #17, Piercing Blow.

The blade was dragged free of him, blood rolled out slowly as it did. It didn't matter, his anger shielded him even as the decay grew.

"I will not stop," he whispered.

His power began to focus once more, the torrent that filled the area grew still, his hands took on a white light, he thrusted both of them out. Energy poured out, white balls of energy burst forth, dozens, hundreds, each of them shot out in all directions filling the air. It might have been beautiful of not for their clearly lethal intent.

"Until there is NOTHING," the air around them took on a humm. Each of ball of energy growing bright, spinning faster and faster, until the began to explode.

"LEFT!"

Punch Art #85, Nothing.

The explosion seemed to fill the very air around them, Jian felt the heat lick his body, wash over him and pass. The only area the seemed safe, save him, was the area around Seryu. Glass shattered from the buildings, cars caught in the area were left as husks. The world became a cacophony of noise around them, echoing long into the night followed by the alarms of jumpy cars.

His left arm launched out, sending a wave of energy to follow it, tracking the beasts spiritual presence. As they neared they would split apart into smaller spiralling blasts of energy, creating a field of fast moving projectiles.

Punch Art #78, Staccato Launch.

Dodge, don't dodge, it wouldn't matter. He would have it.

Jian lowered his arms. It would live, but not much longer, the cracked ground beneath his feet were driven further, powdering beneath his heel as his hands began to glow again, humming with destructive intent. "You better have something other than that sword beast."

"Because I'm going to shatter it," his words hissed, not as a threat but as a promise. He was already moving towards it.

526/10/93 GP Total

It was a clean hit, albeit a near miss.

Effortlessly the silver blade penetrated his body, cut through muscle and would have come out the other side as well after severing the heart, had he not twist his upper body. Already the edges of the wound darkened, flesh corroded and ate away at the Reiatsu that tried to dam the decay. How many of these wounds could he take? Three? Five? Twelve? It matter naught to Katsumi. This man was but a glorified pin cushion. A stepping stone in the ladder that would spell Nagisa’s downfall and her ascension.

Again Jian reached for her hand.

“What is this?” the Pale Lady taunted as he pulled her closer. “Does Seryu not give you enough attention? Or did your mother simply never teach you not to lay a hand on a lady?”

His fist shot forth like a canon ball in a straight line at her chest. Katsumi sensed the danger to her life the moment the attack began. Hierro would not keep her safe this time. In a fluid motion she stepped sideways, brought sword arm and shoulders into one line so that she stood like a fencer, and then bent backwards. Her movements were tight, swift and wasted nary an ounce of the time she had left. However, in the end it was barely enough to save her life. Her clothes were singed by the powerful energy that trailed the fist, but her Shunpo had created enough space to escape a point blank hit that would have crushed her ribcage.

Hastily Katsumi stepped back. The sheer force and power of his blows was something she had previously underestimated. The Hollow had known there was a gap between them, but just how large it was she had refused to acknowledge in her arrogance. Down. Down!

Katsumi could feel the mortal’s Reiatsu wax and wane as his emotions fluctuated. Again and again it seemed to grow in strength to neigh monstrous size, only to return to normality as anger wrest with control. It seemed very much to Katsumi that was playing with fire, relying a strength that could be as ruinous to him as she had been to Nagisa. The Pale Lady smiled. She had stuck him twice already. The poison had been administered; all she had to do now was outlast him. Play it safe and cut up his corpse as his indomitable will flickered like the dying embers of a hearth. All she had to do was play for time.

A task that suddenly seemed herculean in nature.

Like tiny star orbs of energy flew from his hands. A few at first, but quickly so many that there was nary a space around them that they did not occupy. The intent of this technique was clear, even before the slow humming started to fill the air like a swarm of angry hornets.

“There are easier ways to ask a dame for a dance, you know?” despite the dire situation her haughty arrogance was incessant. “Bring it then!”

The ones nearest to her were the first to explode. Katsumi moved forwards, evading the direct impact her iron skin easily absorbed the rest. It would be dangerous only to get caught up in the mass. However, faster and faster the little stars came at her, forcing the woman to twist and concord, but even then the hopelessness of her situation became quickly apparent. Discarded were dreams of turning this onslaught around, of having Jian himself get caught up in it. Replaced they were by baser instincts. Katsumi ran.

Jumping this way and turning that way the Hollow managed to stay but a hair’s breadth ahead of her pursuers. In one enormous leap she took to the skies, but even here she was save. Like tiny meteors the projectiles followed her. Left, up, behind her, from above. Katumi’s outline no longer fluttered, she moved so fast she had disappeared from sight – and still the hornets followed her. An explosion to her right threw off her footing, staggering the woman so that her next step fell short and the resulting explosion bit into her face.

How!? Katsumi’s voice was like angry thunder that echoed through Nagisa’s Inner World. It was a capricious sound, full of intent to pass that suffering and pain on to someone else. Hunching over the Chinda sought refuge. She did not want to be the one to be beaten and forsaken again. The thunder was loud. It hurt her ears and frightened her. Perhaps the silence under the sea would bring her solace? 

Reiatsu, hm?

In the real world the Pale Lady had not missed the fine motions Jian had employed.  Locking on to her signature; it was the most apparent explanation, the easiest trick to orchestrate an ensemble of percussions such as this one. One she would put an end to.

Katsumi had already disappeared from sight, but with the noose of explosions around her neck growing tighter and tighter she played an ace she had hoped to keep up her sleeve for a while longer. When next the Hollow stepped she left behind not only an after image, but also her Reiatsu. Unable to change their course or pick up on where the woman had gone the stars crashed aimlessly into each other. To Katsumi it was a firework that celebrated her skill.

With a triumphant smile she appeared before Jian once more. Several bits of her already tattered clothes were simmering from the heat and explosions, and a part of her right cheek was burned and wounded, marring her otherwise perfect counterfeit. However, as the mortal lowered his arms a milky white tear stole its way down Katsumi’s face, calcifying over the skin where it went before slowly branching out to grow over the damaged tissue.

A giggle grew in the pit of her stomach, found its way up into her throat before echoing loudly into the world with the horrible dissonance of a sound created when two voices overlapped.

“My, my, aren’t you precious.”

Still he exhumed anger and the woman was half surprised not to see flames linger where his feet met the ground.

“Getting worked up about this silly little trinket. If you want it so much, then have it” flicking her wrist angrily Katsumi sent the silver blade flying straight at Jian’s face. However, before it could touch any part of the mortal warrior the Hollow recalled it with the wink of a finger. The moment’s distraction was all she had been after. Having prepared her next trick Katsumi seized the initiative and began to walk in a circle around JIan. After two steps all sound the Hollow made died down, leaving her unnaturally silent, and after four steps she left behind an image. Then another, and another and another.

It was the same trick Nagisa had invented against the feisty little witch Clara and her pet dragon. The green haired amazon had fancied herself strong and had dabbled in playing with auras; however, against this absolute absence not even her enhanced senses had helped her much. Within mere heartbeats Jian was surrounded by a squadron of women, all staring at him unnervingly with an eerie smile and a mask covering the right cheek.

He was strong, Katsumi knew now, but brittle. He could dish it out, but not take it, the oozing wounds a testament to that theory. Humans were the brightest stars, but also the ones with the shortest lifespan – a lecture Nagisa had learned the hard way. It was time to put this particular one in its place.

From one heartbeat to another half a dozen women moved as one and charged at Jian, steel gleaming in the flickering light of broken lanterns and burning cars. However, the real Katsumi hovered above. Without a doubt he had another trick, but once baited she would descend on him like a headman’s axe.

1358/50=27; 101

Surrounded. The object of his hated had broken apart into multiples dozens of them. They had him surrounded and his senses revealed nothing, perfect arrays of stars lined around him. He could repeat the trick but why bother, the blade that cut him would be the real one, and then he would know.

A potent trick for a simple result, to cut him. He welcomed it.

But his body was dying, or it should have been but it was held together, wrapped tight from the weight of his own spirit. The flesh was decaying, wasting away from the places its blade had touched him. It would continue to get worse. It didn't matter, it was a distraction away from the only thing that did matter. It. Killing it. His hand pulled close and the energy focused, his skin took on a golden glow that faded as quickly as it had come.

"A present, more of you to break?" words, he could feel his breath quickening, coming more rapidly out of a growing desperation. Using words now, he admonished himself for the weakness. He didn't use words, they were the wasteful tools of his opponents, they were things they used to try to control him and he was letting them.

It was the pain, the fear, the worry, the distractions. His body was weakening, he was making mistakes. His rage was his fuel, and his armor but it blinded him. He was little more than a wild animal like this, but it didn't matter!

Every time logic tried to gain ground, to calm him and get him to consider his actions he felt the indignation. How dare he try to think, or feel anything other than the raw fury that burned inside his nerves while Seryu lay like that. The image of her twisted battered body flooded his mind whenever his mind tried to steady him and then his anger was born anew.

They had descended upon him without warning, countless knife points from all angles. Impossible for him to defend against them all, but only one was real. His mind could not decipher the feel of the energy like this. It couldn't determine which was real, or not, as junked up on his pain and fury as he was.

Instead he let loose the energy stored and stood his ground as a golden dome burst into existence around him. Its brilliant light cast against the dark world evaporating the shadows. The illusory blades met against his half sphere of energy and glanced away harmlessly. He felt the true blade above and did not so much as pivot. His anger had revealed to him a new trick of destruction.

A wave of his hand and the dome glew bright, instantly it exploded filling the air around him with the dangerous rush of his energy. It evaded it, almost with ease he pivoted to find it.

A bright line of crimson drew itself across his shoulder, registering a fresh wave of pain and nausea, he felt himself stagger. The attack had come through the dome. It had been potent, wild with his anger, but flawed. The blade had worked through it, wielded by someone in control. Wild, and dangerous and yet he was still more of an animal than it.

He fell, knee catching the ground with the rush of shameful anger that came with it. He was breathing hard, too much energy wasted, as if his anger could somehow power his soul.

Childish.

His right hand caught the ground, getting ready to move. It would come, it would not stop. His weakness that he so happily provided it was opportunity. He tried wildly to grasp on to something in his mind that would calm him but all he found was deeper anger, at himself, at the creature, at the damage done to Seryu.

If he couldn't conquer his own weakness how could he ever hope to defeat the creature? Seryu would pay the price for his arrogance, but as she lay dying he could think of nothing else.

677/13/106

Humans truly were the brightest of stars.

Despite his youth, his inexperience and inability Jian had proven himself to be, in a way, highly capable and the strongest of her opponents to date. His martial prowess and sheer strength of spirit had put her on edge and for a moment even Katsumi had doubted if victory would truly be hers. His emotions had empowered him beyond anything she had ever seen, had ever thought possible of one who did not wear a Haori. It had been a highly educational fight. Now, however, with Nagisa submerged and Jian on his knees absolute victory was at last within her grasp.

A smile spread over lips, yet only half of it was visible as more and more of her face was covered under an incessantly growing porcelain mask.

“Now that’s a look I like,” a gloating expression stood in the woman’s crimson eyes. Again and again she twirled the silver knife through her fingers. Slowly she closed in, savoring that moment.

Deep within the bowels of her soul Nagisa was caught in dazing haze. Water surrounded her on all sides, dulled her senses and despite the initial coldness it slowly began to feel warm and comfortable. However, uneasiness was growing in her chest. It was a sensation she could not shake and grew in intensity the more she felt comfortable. Nagisa began to stir. She tried to draw breath but found it to be an exhausting and laborious process. She slumped back and tried to take in her surroundings with weary eyes. It was dark. Only a single ray of pale light broke through the water’s surface, but instead of illuminating the depths it only served to make them appear dark and threatening.

Nagisa tried to move. Something was not right, and try as she might she could barely will her fingers to do more than twitch. Panic began to rise in her chest, but then a current of warm water soothingly kissed her face. It was all well, was it not? The Chinda leaned backwards and facing the sky she began to sank deeper.

Sounds and sensations had been but muffled nuisances to her for a while now, but still she continued to feel them. Nagisa blinked, and when she opened her eyes she saw the outside world. However, it was different to before. It felt as if she saw the world through someone else’s eyes. A moment passed and then another before the Chinda truly registered what she saw. Jian was panting heavily and bleeding from multiple wounds.

Ha! Just as he deserved. That would teach him to come between her and Seryu.

Then the Chinda spied something else off to the side. Shrouded in a cocoon of light, lay the battered body of Seryu, and just like that Nagisa’s gear grind to a halt. The Akamine, her friend and love, was heavily wounded, seemed closer to death than life – but why? The Chinda grew cold. She knew the answer, no matter how hard she tried to deny it: she had put Seryu in that sorry state.

But she had done so for Seryu’s own good, had she not? Clearly the Akamine had been manipulated by the capricious mortal at every turn, how else could her actions be explained?

Nagisa’s attention focused once more on Jian, sought to bloodlust in his eyes and the violence in his nature. However, what she found was an almost melancholic sadness. She knew the look on his face well. It was worn by those who lamented their weakness. Those who were losing what was most precious to them, yet could do little to prevent it.

Nagisa turned her body upright.

The stench of death hung in the air. It was a foul odor and Nagisa’s heart beat faster and faster as she came to realize: it was her that reeked of it.

Is this not what I wanted? hollow her thoughts echoed through her mind. With Jian gone, Seryu will be free. Mine.

Pain. It started in her heart and spread through her entire body with each beat.

No, the Chinda finally acknowledged. This is not it. This is not it!

Flailing desperately about Nagisa began to treat water, and swam towards the surface.

Katsumi went round her bested foe, relishing every second of the spectacle. At last they came face to face and the illogical fear that any haste movement could dispel her moment alone was it that kept the Pale Lady from caressing the man’s face. A deep sigh that spoke of content and joy left her lungs. This was it.

Gleefully the woman raised her arm high above her head only to bring it down in a swift motion – a motion that abruptly halted as her entire arm began to twitch and tremble. A strained expression stood on the figure’s face. The passion and excitement that had stood in the red eyes moments prior had been replaced by hatred. And one of her eyes had turned blue.

The water that had been nice and comforting seconds ago was suddenly vicious, cold and pressing her down with all its might. Still Nagisa would not give up. Fear had filled her heart. Fear for what might await her at the depths of the lake, but also fear for what she might have done. Again and again the Chinda moved her arms, ignored the pain in her limbs and lungs and at last she thought to feel the tips of her fingers brush against the surface. It felt rubbery and sticky like glue, but Nagisa used that as best she could and clawed into it, pushed and after a moment of seemingly endless struggle was able to break through the surface.

Eagerly her lungs sucked in the cold air. Wind blew across the lake and caused the water on her skin to prick like tiny needles, but Nagisa was thankful for the pain. Anything was better than the dullness she had just escaped. Rolling onto the side, the woman began to cough and then threw up, emptying her lungs of vile water.

In the real world Katsumi shrieked back. She staggered, neigh stumbled, but remained upright.

“No!,” she croaked: “Go drown! DROWN!”

The woman heaved once, twice and then threw up. Water, a large quantity of water splashed onto the ground and down her legs.

“No!”

Exhausted the Chinda lay on the water. Her breath came ragged and she knew the ordeal had only just began, but any moment she was given to recuperate she would use.

“Hello, Na-gi-sa.”

The Chinda closed her eyes for a moment. She had known her peace would not last long, but for it to have been this short…

“Katsumi.” Nagisa reply was curt as she struggled to her feet.

“Now, now, is that a way to speak to the woman who was going to make all of your dreams come true?” Katsumi, tall, unbelievably pale and with hair like snow, piercing red eyes and a single flower of the very same color adoring her hair, stood with her arms folded. She wore a red hakama and a white hakamashita. “Show some respect.”

“No,”the Chinda shook her head, wet strands of raven hair clinging to her face. “This is what you think I wish for. And I was naïve enough to just blindly follow you.”

Katsumi pressed her thin lips together until they were but a firm white line, an act that caused Nagisa to shudder involuntarily as she recognized that habit as her own. “There was an easy way to this, and a hard way.” The Hollow’s head jerked towards the lake’s surface. “We both know you don’t have it in you to follow a hard way, so do us both a favor and go back.”

Nagisa shook her head. “This was the last time.” Clamping her left hand the Chinda felt it wrap around something – someone- she had sorely missed.

“O?” Katsumi raised an eyebrow and sneered. “And what exactly do you plan to do with this thing?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

The Hollow bared her teeth, showing off her elongated incisors. “So be it then.” Reaching into the spacious sleeve of her hakamashita Katsumi procured a silver blade.

Tightly Nagisa gripped the hilt of her weapon. Her muscles were tense, but her breath calmed.

The two women clashed.

”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRHHHH”

A blood curdling scream echoed into the night as Katsumi and Nagisa engaged in their duel. The Chinda’s head was thrown backwards as she screeched, then her body buckled and fell to its knees. Again the woman heaved but now it was not water that wet the ground but a strange white liquid that immediately calcified upon contact. It stuck to her arms, her leg and began to engulf her leg at a rapid pace. The mask, merely fragmentally covering part of her cheek, spread quickly until it covered half of her face, hesitating seemingly before crossing over to the other half.

Again the Chinda screamed. Like a banshee she made her pain and misery, only to fall abruptly silent. All sense and reason had vanished from Nagisa’s eyes. It had been replaced by a thirst for blood and carnage; they were filled with a primal rage. Darting around left and right the woman looked for a victim, something to vent herself on. She sights of what was in her immediate vicinity. Viciously, like an animal, the Chinda pounced on Jian, slashing at him wildly. 

1582/50=31; 132

Ooc: Sorry for the delay. Holiday, then uni, then drama…yeah, but we are back on track!

Why did it always end up like this! The storm continued to burn inside his mind but his body felt spent. His muscles were heavy, leaden, just the thought of lifting them cast fatigue upon his weary mind. It wasn't over, but he could feel his injuries grow worse and worse as time went on. The dark energy she'd thrown into his body had taken its toll. That was his mistake, believing himself invincible, believing that because his energy was greater than its, that victory was assured. Had he not learned caution from any of his other fights? He would pay for arrogance.

He once confided in Takua the fear that someone like him had been given such immense power, the ability to inflict terrifying destruction, and that he had no idea why he had it. It had felt like some kind of twisted cosmic joke. Now he was beginning to believe that he was the joke. There goes the mere mortal, playing with the powers of the gods. He exists to be beaten, broken, again and again as a demonstration of futility.

The thought made him angry, which at that point was a torch to a bonfire. Anger didn't make him strong, it made him blind. Once more betrayed by himself. He was his greatest flaw. He was the reason he was losing, the reason that he would die.

The monster was circling him now, tracing slow footsteps outside range of any counterattack that he couldn't find it in him to muster. It felt so crushingly hopeless, here he was again, time after time. He felt himself trapped in a hopeless cycle, how could anyone like him break the tight bonds of Fate that gripped? He'd been rescued from the jaws of death so many times, perhaps this was Fate's way of making amends, correcting the great mistake that was the unfortunate life of Jian Oreachi.

He could have won in the beginning, that time had passed.

His breathing came hard, he was still shaking with rage through every difficult breath. It stared him down for a long moment, before it let out a lilting sigh. In an instant the blade came up like a guillotine poised. His whole being screamed for action, for some kind of movement but there was nothing to drew on. His will felt shattered, and so easily too. Was this all there was to the -great- fighting spirit of Jian? The amazing mortal who was going to save the world?

Hero, try pathetic child. He'd shown how well he deserved his power.

His eyes closed as the blade descended it short deadly arc. Too quick to think, to act, but long enough to accept. His hands unclenched, as if to welcome a long deserved rest.

It didn't come.

His eyes snapped open in alarm and stared at the razor edge of the trembling blade inches from his face. Alive. He drew a sharp breath and saw the strained expression in his opponent's face. An eye shifted blue. It was subtle, but it was there. His brain jump started once again. He could feel it in her energy. Not a monster, but a woman trapped in one. The Hollow spiritual presence had changed, lessened. Jian's fists tightened again. This one was different.

She was fighting -back-.

His body still strained against the burden of moving, at the crushing weight of fighting on, but he had to. His eyes flicked towards the golden barrier.

For her.

His opponent screamed out in the twisted voice he had come to associate with the enemy. She was caught in the midst of her own battle while Jian was in the midst of his. Slowly he began to claw himself up, ignoring the pain that ripped white hot through his nerves. Inch by inch he fought until he stood straight, his body slick from his own blood.

She'd obliged him, choosing to instead of press her advantage stagger about in place. The struggle wasn't contained entirely within her, Jian could feel the wild and monstrous reiatsu lash out tearing at the fabric of a world never meant to bear such burden. Jian was more than his world now, he had to be to protect it.

To protect the things he cared about.

The Hollow transformation began and for a moment he feared that she was losing the fight. He watched as she changed into a monster, marshalling his energy and making ready for his desperate bid against her. It was all or nothing now, now more hesitation. If the person inside could still fight, then so could he.

But, he knew that -he- would not be enough. His anger still burned, everytime he tried to control it he would picture Seryu. Dying. Dead. And the rage would be born anew, tearing at the inside of his stomach. He couldn't win like that, not then and certainly not now.

The creature stood once more, remade, before him. He exhaled slowly, his hands reached up and gripped the tattered remnants of the cloak's hood as the infection continued to burn through his weary mortal frame, and he slipped it on.

A lot of things happened in that instant. The first was that the creature launched at him, clearing the gap near instantly with its deadly claws. The second was that the calm descended him the moment to hood fell across his face. He felt himself vanish into the cloak, felt as it smothered out the parts of him that were unnecessary. He lost his anger, his fear, his sadness, his regrets, his doubts, his worries. All of the things unnecessary to one of the few things he kept: his purpose. The third thing that occurred was the dark energy that coursed through him was expelled, burnt up in the white hot radiance of his spiritual energy. He became like a void to the world around him, a complete vessel insulated against the outside world. A vessel filled fully with its own energy, with no room for the dark poison that was eating him from the inside out.

Everything became clear. His body became a greater extension of his will, he didn't need to concern himself with the movements, they were second nature, he merely needed to direct it. The creature was wild, bereft of sense, all power yet no grace, like he had been. It was a simple matter, his body pivoted, his hand moved and touched against the safe parts of the transformed creature's attack and deflected it. He didn't have the balance to follow up his attack yet and so he didn't. He shifted again, let his opponents follow up pass by while he collected himself.

It felt so easy. How had it ever hit him before? How had he ever decided to be struck by it? He wasn't fast, but he didn't need to be, the correct application of force and movement. He'd heard a fight was much like a dance and he felt on the cusp of that true understanding.

It couldn't harm him, it wasn't in the choreography. He was in control now.

Its power was immense, a single slip up and he could easily fall, his mortal shell was still seriously injured from their first round. It didn't matter, he wasn't going to slip up.

His palm shot out, launching all of his force with a few inches of movement to the center of its body. Its feet left the ground as it was thrown violently back, and he followed after it.

The plan was simple. There was something inside fighting, he would have to limit its destruction and protect Seryu until it won.

Or destroy it when it failed.

He shielded himself from the spray of concrete that exploded past like shrapnel as its body slammed hard against, and through the wall of a vacant section of the building, and from the second as it crashed against the street. It was already moving, like nothing had happened, launching against him wildly. He evaded, shot his hand out to grab the monster and brought it crashing down to the ground in front of him. His body pivoted and locked its arms against its back with his knee as he ground it into the shattered concrete.

The ground shuddered as they struggled. He couldn't hold it for very long, everything had become delay. How long he could drag it out, how much time he could give the girl fighting inside. He knew he could manage to destroy the beast, it wouldn't be easy but half measures proved far more difficult. Its hand broke free of his hold and lashed out, forcing Jian to release it and retreat back. It spun around to face with incredible speed, leg half bent against the cracked street that had sunk partially into the cities underlying sewer system. Jian drifted into the air a ways, pressing his leg hard on to a platform of solid air the he willed into existence behind him and ready to drive the beast once more into the ground.

He felt the energy a moment too late to dodge. That twisted dark void of Hollow Reaitsu formed into a single point, in his spiritual vision it was like a beautiful dark star collapsing into black hole. Death, it felt like death.

The time to dodge had passed, he felt his mind run the calculation, ran through the list of possible actions: there was only one. His fist sailed forward with no incantation or fancy name. A passive realization was acknowledged in that instant, it was never his body that struck at a foe. It was never the skin stretched over bone propelled by muscle, fueled by oxygen carried by his blood through veins. He didn't need to name it punch art, every blow carried the focused weight of his spirit behind it, if he let it.

For a moment it slipped into the unknown. There was no way for him to calculate the force of the Hollow fluctuating chaotic energy or even the weight of his spirit as it focused into his fist.

Red energy filled everything, it consumed his vision, consumed his spiritual senses. It became his world. His fist struck out against the deadly cero and at contact he could feel the reverberation. It was a very simple conflict at its root.

His will against the creatures.

The world exploded around them, energy ricocheted from impact and smashed along concrete tearing up the city around them. She was safe. The streets lifted up, bits of concrete the ones most close to them vaporized from the heat of their clash. She was safe.

The weight of his conviction was superior to the conflicted creature, his fist sailed through the crimson cero and connected with an echoing crash against the creature's mask sending it sailing into the sewers below. Blackened flesh that cracked and peeled formed at the end of his hand as he launched into the tunnels after it. Seryu was safe.

It was already lunging at him from the dark, he'd had enough. He couldn't afford to keep playing nice, every moment that passed the energy continued to steadily spike. He hands shot out, gripping it tight as he spun, and hurled it back to the streets above. As she soared wildly he let the air pull him after it. Already it turned to lash out at him. Its blows swept past him with two quick movements and with a pivot his foot landed solidly into its midsection and sent it hurtling in the ground.

In the wake of the explosion of concrete below he was there, his legs pinned its arms to its side, leaving its masked-face exposed. Playing nice hadn't done anything yet, so if there was an innocent buried deep within he'd simply have to pull it out. He couldn't wait forever. His fists began to sail forth, one after the other connecting with a sickening crunch against the mask. Again, and again he struck. "Wake up," he called, each syllable punctuated by another blow. Even his hands strained against the repeated force, knuckles split bleeding lightly.

"Wake up, or I -will- kill you."

He thought of Seryu, lying there, dying.

How much longer could she wait for him?

2047/40/146 GP Total

Afterimages of wisps of ivory burned in her mind's eye, as her silver eyes stared at nothingness. Seryu's hair, as she turned and followed Nagisa, and the bright, radiant light of the Senkaimon.

She wanted to leave them both to their own devices, perhaps let them settle their own conflicts in a mature, civil way. And yet, deep in her heart, she knew she couldn't. They've gone beyond a conflict that was resolvable in any capacity that ensures that they both keep their life and their relationship. Even though Lyvalaea had seen this new side of Nagi, all she could think of was how she could be of any help. Even at this time, she refused to believe Seryu's words-- the Nagi they knew can't be that unredeemable! Blood spilled out of her lips with every cough, the warm trickle of deep crimson trailed down on her chin and disconnected, dropping to the warm ground as she supported her own weight with her wrists. 

And yet her body ached, muscles stinging with the pain that this new Nagisa inflicted on her being. No, her friend, the Nagisa she knew was down there, deep inside, watching. And with that, with only that, the fire of renewed vigilance returned to Lyvalaea's eyes as she clutched at her heart, muttering a spell on a low voice as she lisped with each sting. She was dazed. Her mind, disoriented. Even if she shook her head and forced herself to remember, she had no clue where Nagisa and Seryu would be. Not a single clue. Karakura would be a good start, perhaps, but she didn't want to expend unnecessary energy by trying to find them all on her own. Who knows how long she'd take, with this frail body of hers.

---------------

Lyvalaea held on to the crimson ribbons, floating and flickering against the energies that ebbed and flowed around them. She followed her friends to the mortal realm, following the wisps of ivory that burned in the afterimage of her mind's eye, and yet she knew that's what it was-- an afterimage. Of Nagisa leaving. Of Seryu leaving. Of one woman's fervor to end the life of a mere mortal she believed to be the cause of her grief, and another woman whose duty only merely grazed over her reasons for wanting to kill a friend.

And, as soon as her reiatsu could catch even the slightest whiff of their trails, she followed. It had taken her a good while to find them, and with every second that passed of her not finding them, the more she worried about their state of living. And, the longer these two threads led her to the same direction, the more she felt the fear growing inside her, gripping all of her body. And yet, she didn't want to succumb. Beads formed on her brow as she shifted from one spot to another, running and jumping around roofs as the atmospheric pressure nipped at her cheeks. She'll get to them, no matter what. 

Her eyes widened the moment she caught sight of them. Nagisa's silhouette moving to and fro, as opposed to Seryu's still body. Lyvalaea was in a haze-- she wanted to protect Nagisa from Seryu, but the way Nagisa's reiatsu spiked and flared and danced spoke differently. And for a moment, she even found herself flooded with a strange sensation of urgency as she pushed herself forward, taking her last leap to the area. For the first time today, it wasn't even bias that led to her choices. Even at her most dazed, she chose Seryu, if only because she thought it would be highly perilous to approach Nagisa, let alone impossible. She was bound to gain someone's ire anyway, depending on her choices today. She hoped, at the bottom of her heart, that it wasn't an ire that led straight to someone's kill list. 

It was Lyvalaea's instinct that brought her right beside the golden barrier, and yet it was doubt that kept her from immediately attempting to tear it down. Here, trapped in a barrier at this state, Seryu couldn't fight. Seryu couldn't attempt to kill Nagisa. She was helpless, but also, harmless. She wouldn't be able to threaten anyone's life on her whim, or utter stupidity out of selfishness. It was nice and quiet, peaceful, even. After all that transpired only a few hours earlier, even Lyvalaea found herself almost secretly elated about all the silence she'd been getting. Seryu's selfishness. Stupidity. Arrogance. Feigned helplessness. All gone. She was but a strange, white-haired woman whose life was on the line. A life she almost so recklessly threw. 

Gently, the healer placed her hands above the brilliant barrier, her fingertips merely grazing upon the golden radiance that protected her friend from the destruction Nagisa and Jian left in their wake. Protection from all the destruction they're about to make. Instead of breaking the barrier and leaving Seryu vulnerable, Lyvalaea worked her knowledge of bakudou to unweave the barrier, bit by bit, and siphoned the energy to weaken the barrier and transmute the energy instead of tediously attempting to overpower it. A thing of conservation, she thought. To heal herself and to heal Seryu. And maybe with some spare energy to keep them both up. Slowly but surely, the golden energy ebbed from its strong foundation, patches of light waning from the topmost areas and down to its sides where the fibers of energy began to dissipate. 

A sharp sigh escaped Lyvalaea's lips as the last of the barrier's energy became hers, and allowed her body to integrate and stabilize with this new energy. Still breathing heavily, her hand fished to Seryu's body and searched for her phone, touching in places least expected before she was able to find the device to save their lives. After turning on the denreishinki, the healer navigated its familiar interface, scrolled through Seryu's contacts and sent a quick message to a person named Tsukiyo Kionchi with only three words on it. Seryu. Emergency. Karakura. In the very least, the best thing she could do to make sure that they all live was to keep away. And she knew, deep inside her, that she wouldn't be able to restrain the abomination that was Seryu the moment she woke up. Maybe it would try to fight again. To leave. To defend its ideals that had long been considered too childish, or too vicious. And she didn't want to handle that. Not alone.

A long sigh escaped her lips as she finally came to take a good look at her friend's dismal condition. All weak, and bloody. Maybe, one day, she might be able to ask the real Nagisa how she'd come to harbor so much hate towards Seryu, or what Seryu did to deserve this much. Even though she was leaning towards supporting Nagisa, she was torn between them. After all, it couldn't have been just one thing that led her here. At the back of her mind, she knew that both of them had their hand, reciprocated at each other's feelings, provoked each other's reaction. 

Slowly, but surely, her hands touched Seryu's chest, flooding her body with the same warm reiatsu held by the strawberry blonde healer, and allowed it to pulsate through Seryu's veins. She could almost imagine how damaged Seryu was, inside. And yet, they didn't have the luxury to create a proper assessment-- the idea nagged at her mind that with every second she spent idling, the more she just left her friend in danger. She didn't heal her friend, not yet, but infused her with only enough energy to serve as temporary fuel to take her body out of momentary peril. Only enough energy to do the right things, and could be easily wasted with each extra effort Seryu could do. 

As soon as she thought she'd given enough reiatsu, Lyvalaea pulled her hands away and stared expectantly, holding her fingers together as she waited. Wake up! Her eyebrows furrowed in worry the longer it took her friend to do so, each word turning into a mantra, a mental plea. 

Lyvalaea didn't know what to do, or what to say, exactly. Her thoughts darted from one idea to another, almost uncertain with the thought she held on at that moment. But, at this point, taking Seryu's life out of danger was high on that list. High, but not the one on top. 

After this entire ordeal, seeing her friend back up and only scantily awake, even Lyvalaea found herself in a light she'd never seen before. 

"Right now, Seryu, I am not giving you the luxury of getting everything you want," were the first things she uttered. Lyvalaea remained on her spot, legs folded on a kneel beside Seryu's weak body as her eyes remained focused on her friend, anticipating the next move. Lyvalaea was confident, Seryu wasn't stable yet. She'd given her friend only enough energy to wake and make a choice-- a burst of sudden movement could put Seryu's life in danger. A wrong move can most certainly cut it short. Silver eyes glared sternly, lips pressed in firm resolve as she watched her friend curse and struggle at how useless she was as a friend. More than just a maybe, Seryu would come to hate her after this, claw her out more or make her life miserable. Maybe even kill her for getting in the way, again. 

But Lyvalaea had a choice. She had a yearning to make it all stop.

"You can go back here, in that state, face them while you're not at your strongest. Or, you can come with me so we can focus on healing you, back in the Third where we'll have the most conducive place for recovering. Your choice." 

"Your pride, or your life."

Even if it sheds a bad light on her character. 

Even if it meant breaking her principles.

It was silent in the realm.

Silent, until she awakened from the sound of her own blood spluttering out of her lungs, vomiting it all over her wrinkled and shredded Shihakusho. With the burning force of her anger, Lyvalaea’s words digged into her insides like long, sharp claws, embracing her tender heart only to violently rip her out of the deep slumber she’d fallen into. It should have been her last one, but the fiery blonde had other plans for her once so beloved friend.

Seryu only needed a moment to understand. To realize. To act.

It was almost as if a subconscious mind of Seryu Akamine had formed and now began to control her body. Her feelings affected her physical condition, it even went as far as possessing her now weakened physique. Her mind was seemingly unclear, but her heart--literally speaking--bled, burned, died,

- and pulled her into one direction: his.

As if it knew where to go, as if it knew what was right, as if it was able to think independently now, that was how strong she felt for him. Seryu’s eyes flickered and she turned her head slightly to the right until she was able to see them fight. Her vision was blurred but she needed nothing more than their shadows to locate them. They were bouncing around, moving quickly, violently slashing at each other, and the moment her throat cleared Seryu began to heal herself as much as she could, knowing that she wouldn’t do it. She made a decision, a voice whispered somewhere within the depths of her mind and even though she was so far away, Seryu understood what Asura was trying to tell her. And I made mine.

Lyvalaea had chosen Nagisa. Why? That was beyond the young Lieutenant.

Seryu failed to understand what could possibly be the reason that lead Lyvalaea to believe that there was still something worth saving. She did, however, understand that she decided to save what was important to her, and she’d gladly murder everyone who’d get in her way. Be it Nagisa. Or Lyvalaea. Or the rest of the world. She could never make enough sacrifices to come up to the cost of his life.

Everything lost its worth if he was gone and Seryu wouldn’t allow that to happen.

She’d been through this before, selflessness was no longer an option. Within an instant, she gathered just as much Reiatsu as she could bring up in her poor state and instead of healing her wounds, Seryu simply numbed the pain. A simple tactic that prove its worth in situations like these. She didn’t care what happened to her body as long as she could move around freely and speak. For a while, at least.

And as the pain faded anger took its place.

“I choose my life,” Seryu spoke, carefully pulling herself into a seated position. Her face turned around ever so slightly and for a moment their eyes locked. “I choose my life because he is my life! And never in a lifetime did I think that you would betray me like this.” Her voice was shaking now, slowly growing louder and more aggressive until Seryu leaned over and wrapped her fingers around the girl’s neck, pressing it together until Lyvalaea’d lost her voice. “I have done fucking everything to show you that she’s a monster and yet here you stand, refusing to help me because you know her but you don’t know him?!” She was yelling now, pushing her back until the surface of Lyvalaea’s skull met with the bark of the tree.

“I don’t need more traitors in my life. I am so fucking done with you all. I can’t see your fucking face anymore, your stupid hair and the shitty attitude you put up around me. If you’re not going to help me, just die already. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY!!!” The Akamine was in a trance now, violently smashing her friend’s head against the tree, over and over again until Lyvalaea stopped moving, constantly screaming at her until her body became but a mere lump of flesh. Without remorse, Seryu dropped the lifeless creature to the ground and turned back around, reaching out to her blade that didn’t lay far from her. Her finger’s embraced the cold hilt and just like that, Asura was back with her again.

One word, she begged, say my name and it will all be over.
Even if it costs my life? One step after another, she moved forward.
Even if it costs your life. Because you’ve made your decision.

Seryu’s grip around the hilt tightened and she pulled out the blade.

Asura was right. She made her decision. And she chose to save the only life that still mattered to her beside her own. The only life she could save right now. She knew he’d be alright, because he wore the bracelet. She would forever protect him from anything that meant harm and the witch would finally cease to exist.

“BAN-”

And before Seryu knew what was happening, an invisible force enveloped her body and tore her to the ground.

OOC: Next turn is TK, sorry Wey! *sticks tongue out* :3

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