Stars of Orion - Spectating When Stars Shatter

An ink bottle stood in the left corner of the oaken table, spread all around it were sheets of paper with no particular order to them. Some of the words that were written on the yellowish paper were visible because of the weak, seemingly twinkling light of the oil lamp whose other side was protected by two bright green apples. All of it was covered with a thick layer of dust and neatly framed between four thin pieces of black painted wood. Attracted by the green, Kasumi traced one of the apples with her index finger. She cautiously cleaned the flaky surface off. That was more than enough for the oils beneath to become even more prominent compared to the rest of the painting. Leaning back she continued to stare at the painting for a couple more minutes before turning her attention to the book in front of her. Detailed advanced spells including their incantations and the way they looked made up ninety percent of the tome. The other ten percent was filled with names of the ones who had meant anything in Soul Society's Bakudō history. If you asked Kasumi that part was completely unnecessary. It was just so irrelevant to the learning process. They should have added that to the history books instead.

It was then, right when she was about to turn the page, that she knew that something was wrong. The loud crashing noise pulled her attention, and she was already on her feet when Kiriko's presence flooded the Seconds grounds. Fire and ice mixed into something divine, something otherworldly. The reiatsu signature was unmistakable even if Kasumi had never before come into touch with its true form. To Kasumi it sketched a picture of both hope and pain. Not because it represented it but because that's what the girl felt when sensing it. Her heart drop she ran towards the window. Her legs felt heavy as if her sandals were made out of lead, and every step that she took cost her more effort than it should have had. Damn it. She couldn't see a thing from here, the Annex was on the other side – the one that didn't have any windows. Annoyed, and scared, Kasumi quickly ran down the stairs and onto the moonlit street. The Captain's reiatsu flared again – or had she just imagined that? Feeling herself getting nauseous she watched a couple of Second division members Shunpo past her into the direction of the pond. Without wasting any time she joined them, and soon came to a stop behind a row of men that appeared to be ready to attack but didn't. From her point of view it seemed as if they were waiting for something, or rather, someone. Trying to push one of the men aside she angrily shoved him in the ribs when he shook his head 'no'.

“Orders.”

He barked quietly and got back into his previous position. Any other day she would have yelled at him, pushed him hard. Perhaps even kicked him with enough force to cause him to fall. But orders were orders. If what he implied was true then Kiriko had been the one to give them.

Cursing her height she gritted her teeth and propelled herself onto a nearby roof to get a better look at whatever was going on. The first thing that her eyes noticed were the rubble that the once beautiful Annex now was. Its mere sight caused a wave of anger to rush through her veins. Soon the fire was replaced with a cold feeling of dread. It took her brain a couple of seconds to process that if something would have happened to Kiriko then she wouldn't be standing a couple of yards away from the rubble looking perfectly fine. Following the woman's gaze Kasumi saw the one who, presumably, was responsible for this mess. He seemed to be bleeding but she wasn't sure because the moonlight wasn't enough for her to see him clearly. With furrowing eyebrows she felt her anger rise again. Who the hell did he think th-?

'Is that a haori?'

Vör's cool voice ripped through Kasumi's fury, directing her attention at the white cape. Why in the world would a Captain attack another Captain's residence? Or another Captain for that matter? Nothing here made any sense! She wanted to jump from the roof, close the gap between her and the man and kick him really really hard. Her muscles tightened. She could feel them burn and ache as she tried to stay still and watch. The two Captains were talking about something. Perhaps this was some sick joke? While she didn't see Kiriko as someone who would think that destroying the Annex was funny, she couldn't imagine that the woman would kill another Shinigami for something so materialistic. He would simply have to pay for it, and probably explain his retarded reasoning.

Though, what if this wasn't a farce? What if this was a real fight? And judging by the way Kiriko's Shunkō clung to her very being it looked like the latter thought might be a more probable one than the first one was. The technique's beauty almost caused Kasumi's mind to sidetrack but the pain of her own nails digging into the palm of her hands rapidly brought her back to reality. The nauseousness returned tenfold. Captains weren't supposed to fight! The panic hit her again followed by the urge to cause the man some great pain, to watch him suffer. She wanted to break his bones one by one, wanted to tear his skin off and burn his flesh away with Shunkō. Then, when he would be dead, she would spit on his bloody remains.

'Calm down.'

It hurt to breathe. She felt her hands shake harder as she tried to reign in her sudden hate towards the stranger. Pressing her hands against her temples she took a deep breath while ignoring the sharp pain in her chest. Kiriko was strong. She was the Captain Commander for a reason! It wasn't really helping. The energy was quickly building beneath her skin, ready to burst at the slightest sign of Kiriko needing someone's help.

'She won't need your help. Look over there, Nagisa is patiently watching too.'

Letting out a little whine because of her frustration Kasumi covered the distance between the roofs and easily landed next to the younger Chinda. Their previous encounters had been.. odd. Though, neither of them appeared to hate the other. Tearing her eyes from the battlefield, she stole a glance from the dark haired woman on her right side. The red scarf that she was wearing danced in the wind.

“Nagisa-san,”

As the red obscured Nagisa from view due to a gust of wind Kasumi automatically grabbed it. The sizzling sound of Kidō coming free from her fingertips and burning five little holes in the red fabric was barely audible. She was too tensed about the whole situation to be able to control the energy that lurked right beneath the surface of her skin. Letting go of the scarf she watched the wind take it for itself again. Perhaps Nagisa hadn't even noticed it the 'fingerprints'.

“what's going on here? Is that the Fourths Captain?”

She cracked, spitting the words out as if they were dirt. Never before had she felt so much loathing towards a living being. Never. That's why this new feeling thrilled her in more than one way, and she wasn't sure if she disliked it or not.


Words: 1255 – GP 25

Trepidation was not a word to throw around lightly. But he couldn’t not be there, not after everything he had been through. Not after everything Shun had been through, was going through, was about to continue going through. Despite the intense anxiety today had been storing up for Kiriko’s former Lieutenant he would show his face as he promised he would. He would be there, at the fight. Not for Kiriko, not for Shun, and certainly not for the haori he wore. Not for anyone or anything else except himself.

They had all bled more than their fair share for the reckoning that was unfolding in front of them, perhaps Kiriko most of all. But as Tokiyo approached the overlook near the Command Annex and felt the faint light of Shun’s reiatsu being swallowed, eclipsed, by Captain Commander Kiriko’s sheer might he immediately knew that there was plenty of red liquid yet to spill.

Yet as the field was coming into view, easily spotted by the pluming smoke and spiritual fire, the brightness of their clash was not enough to wash out a pair of dangerously interested spectators. One such witness was Kiriko Chinda’s young sister, Nagisa, the blooming Lieutenant of the Fifth who had recently been revealed as the newly minted ‘head’ of a special task force in the First.

Near the Vizard was a curiously bright little star in her own right, a mouse of a Shinigami he had seen only a few times before, Kasumi Shinoda.

The two of them, Nagisa and Kasumi, were much closer than he expected any intelligent spectator to be, but this sort of interest could be expected and excused by a blood relative, as strange and strained as their relationship was rumored to be. Nagisa, just truly coming into her own, was a welcomed site to the quickly approaching Captain. Why concern himself with one of Kiriko’s cheerleaders? If Shun were ever to succeed at felling the Commander, the rumors of Nagisa’s brash tactics left no doubt to Tokiyo that she would strike should she see either the right opening, or be blinded by the right level of rage. She was, after all, afflicted.

The Captain’s tabi slapped down onto the tiles behind them, the whipping of the wind and the roaring of reiatsu from the not-distant-enough battle obscuring any practical sound. Nagisa wouldn’t need to hear him to know he was there.

He kept a respectful distance as the pair looked on to the spectacle, and what a grand one it was! Kiriko’s glorious aura of Shunko, the beautiful, amethyst waves of raw power rippling outward for what must have been miles, sloshing around the Seireitei like a flash flood. Even this far out they were not immune, and despite Tokiyo’s own strength, he too felt the knots in his stomach and the oppressive pressure pushing down on his chest and shoulders.

It was rude of him to eavesdrop, but it would have been even more rude for him to interrupt the color commentary of the invested Shinigami before him. He would wait his turn, hoping that they saw him. That between the haze and the smoke and the fire even Kiriko and Shun could see him and know that he was there. And know that he wasn’t there for support, or to help. But to see this finished, one way or another.

Word count // 564 = 11 || 11

There were certain things any sane person just didn’t miss if it was within their ability to be present. A Captain challenging the Captain Commander surely fell in the list of great events, right?

Well, maybe not exactly. At least, not in Miyuki’s book. Something as petty as fighting for a rank seemed downright idiotic to the Recruit, so why would she bother to be interested? After all, wasn’t she the one who preached compassion and unity over arrogance and conflict?

In this case, it wasn’t a matter of what was happening, but rather who was present. At first, all Miyuki could feel was the overwhelming weight of Chinda’s pressure--a force she hoped she’d never, ever be on the receiving end of. Captain Commander Chinda was everything Miyuki was not--cruel, distant, and clearly not fit for any sort of leadership position, but at the same time, she had looked after Miyuki--whatever that meant. It was her orders that Miyuki be brought to her people, her orders that Miyuki be instantly assigned a division.

She supposed on some level, Chinda had to care about the lost girl, though the Tsundere blinded any hope of an actual relationship.

But as Miyuki stepped closer to the Annex, she felt the all the all too familiar tickle of Captain Minamoto’s Reiatsu desperately trying to hold it’s own against force bearing down on it. That was when Miyuki started to hurry to the over look. Only when she saw the backs of Captain Fujikagi, Kasumi, and an unknown woman did Miyuki slow to a casual walk. If Kasumi hadn’t been talking, Miyuki would have went straight to her side.

“Captain,” she bowed to the man, her eyes pinned on the tension below. “When, officially, did Shun--erm, Captain Minamoto--lose his mind?” Her words were soft, just loud enough to be heard over the chaos below.

Her words seemed to draw the attention of the other girls, Kasumi’s face lighting up with recognition when she found Miyuki’s stare. At least there was a friend here to make it a little easier. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to break out into tears in front of her Captain?

“Who challenged who and why?” The question was for anyone with an answer, her eyes shifting between all of the people.

The roar of static cut into the meek conversation, engulfing the area in a bright light of deadly Shunko. The angle wasn’t exactly the best and the light was bright enough to make everything a bit too hazy to make out. Just the black figure of Shun barely dancing out of the way and Chinda’s form coming to a stop where he had been.

She sure was slow, now that Miyuki actually saw her move. Was she even trying? Maybe they were just sparring for fun, or perhaps Chinda wasn’t interested in humoring Shun. Either way, it was hard to tell with the emotionless expression of the Captain Commander. The only one giving hints about the severity of the situation was the Captain, though even he found the time to joke around.

“This isn’t a fight to the death, right?” Another question for anyone more in the know than her. “I mean… Captain Commander Chinda surely wouldn’t mess around with anyone unless it was just a spar, right?”

[551. 11]

She stood amongst the black clad shadows, her Academy uniform an ugly reminder of just how misplaced she was. And yet none of the Second Division had eyes for her, used to her ghost-like presence amongst their ranks and far more concerned with their Captain’s fight than the lingering eyes of one of Kiriko’s wayward toys. Hanabi had come early tonight, for a meeting she had been dreading ever since the message had arrived two days ago in the dark of night. Sometimes she wanted to laugh at Kiriko’s sense of drama, sending her minions off to bother Hanabi in the middle of the night and calling secret meetings at midnight, but it was hard to laugh at a woman who controlled every aspect of your life and could actually enforce such timelines as a mere example of her power over you.

So she had come, fighting back the yawns and the ache in her muscles from her early morning practices, but nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of the Captain Commander’s reiatsu washing across the Seireitei and the sight of so many soldiers standing silent and at attention. Being short she had had to rely on her ability to pick up the meager whispers, most of the men too controlled or too awed to start gossiping right now, but as the purple light of Kiriko’s famed Shunko flared the young student spotted a cluster of familiar faces upon a nearby building.

Squeezing through the crowd she made her way closer, apologizing adroitly to anyone she jostled too harshly. The sight of Shinoda-san and Wakahisa-san was somewhat reassuring, because now she was not the only misplaced soul spying on a fight so far out of her league. As she hopped closer, scaling the side of the building as best she could, her old classmates shifted and Hanabi spotted Nagi-chan. The Lieutenant’s eyes were pinned to the fight, her gaze never moving from its intense focus on the two combatants.

Hanabi hesitated, one hand lifting as if to reach out for the other girl, but then she flinched back and shuffled to the opposite side. This was not really her Nagi-chan, and she did not want to disturb a higher ranking official. Making her way towards Wakahisa-san, she glanced nervously at the white Captain’s haori beside the other girl. Kiriko had been more than happy to fill her head with stories about Fujikagi Tokiyo, usually on days when the other woman felt particularly slighted. Hanabi, by virtue of her disregard for anything Kiriko said, rather believed that the Third’s Captain looked stern and trustworthy in spite of those lectures, and she ducked down between him and Wakahisa-san just in time to hear the girl’s question.

Peering out across the rooftop towards the demolished Annex and the frozen tableau of a fight, Hanabi shivered. The sight of that monster, standing tall in all her glory with the flames of her Shunko licking the air like some carnivorous pet, filled her with a deep and unholy dread. That was the face of her nightmares, the woman who had taken everything from her. Even her name.

Hanabi wrapped her arms tight around herself, the pressure doing nothing to wade off her rising panic. “She hates him,” she whispered, the wind whipping at her words but leaving them strong enough to spread. “The Captain of the Fourth, I mean,” Hanabi glanced sideways at Wakahisa-san as she spoke. She knew she shouldn’t say a word, certainly not around Kiriko’s enemies, but the scene was too much to keep silent. “If she had a chance to kill him… She would take it.” And laugh. But Hanabi kept that thought to herself, certain that everyone here probably already knew it.

WC: 624 | GP: 12 | Total GP: 12

There was something about the oppressive burning that lingered in the back of his throat that drew him in like a fly to honey. For a brief terrifying instant Robert had mistaken it for the sensation of being in Erasmus' presence, and there was something different about this sensation, something he couldn't place. Whatever it was, it was new, and despite his better judgement he simply couldn't resist checking it out.

The trip from the third division to the second division annex was a short one, and Robert flickered to a halt among the sea of spectators just in time to hear Hanabi's anxious murmur. It didn't take long to figure out what was going on, although why it was happening was a completely different question. Had Shun and Kiriko had a personal disagreement, or was this a challenge for her position? He didn't know either of them well enough to comment, but the sight of watching Shun Minamoto run for his life was entertaining regardless, and watching him die would be even sweeter.

"Good." He placed his hand firmly on Hanabi's shoulder and gave her a half smile. "He drew his sword against the Captain Commander, it's her right to strike him down."

Robert's eye flicked from his student to the crowd surrounding them. Most faces were strangers to him, but Nagisa and Tokiyo stood out like sore thumbs. He really didn't know enough about Nagisa or how she would react to this. If Shun somehow managed to get the upper hand, would she interfere? If she did and someone tried to stop her, the entire crowd could implode on itself.

The last thing they needed was a riot.

Tokiyo was another matter entirely. He cared for Shun, that much was beyond question, but would he save his life? Was he loyal to the Seireitei, or to his friends? Despite their relative closeness, Robert couldn't make so much as an educated guess. There were too many variables, too much left unanswered. Even watching the fight was a risk, as Shun's ranged tactics meant Kiriko was likely to respond with long distance attacks that could head towards the mob of spectators. There was too much happening to keep track of all at once. 

He'd have to use it.

"Tokiyo, a word." He gave Hanabi a final pat on the shoulder before appearing next to Tokiyo with a flicker, his hand gripping his cane sword tight. "None of us should be this close to a fight of this caliber. There's likely to be spill-over from the attacks, and when it happens this crowd will be at risk. We need to safeguard them. So, I'll let you know if such an attack is coming, and you can block it."


As he spoke the command, warm light enveloped Robert's cane and in an instant it morphed, crushing in on itself as it shrunk down to a sleek steel revolver. He tucked the firearm back into his sash and peeled his eye patch back. Robert spoke a simple command, and the dead lens found life once more. He took a knee and stared down at the fighting pair, a soft smile forming on his face as he caught a glimpse of what was to follow.

There was a certain kind of violence in the air that came with a Broken fighting. Part of the universe rebelled against it. If you were on the lookout for it, if you were watching for the ripples of reiatsu in the void between worlds, it was possible to spot.

So it was because of that that a new visitor, a young Shinigami in uniform, took up a spot on a building in the Second and looked toward the fight between Kiriko and Shun. He was middle aged, with blond hair and stormy gray eyes, but that was only who he was on the surface. If one was interested in looking at the reiatsu, they would find a relatively weak Shinigami sitting there watching with fear and interest. But in the end, that was only what was on the surface.

Underneath the surface, Takua sat in a Gigai and watched a fight between a monster and a reaper.

Of all of the things that he'd expected, Shun challenging one of the Broken to a fight hadn't actually been one of them. Oh, sure, he was arrogant and proud enough to do it. He'd also grown a touch since the last time Takua had seen him, no surprise there. But apparently the threat that a Broken posed to his precious Gotei had motivated him into action despite the massive difference between their abilities. To some end Takua could appreciate that, but for the most part he just wanted to watch the man go flying through the air.

The remainder of him, the part of him that didn't care about his personal acquaintance with the Minamoto, wondered if he really would be able to deal with one of the Broken. Oh the man was tricky, yes. What with his elongated Bakudo chants and a sword that phased itself out of this dimension to avoid being blocked on the way to the target. Assuming that Kiriko had anywhere, anywhere close to a balanced set of powers and wasn't simply an overpowered wall of spiritual might without the focus needed for it, the man was fucked.

Which left, of course, the woman. The monster who overlaid her reiatsu across all of the Seireitei even if these fools didn't know it. Tokiyo would, and Takua also saw him watching the fight...probably to prevent anyone from joining in on Kiriko's side. Or maybe even Shun's. The man would have come in here with a plan to take her out, the question was how swiftly and harshly reality would deviate from those plans and if Kiriko was actually versed enough in combat to take care of the challenge to her authority.

Speaking of which, Shun still really loved to talk.

...which probably meant he was pulling his old tricks again. This time Takua was watching the reiryoku in the air, looking for anything that had already been claimed by the Captain to be used against the Commander. There was an awful lot of reiryoku in the air, and most of it had been put there by Kiriko. Merely looking at the Shunko aura she had encased herself with was enough to give Takua glare in the Eye of Infinity, something that had never happened before. It was a blinding, searing presence and one he could barely even begin to understand at all. Whoever she was, she had taken Shunko to such an incredible, insane end point that there was no understanding it at all. That was terrifying, and the former Espada shuddered to think of what she might do with it once she hit the body.

So far though, she didn't seem to be able to actually catch up to and hit the honestly slow Captain. Takua wouldn't have needed to flash step at all to keep up with him, but Kiriko didn't seem to be able to. Was she just utterly incapable of it?

That one of the Broken would have such an incredible weakness seemed impossible. Unless it really just was that she couldn't do it at all, some kind of...inability or such, why would they ever leave themselves with a weakness like that? Maybe she had thought that she just couldn't be touched regardless and that her enemies would come to her. If Takua had been fighting her, she wouldn't have even gotten close to him while he peppered her with Cero. Problem was, she could probably punch each and every last one of those Cero away...mmm, maybe with wildfire then?

Regardless of all that though, this was clearly a fight to determine who would lead Seireitei. And there were problems with that if she lost.

Takua couldn't deny, though, that he'd approve if another one of the Broken left. Maybe this one wasn't so bad, but Takua's personal experience guessed otherwise.

Amusing in a way. To assume the same of her as everyone had once assumed the same of him simply because he was a Hollow.

WC: 823 | GP: 16 | Total: 16

Moth to flame.

Irresistible and called by something deeper than she wanted to acknowledge, the unyielding presence holding Seireitei by an iron fist-- the explosions that rocked the compound and the slow burn of fury that bubbled beneath the surface-- was why she was there rather than lying low in the outskirts that lay in haphazard shambles and patches of neat homes outside the tall walls of the city proper.

Arrogant voice, arrogant words from a man who had no clue as to the depth of power that stood before him-- and her eyes watched the beginning proceedings from somewhere near the third or fourth 'row' to ensure she had a good look at the combatants. The woman was the culprit, and she had no desire to be caught anywhere close to soon. Not unprepared, not without a solid plan and an even better escape route that could not be tracked.

That woman, Chinda Kiriko, was the fury she worried about more than the bold words of a man-- Minamoto and she had failed to catch his first name.

Suppressed to nothingness, she was an absence, a small void in the large crowd gathering, and witnessed to an event that send her blood running cold and the pressure of an inescapable truth bubbling up her throat like hot, sour bile. Sank further, further down as the clash began and retreated further into the crowd, further away from the place where two completely opposing worlds were going to collide-- and one would end up regretting their actions by the end of it.

If the man even lived long enough, not to mention lived through this mistake, to understand what regret felt like.

A figure on the rooftop caught her eye on her way out, instinct giving way to curiosity as she waited. Watched-- and caught the sign she was looking for. Would have thought him just another Shinigami until he had shifted his weight to one side and placed two fingers against his temples as if tapping something that should have been there. Paused, glanced at his hand with a frown, and then returned his gaze to the fight.

Speaking of arrogance and foolish decisions that one would very likely come to regret...

Her hands were against the fence leaning against the house before she knew what she was doing. Climbed higher, higher and swung herself up easily on to the roof top and slipped behind the disguised Arrancar while he was transfixed on the fight. Waited a brief moment, the sudden urge to scare him almost overwhelming.

She could annihilate him so he couldn't make any further mistakes, to grant him the death he always dreamed of was there within her grasp. He was trapped. Stuck. And he wouldn't be able to flee without calling a lot of attention to himself there on the spot.

His life was in her hands and he was at her mercy.

A murmur of contentment and vicious condescension from the presence lurking deep within her soul. So superior with his teacher mentality, and look at him now. So open that I might as well take his head and purify him. Her hand was over her chest in that moment, fingers seemingly sinking in deep in preparation to draw the weapon from the depths of her soul.

Sending the dead man with his burdens, releasing him from the sins of his life back to the cycle where he should have been over eight hundred years ago. It would be easy... it would be so easy...



Her hand stilled, fingers withdrawing as the woman's voice penetrated her thoughts and threw her from the hypnotic lure of putting blade through false flesh. Shuddered and slipped quietly off to the side and dropped herself to his left, roughly five arm length's away, with a rather undignified plop. "You should know better than to drop your guard in enemy territory." Similar words to the words he had used on her back in Las Noches' training quarters, her scarlet eyes remained on the battlefield. A small, dimly glowing crystalline figure pulled itself from the collar of her kimono and dropped to settle between them-- the voices, distant as they were from their vantage point, suddenly clearer than before thanks to the magnification provided by a shard of Asgard she'd quietly sent to observe the proceedings from the front lines.

Who would notice a harmless little hunk of crystal, after all?

"Shinigami and whatever she is," a gesture at Kiriko. "they certainly like to talk, don't they?"

Stopped, expression frozen as she counted the number of brighter stars among the dimly lit masses below. Narrowed her focus.

Hi-to.

Another just barely beneath him who felt so similar to Karaudo-san that it must have been the one she was looking for.

That idiot on the battlefield-- several similar to him, including one woman she recognized very well and was incredibly angry at the proceeding events. She'd have to find that one later and sit her down for a talk about stabbing people properly and not doing something illegal enough to get the both of them killed for her stupidity.

Dimmer lights-- ahh, Akamine-san and-- oh no.

Rania-san.

Pain twisted in her chest. Erasmus as not going to be happy to learn of the woman he loved now resonating as a Shinigami. So she had been killed and purified after all.

Kept searching, looking for the familiar. Looking for anyone who was stronger than the man fighting someone so far outside his class it was laughable--

Wakahisa-san?

No, it couldn't be. It couldn't--!

”Do you think this is some kind of sick joke? She never came home!” Angry doors slammed shut in the memory. Voice thick with tears.

Her eyes left the battlefield and settled in the direction she had felt the woman's presence-- her Shinigami energy-- lingering at with dread pooling in an icy lump within her stomach and veins.

No.

No.

Why?!

–
WC: 1003
GP: 20

They had been there for a while by the time Shun had finally arrived at the Annex. Knowledge had figured out Shun Minamoto’s intentions before Shun himself was aware of them, and Wish had easily plucked the time and place out of the Shinigami’s head. Truth had contented himself with setting the stage, in his own words. Knowledge had laughed at that, and Wish had smiled knowingly. High above they stood, until Truth had decided to materialize seating and shift the local gravity a tiny bit, giving them a very clear and comfortable vantage point. Out of the three of them, only Knowledge had brought something to eat. He had asked the others, of course, but they had politely declined. Their loss.

So they had waited, waited long enough to watch Kiriko Chinda leave the Annex to watch the moon bathing in the koi pond (had it been free will, or an idea planted by Knowledge? He said nothing, eyes twinkling, but Truth had his suspicions), narrowly avoiding the sickening crunch of the kidō demolishing the Command Annex. The sight had brought Knowledge’s hand to a standstill in the middle of bringing his fork to his mouth, as if he had seen something that made him lose his appetite. Truth watched him put the fork down in disgust, a comforting word on the tip of his tongue, but Knowledge grimaced, muttered something about it being ‘wholly unnecessary’ and then kept eating. Truth rolled his eyes, but Wish leaned forward in interest.

‘Look,’ he said, pointing at the gathering of people. ‘The peanuts are starting to fill up their gallery.’
‘So they are,’ remarked Truth, and Knowledge grumbled.
‘Cheer up, Knowledge,’ said his dark-haired companion. ‘You’re not you when you’re in a bad mood.’
‘I really liked that building, and your plaything has just ruined it.’
‘He’s not my plaything, he’s—’ but his voice faltered when both Wish and Knowledge turned very deliberately to him in order to give him disbelieving looks.
‘Look, I—’
Wish interrupted him. ‘Where’s the girl?’
Knowledge replied, never looking away from Truth. ‘On earth,’ he said, ‘looking for the brother.’
‘Ah,’ smiled Wish. ‘I take it she doesn’t know.’
‘Nope.’ Another bite.

The scene unfolded beneath them as the combatants clashed once or twice, and they were silent until Wish finally spoke.
‘He’s rather chatty, isn’t he?’
‘I was thinking the same thing,’ said Knowledge. ‘Was he always like that?’
Truth simply shrugged. ‘I didn’t pick him for his diction.’
‘Are you saying you never noticed? I mean, does the guy actually shut up?’
Truth looked at Knowledge, a glint in his emerald eyes. ‘Reminds me of someone else.’
Knowledge laughed and lightly shoved his elbow into Truth’s ribs. ‘You picking a fight, friend?’
‘I’m merely speaking the Truth.’
‘I Know.’
‘I Wish you two would shut up so I could watch this in peace.’
Knowledge turned to stick his tongue out at Wish who couldn’t help but chuckle, but then they fell silent again, the soft clink of a fork on porcelain the only noise any of them were making.

This time, Truth was the one to break the stillness. ‘Shunkō seems nice,’ he said.
‘Very,’ agreed Wish.
Knowledge made a disapproving sound at the back of his throat. ‘Yeah, but her form’s off. Look,’ he said, pointing at Kiriko with his fork. ‘There. She shouldn’t be doing that. She knows better, too. Almost looks like she’s throwing.’
‘Looks like? You don’t know?’ Truth gave him a critical look.
‘She’s a lady; I’m respecting her privacy.’
‘Oh, I see. Would you like me to make you a fedora?’
‘Kill yourself, Truth.’
Wish shook his head with a smile on his face. ‘You two are absolutely hopeless.’
‘Yeah, whatever. Who’s down there, anyway?’ Knowledge peered at the audience. ‘Oh, there’s Nagisa and Tokiyo. Don’t see the slut or the flunky, though. Funny, didn’t expect either of them to miss this. Oh, even Takua made it, that’s nice. Remind me later, I need to go speak to him.’
‘About what?’ asked Truth, suddenly frowning, eyeing Knowledge suspiciously.
‘This and that,’ he replied secretively, and then—‘Goodness, has that one actually just released his Shikai? What possible good does he think that will do?’ he scoffed.
‘Maybe he thinks it will help. What you don’t know can’t hurt you,’ said Wish, deciding to let his attention wander from the fight. Shun’s platitudes and Kiriko’s refusal to admit to her faults was beginning to bore him. He was flighty like that sometimes—he cared more about the people fighting than the fight itself. He knew what both of them were after and didn’t really need to see them yammer on about it.

Truth, on the other hand, had suddenly given the clash his full attention. They were reaching the moment he had been waiting for, and he touched Knowledge’s shoulder to redirect his attention from the crowd back to the fight.
‘Look,’ he breathed, frowning again, motioning toward the Shinigami.
Below, the newest captain was preparing something, and Knowledge narrowed his eyes. ‘Ah,’ he murmured in reply as it finally unleashed, barreling straight at Kiriko. ‘He ought to be careful with that,’ he said, absentmindedly thumbing his ring. ‘That can get him into a lot of trouble if he’s not careful.’ Secretly, he was pleased Kiriko had blocked it, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding back. Worse still, their conversation—such as it was—left him feeling a little...

Well, lost.

‘No, not that. Don’t you feel it?’ There was an edge in Truth’s voice, an undercurrent of something that Knowledge couldn’t quite place.
Wish gave him a sidelong glance. ‘Feel what?’ he asked.
‘Something’s not right.’
‘What, you don’t think—’ began Knowledge with a smile, but he stopped his sentence halfway, his smile drooping.
Wish finally seemed to understand. He leaned back, uncrossing his legs. Knowledge set his fork down very deliberately and lowered the plate to his lap.

Together, the three of them looked on in deathly silence.

A mile away, and yet it still felt like a front row seat.

The column of light was blinding, even at that range. His spiritual senses were so overwhelmed he had to stop and wait. Had it been a few months ago there was no question who he'd be rooting for. But since his last talk with Kiriko, the blindfolded Kionchi found himself rooting for the man who won over his loyalty with his zanpaktou. There was still a fearsome beauty in the Captain of the Second, but she was anything but the scion of perfection he'd worshiped before. To be honest, the whole fight felt like a bit of a setup. Enough of one that he'd rather leave Munin to record the battle up close and use the distraction to deal with more pertinent issues.

A smile crossed his lips as his finger stroked the leather collar around his throat. No matter how much he'd changed, he was still hopelessly bound to the Gotei. A bond he was determined to exploit without ever again rejecting his own heart. And yet here he was, preparing to execute the shinigami he'd been so proud to call his charge while the bitch who gave him orders went off to defend her position. It wasn't that he'd follow her orders even if it meant his execution. But the fight gave him the perfect opportunity to slip away.

He'd have to remember to thank Shun for the distraction. It'd be a pity to just leave a flower at his grave.

WC: 255; GP: 5; TGP: 5

This far away from the fight all she could make out were the explosions. A wall of cascading flame had snapped up around the two combatants, pierced here and there by pillars of light. Now purple, then white. Each time the pressure built, Penance’s aura whipping through the air even across such a great distance. Hanabi huddled deeper into her sleeves, rubbing her palms against her arms as if she could bring some heat back into her icy limbs. Her skin crawled, but she kept watching, trying to peer past the screen of kido and shunko into the real battle.

Hope scrabbled at her throat, caught up tight like she was too afraid to unbottle it and still she stared. Could this be her chance? She didn’t know much about Minamoto-taichou, the Captain of the Fourth, he was relatively new and her interest in that division had never been high. Still from what little she had seen he seemed to be holding his own against Kiriko, or really it was more that Kiriko seemed to not want to put all her cards on the table yet. Again and again the woman was ignoring clear openings, and from her vantage point the Academy student couldn’t see the Captain Commander’s eyes but she already knew what they would look like.

That glazed sleepy stare. Everyone else was confused, the murmurs creeping out as the battle dragged on, but Hanabi understood instinctively what Kiriko was doing. Holding back, waiting, pressing at the edges. Because it wasn’t enough to kill an opponent, she had to make them want to die first, make them beg for the strike so that when it finally came it was something like relief. That was the only way to soothe the monster’s ravenous anger, and Minamoto wasn’t playing along.

Even Tsukiyo-dono, someone who Hanabi believed held many if not most of the answers in this world, hadn’t the power to ignore Kiriko’s games. It felt nearly fantastical to observe something like this, a scene cast in shadow as one lone Captain stood up to the biggest nightmare in all of Seireitei. Against her biggest nightmare.

Hanabi’s fingers twisted beneath her sleeves, a silent prayer on her lips as she glanced to her companions. “Do… Do you think he can do it?” the words were a whisper, broken and scratched by her attempts to mask the hope that had been budding up all along. “Do you think he could kill her?” Soul King, please, if she had ever asked for anything before this one thing would be the last.

As the bindings went up, the walls of the flame barrier flickered and died. A silver arc split the air, Minamoto on a path for Kiriko’s skull. Hanabi never even blinked, a trembling appeal on her lips. ”Please.

WC: 467 | GP: 9 | Total GP: 21

Papers fluttered in the wind, a book of Kido fluttering in the storm. Munin was reading with utmost care, even as the thunder raged before it.

The thunder of the Captain Commander and the Captain of the Fourth.

Munin had never known Shun Minamoto. Nor had it ever known the elusive Chinda Kiriko. This was perhaps the first glimpse that the being had of either of them, and what a glimpse it was. A page was ripped from Munin’s text, sent flying by the sheer force that was invoked with every motion of the Captain Commander. Munin itself trembled, body shuddering in the overwhelming weight. Careful samples were taken, studied and examined. What did the other feel like? Seem like? It was the power of one that could cause a cataclysm, perhaps even greater than the one that had ravaged Karakura Town such a short time ago.

Even Munin’s Captain would be lucky to make it out alive. While Shun had power, the balance seemed fully in the Captain Commander’s favour. At least… that was what it felt like.

Another burst of power sent the book itself flying, and almost sent the artificial being into the building behind it. The readings were fascinating. The feeling of the Captain Commander’s was Shinigami, but not quite. Something tinged it, something that Munin could not place. But yet Munin loved it.
Loved it in it’s fullness.
Loved it in it’s power.
Loved it in how it called to his.

The speculation had begun as soon as the Captain Commander had engaged and Munin had felt the first wave of energy. Was this similar to its?

The picture hung in the back of Munin’s mind, taunting it. So close and yet so far, a taste of the real thing that failed to satisfy.

The Captain Commander was the closest thing, the closest thing to the fascinating being that was Knowledge.

Munin would not let it be alone.
Munin couldn’t, not with the taste of its nature all too close.

With every splash of reiatsu Kasumi felt her heart tremble. Lost in the nerve-wracking battle she tried to hold onto the thought that Kiriko was invincible, that nothing would ever be able to truly hurt her. As long as Kasumi would believe it, it would remain the truth. Lost in her inner turmoil she didn't realize that people had been gathering somewhere behind her and Nagisa until various voices started to seep through the haze of panic and anger, and went right into her mind. Tightly clenching her fists in an attempt to keep her raging emotions somewhat in check she turned around to face whoever was there. She recognized one immediately: Miyuki. Though, it took Kas a brief moment before she managed to smile towards her. The smile to her friend was obviously a little strained, but it was there regardless.

There were two others that deserved her smile as well, but she couldn't keep her lips curled up in a situation like this. The fear was too real, and the pressure coming from the battlefield was slowly driving her insane. She wanted to punch someone so badly that her muscles ached. Kasumi bit her lip till the metallic taste of blood was spreading over her tongue. Crooking her head to face the fight she couldn't believe her ears when Hanabi's whispers reached her. It was then that she could feel herself becoming numb on the inside. The bright light never reached her eyes because she had already turned her head back to stare at – what she had thought to be – her friend. A wave of disgust rocked through the young recruit and for a second she wanted to strangle Hanabi. The hatred was choking her, but she still managed to hiss the words.

“She won't die!”

Venomous syllables directed at the girl whose face had just lit up with hope at the worst thing that Kasumi could possibly imagine. Blinded by anger she dashed forward with her fists ready to strike. Her skin was burning. She felt the energy beneath it tug at her skin as it tried to free itself.

'Will you strike your friend when it's not even her fault that it has come to this?'

The cold of Vör's touch brought Kasumi to a halt right in front of the Academy student. Stumbling she slipped to a clumsy stop, unsure of what to do now. Unsure of what to do with this fury. She desperately searched Hanabi's face for some understanding. But all that she could see in the dark eyes of the girl was her own reflection – the reflection of a lunatic. Her eyes suddenly stung. It was time to go. Pushing off to the side Kasumi disappeared into the night with the aid of Shunpo.


Words: 462 – GP 9|| TGP 34
Edit*
Exit thread

‘That’s actually impossible,’ said Truth, the first to break their shocked silence.
‘Has there ever been a known case before?’ asked Knowledge.
‘A handful,’ he answered and shook his head. ‘That’s not the point. She’s too far gone; we weren’t prepared for this. There’s nothing organized.’
‘Nothing? At all?’ Wishes seemed the most shocked out of them all. ‘So if this goes south?’
They all shared a knowing glance. It didn’t happen often, of course, but they prepared for it for a reason. The lack thereof this time…

Truth bolted to his feet, ‘You two need to go back and get them. She’s a big one.’
‘Them? It was you two who visited me,’ asked Knowledge as he too got to his feet in a hurry—the plate and fork were nowhere to be found.
Wishes had already stood by the time Knowledge did, ‘You were a special case, Knowledge—as you so often are.’ Even now, he couldn’t resist.
‘Seriously, go.’ Truth’s insistence grew, an uncharacteristic hurry to his words. Wishes vanished, he knew just how important it was.
‘Yeah, well, I think I’ll pay Minamoto down there a visit first. Maybe buy us some time, if you know what I mean.’

In a flash, Truth moved in front of Knowledge. There was nothing hostile about it, he just wanted the man’s attention. None of them were stupid enough to be aggressive with one another, after all. But when Knowledge saw the atypically serious look in Truth’s eyes, he hesitated.

‘You know better,’ said Truth.
‘Yeah, bu—’ started Knowledge, only to be sharply interrupted. They both knew what he really wanted to do and why.
‘Remember the hospital?’
Knowledge closed his mouth and nodded. Truth smiled. ‘Just like floating up here in the air, or making us unnoticeable to everyone below, this is my thing more than it is yours. After all, you’ll be the most important part of the process once she makes it home with us.’
The got Knowledge’s attention and he tilted his head, clearly interested, ‘What makes you say that, Truth?’
The brown-haired man just smiled devilishly, ‘I think I’ll let you wonder for a while.’
Knowledge did enjoy being able to wonder; it happened so infrequently. He vanished a moment later.

‘But before I go too…’ Truth mumbled and looked over the shocked, eyes-forward crowd. There were quite a few notable faces down there, some of them even he knew. This event had brought more of them together than he had expected, yet another surprise to add to the list. Just like Knowledge, Truth very much enjoyed these days too.

In particular, though, it was a ‘pair’ of women—one of them present only through a magical instrument to transmit the day’s events—that had his attention. The one actually present had been a focus of his months and months now. After recent events, though, she had come to figure out more of her history much faster than Truth expected. The two of them would have to talk.

Before that, Truth wanted to have a little fun. Today had suddenly turned into a lot of work, after all, so he might as well enjoy himself a bit first.

He took a step forward, vanished in a blur of speed, and let go of the effect that concealed him from the world.

His foot came down next to Miyuki, one of the newest Shinigami, making sure to put himself right in the crystal’s line of sight. Truth placed a hand softly on her shoulder, so lightly that she’d hardly be able to feel it, and gave her lighter-haired friend a knowing wink that would be transmitted to her cozy spot with Tova's old friend. He could only imagine her response.

After all, what were the chances anyone would notice a little hunk of crystal?

‘We’ll talk later,’ he whispered just enough so only Miyuki could hear.

Then, just before he stepped away and vanished into the night sky, spoke normally enough that even their distant companion could hear.

‘I’ll be keeping your spot warm!’

There was something to be said for remembering your weaknesses. And, say, taking into consideration that while in a gigai he couldn't use his echolocation to see the world. Granted, for the most part there were few people who he couldn't detect anyways with his Pequisa...

But he knew that one of those people he couldn't detect was one who had at one point stated designs on his life. So, really, there was no excuse for his carelessness.

So it was rather understandable for the blind man to jump in shock and sudden swearing when Sekai abruptly plopped down next to him with absolutely no warning. He normally had permanent vision all around him and one of the best abilities to sense spiritual pressure in all three worlds. He was absolutely, one hundred percent, not used to someone being able to evade both of those and his preternaturally keen sense of hearing. But she was under a suppression he couldn't crack, his hearing was dampened by this gigai (note to self, change that) and his echolocation was unavailable.

For a long moment he just stared at her, open and surprised that she'd even managed to spot him at all in this gigai, and then sighed. If there was anyone who could spot him, it would be her. There shouldn't be too many who could tell that this was a gigai in the first place, but she just might be able to do that. And muscle memory was still the same, no matter what body he was in. He'd probably betrayed himself quite well with that absent minded finger tap...but only to her. Nobody else would be able to recognize those cues simply because the others who could were...

Well. They were both Shinigami now, and neither of them really had those kinds of memories. The only one left was Sekai.

Who now, quite possibly, had been considering what to do with a defenseless man she considered an enemy.

Finally Takua just shook his head and snorted gently in self-recrimination, “You're right, I should.” His voice was quiet, traveling only to the woman a who set down a crystalline shard between them. Voices and more came from it as it transformed into a pane, a little far-viewing fragment, and the former Espada's eyebrow raised.

An offering of peace. Not for anything beyond the moment once again, but a temporary truce as she talked about whatever was on her mind. About the fight in front of them that so clearly was set to define the path of Seireitei and maybe more than that. But she'd also clearly stated that this was enemy territory for him.

He might very well still have to consider her as a potential enemy then.

He'd expected as much.

Eyes back on the battlefield but with part of his awareness reserved for the woman on the roof, the Arrancar in disguise chuckled at her statement. “Shun likes to chatter away even more than the rest. I'm honestly not sure he knows how to shut up. And that's coming from me.” His self aware humor came with a smile there. Given how he could get sometimes, and in fact being just as bad, it was a mighty mark of condemnation. Her other words, however, made him realize that he'd never actually been able to tell her what the Broken were. She knew, of course, a good deal. But he'd never been able to tell her the name. “They call themselves Ascendants. Sovereigns. I call them Broken. It matches the state of their soul.” Which was a mighty fine thing to say coming from an Arrancar, but the statement was so quietly stated it held no room for dramatics.

Speaking of dramatics, it seemed that both Shun and Kiriko were quite happily engaged in both of those right now. Plenty, back and forth, but Shun seemed to be getting the upper hand in their little war of philosophy. Which was actually very odd. He knew how the Broken were, he'd only encountered three of them now. They simply didn't just...bend over and allow someone else to run roughshod over the very thing that they truly believed in. It just wasn't a thing that happened. They believed from the bottom of their soul in the rightness of their beliefs.

Takua frowned. She had to be playing right now. Pretending. But from what he was hearing, that wasn't the case, and it had to be.

Still though. He had to admit that Shun was giving a decent account for himself here. Using the power of his Bankai like he needed to. Takua's eyes were still drawn to the field of rods lying across the command annex though, wondering what kind of long term plan the man had in store.

“I don't actually know her name. Well, I do. It's Kiriko Chinda. But I don't actually know her name. Although I could guess...” It wouldn't be that hard to guess, what with their talk.

And then small talk was over, as Sekai finally voiced her worry at last. His smile died as Takua turned his face to her fully, watching the calm expression. That was a mask, no matter how good it was, he knew her better than to think she was actually calm about that. He needed no Pequisa to see the worry boiling over from inside of her soul, the Eye took care of that all on its own. He turned away, looking out at the crowd that had gathered before back at the viewing screen, “Nobody here, individually, is on par with Erasmus. Kiriko over there would pulp him though. He's got a lot of spiritual power can't use it as well as he should. She's a lot more skilled than that. If he didn't bend any of the people here to his service...combined they would probably be able to resist him.” He slowly shook his head, knowing he was about to bring up a touchy subject and yet unable to prevent himself from doing so. “But there's few in Las Noches of note after him unless Nazomi allies himself with him. Souta. Robert-”

Takua paused, feeling out the crowd and finding a reiatsu signature that he knew only because of its presence inside of Las Noches before he had left. A Shinigami that hadn't been Walkren but that had more than its share of power.   And a name that Erasmus had rather foolishly given him.  “Who I think is over there actually, next to Tokiyo- who's 'that man' by the way-, but probably works for Erasmus. Vaizard. Evelynn could become a threat but isn't really one now...not to us.” He shrugged, flicking his blind eyes back over to Sekai, “Nobody with...a soul that's...I guess evolved is the best way to put it. Seireitei has more of those, but you're right that they're not exactly able to go toe to toe with Erasmus. If he attacked, it'd be bad for them.” He gave her a look and then a small shake of the head. They really were weak without Kiriko in many ways. If Erasmus attacked, it'd be bad.

And in the end, Takua might just have to step in.

Her next words had him considering them for a moment and then lifting one hand palm up helplessly. It wasn't like she didn't have a point there...and then his eyes narrowed. From the sounds of it, she meant something different than just Erasmus. She'd said 'all races', which meant...

“Sekai, what do you mean? Prepared for what?”

The look on her face answered everything he needed to know about the gravity of her worries. As did her words, although Takua couldn't have given her an affirmative answer, and that bothered him.

But he didn't have time to anyways. He felt the change first, his attention slipping back to the fight and not a moment too soon. Shun had pulled his usual tricky bullshit with Bakudo, no surprise there, but Kiriko was...

The disguised Arrancar's mouth dropped open, and for just a moment he saw with a clarity that couldn't be taken back. Just a moment of feeling, of being able to see, before even that began to fade away...and with it, he knew what she'd become. From Broken to Transcendent in a single moment. There was no way to understand exactly what he'd felt, but he knew enough to know what had happened anyways.

It looked like he didn't need to guess what her name was after all anyways.

“I...didn't even know that was possible.”

Words spoken with the seriousness and awe that befitted what had just happened, even if he knew so little. But he knew enough.

He'd been right about the person that Kiriko had once been.

But wrong about what she could become.

WC: 1454 | GP: 29 | Total: 45

Her brow quirked. Shun? Ahh, the unknown, apparently. Minamoto Shun; Captain Blabbermouth of the Seireitei according to the light haired man beside her. Frowned as she watched him throw one flashy move after another. Why the focus on that rather than actual skill and technique? Weren't they supposed to be in some sort of formal combat with rules and actual, well, decorum?

Sad day when combat on Earth seemed to have more rhyme and reason to it than this. This... this was like a street skirmish just with more bullshit Shinigami magic and a lot more talking.

The Broken... her heart twisted a little as she thought of Aya and Amaya, of who they had become-- no name had come with her, but they had simply been... themselves. Whoever that was. Watched the war of words between Shun and Kiriko continue. A shift, something unusual she couldn't put her finger on at the moment. Shouldn't she be angrier? Shouldn't she be boiling over with fury with the sheer amount of disrespect being thrown her way?

"There are so many here and so few that actually stand a chance if something were to happen." Her expression was calm, as were her words, but her eyes and soul were practically boiling over with worry and no small degree of fear. "Kohara-san is the next strongest, that man down there after him, and that one after him-- and so many more at that challenger's level... if Erasmus-san attacks..."

Names and positions were indicated in response. She followed Takua's instruction out of habit, looking for the signatures, the people, he was pointing out and committed what she could of them to memory. Wanted to know what he meant by "bending" someone to his service and yet didn't all at the same time.

Shook her head at the comment he made about the Shinigami being able to withstand the man. Her expression turned pained as the battle waged between the two below. "You forget something crucial; that assumes the Shinigami can unify and fight as a team."
Felt her fingers tighten around the tile's edge as she shifted her weight and kept her eyes on the crystal pane in front of her. Maneuvered it with a thought to get a better angle.

"None of the races are prepared. They're all splintered even among their own kind." As seen by those Vaizard, and those working for the enemy and the gods only knew what else was being plotted behind closed doors.

Should Kiriko-san fall... and should Erasmus lay a grand assault? She shivered, glanced down at her hands as the question posed itself within her mind from long ago. Sitting with the former Arrancar upon a skyscraper and wondering what would happen if they stepped off the ledge and simple dropped.

If one race decided to go after the other... if they decided to join up and eliminate one entirely...

What would they do?

What would she do, given all she had learned from her battle with Kenshou, from Takua and Nazomi and those who had taught her-- both in right and wrong?

Where would her loyalties, her blade, lie?

Takua froze at her words, stopped talking all together and turned to her. Her eyes finally tore themselves away from the battlefield from the first time to actually look the Arrancar in disguise in the face. His question had drawn her attention back, and the unhappy pull to her mouth and the grave weight to her expression said everything there was to say.
"You can't feel what's com-!"

Her head snapped back as energy built and the atmosphere changed. "What the hell is going on?" Her voice took on a shrill note, face paling more than just a touch as she redoubled her efforts on the encounter between Shun and Kiriko.

No. Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Clay tile turned to dust beneath her white knuckled grasp. Every line in her body was positively rigid and whipcord stood out against her throat. She'd forgotten how to breathe in the clash, in the moment the woman's energy had been there and then just vanished even though nothing had changed. Crackling and then the challenger shot off as if fired from a gatling gun-- gone faster than the eye could possibly trace and left the woman behind. Similar to the moments where instinct had completely consumed her from the inside out, Sekai didn't seem to be 'home'. Every iota of her existence was tuned into the remnants of the battlefield-- and of the woman who had gone from something she still had no name for to something that quite simply didn't exist.

She existed, but she didn't.

Part of the world and not all at the same time.

It couldn't be.

Quivering started in her gut, her head shaking once, ever so slowly, from one side to the other in denial. Rejecting what her own eyes and ears had shown her as they had over and over again. The crystal at her side had spread out, a kind of screen that she could manipulate with a thought to ensure she caught the details. Her limbs started to tremble, and then the rest of her until it looked as if the poor woman suffered from hypothermia. The night hadn't been terribly cool in Seireitei, but now, now it felt as if the desert from Hueco Mundo and its eternal night had sunk its poisonous fangs back into her blood.

Another one. Another one of those-- whatever those were that had been there that day in Las Noches and had dispatched the King after a long and gruesome battle. If they showed themselves, you could see them. If they didn't... if they didn't...

Blinding white. Overwhelming power threatening to unmake her at the very seams. Pressure enough to make her bleed--

I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to see what happens now that there's another one of them-- I don't want to see the damage they will bring like they did after removing Tova-san from Las Noches.

They could be anywhere at any time and there was nothing she could do to escape.

Movement against the crystal caught her attention and tore it from the confusion building below. Scarlet eyes drawn inexplicably toward a single foot, no real reason, as the angle panned upward. Caught Miyuki-- it was her after all-- and an all too familiar face. One nearly identical to the one who had been cast into another world-- if this wasn't the same man come back intent on playing a very, very cruel game of cat and mouse with those around him.

Her spine snapped impossibly straight, the beam beneath her hand splintered and crumbled as her fingers dug deep. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't get any air into her lungs. Run. Run, Miyuki. Get out of there. Run, damn you, RUN! Her thoughts screamed to her, ideas running wild of the varying scenarios-- could she have Asgard attack him, stall him long enough for her to get to Miyuki and pull the girl out of his clutches?

His hand landed on the black haired girl's shoulder as friendly as could be, apparently in high spirits due to whatever sick and twisted glee he was getting out of the occasion. Leaned down to say something to the shorter woman that she wouldn't be able to hear, would feed her some line that would lead the poor girl back down the path she'd been reborn to leave behind. Dull, forest green eyes moved away, fell and stared directly into the spying crystal. One eye closed, slow and deliberate, into a wink as, for a moment, she swore the distance was completely severed between her place with Takua on the rooftop there in Seireitei and that of the pair down below.

NO!

A high eerie rejection slipped from the white haired woman's lips as her hand slammed down on top of the partner crystal. Shattered the fragile display into thousands of tiny fragments she cast to the winds with a frantic, violent sweep of one arm. Ignored the shards that stabbed, bit deep, into her hand. Ignored the blood that wept on to shattered tile from her hand, shaking so hard it was a wonder she could even maintain a fist at all. There were stone walls and iron bars in a lifeless world. Shadows and monsters stirred against the abandoned halls, a man with similar features and the same laughing eyes emerging from in front and touching the ground as if nothing unusual were happening.

She was back in her desert prison-- not in the open air there in Seireitei.

Had to get out.

Had to get away before it was too late-- before those eyes found her again and she was pinned by gaze alone to the wall as she had before. Waiting for death, or worse.

Backed away from the ledge one trembling step at a time.

Not this time.

She spared one look to Takua, her face drained of any and all color with pupils so large only a thin ring of the scarlet iris could be seen. Not today. What had to be said, what had to be done would have to wait. She couldn't stay here, couldn't back him in his suicidal mission to do whatever. Couldn't sit there looking calm when the world was going to explode again. One look, a thousand words, and she was gone in the next moment. Given in completely to overwhelming and all consuming terror that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins and strength to her limbs. Threw herself off the roof and hit the ground running with the thick plait of white hair streaming behind her like a banner of surrender.

Had to get away. Had to get somewhere safe.

She could find somewhere to run, to hide-- to stay unseen and unnoticed-- until the danger had passed. Threw herself beneath ground and tunneled deeper, deeper still. Her hands clamped down tightly over her ears, burrowed against the crystalline construct of her guardian and let him absorb her into the protective armor of his physical body. Hid herself within the core of him and stared, sightless and shaking, at the soft, dim glow she commanded to turn to darkness. She was gone. She was suppressed to absolute nonexistence. They wouldn't, they couldn't find her like this. Her training was better than that. She had practiced, time and time again, prepared for the day where she would need to hide from that which could be anywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

She wept silently.

That one look, that one wink had been enough to tell her there would be no escape when-- and when-- her time came.

–
WC: 1795
GP: 35

-Thread Exit-

Something tugged at Nagisa’s scarf, pulling her back into reality and away from the fight.

“Nagisa-san.”

The younger Chinda’s eyes widened in shock and her head snapped around at the sudden realization that her name had been called. But by whom? And how often already? There were few who thought themselves on terms familiar enough to – Kasumi Shinoda. A wry smile rushed over Nagisa’s face, remained hidden beneath her scarf. Nagisa knew that she had dearly wronged the young soul before and was still repenting for it. At the same time though, she could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy each time the young girl interacted with Kiriko. To see her treat Onee-san so familiarly, and have it reciprocated, left a bitter taste in Nagisa’s mouth. Still, seeing the pale face lined with worry and get an impression of all the loathing she held for Captain Minamoto caused the Chinda’s eyebrow to crease ever so slightly. Kasumi was still a mystery to Nagisa. It was clear that Kiriko and her had known each other when the latter had been still alive – and that Kasumi had been exceptionally gifted was also apparent, expressed in the ridiculous spurts of spiritual growth the girl underwent in mere weeks.

“It is,” Nagisa replied at last, and while she shared the contempt for Minamoto, she dared not express it for fear who else might have approached her.

A prudent decision, for when the mismatched eyes swung around they fell on a man whose presence had her stand just a little straighter, and grip her arms just a little tighter. So the raven too had come to bear witness. But as what, the Chinda wondered. Was he here to, secretly, root for Kiriko as his former benefactor? Or was there indeed a rumored chasm that divided the former duo? Nagisa regarded Fujikage warily. He was a powerful sorcerer, perhaps eclipsing Sakamoto who had leveled Karakura Town.

More than ever aware of her status as Vaizard Nagisa could not help but hide the presence of her Reiatsu as best as she could.

Slowly the Chinda cleared her throat, about to address the Raven, but another woman chimed in. Immediately Nagisa noted a few details. She was a member of the Third and familiar with Kasumi, as well as the Minamoto if the slip of her tongue was anything to go by. Kiriko too? Nagisa resisted to shake her head and cursed her inability to remember names. If only Shura were here, she seemed to know everyone. Surely she’d have an explanation at the ready. A sudden explosion of violet flame drew Nagisa’s attention back to the battlefield and she did not even notice the small figure, so eerily alike a memory of Kiriko, that joined their ranks.

Nagisa’s aattention was fully consumed by the bright pillar of flame that seemed intent on setting the very world itself aflame. Shinigami went flying left and right of her, and Nagisa’s scarf too flattered wildly in the breeze. Her sister must have hated the moment as much as she relished in it. Now that it was over though, it was her win. It had to be. Then why did it feel so bad, why did the pain in her chest become strong enough to have her draw her thin lips taut?

Where was the Minamoto?

Nagisa’s eyes forsook her, and as far as Reiatsu came the younger Chinda was an expert in hiding hers, not at finding others. She loathed that weakness as the air began to clear and only Kiriko remained on the field. Nagisa swallowed. Then chaos erupted.

In a whirlwind of motion the crystalline Minamoto broke forth from the ground and cut Kirko, only for the woman to whirl around and, at last, catch him. Mere inches separated the two combatants and yet neither moved. They did not seem to breathe either, as if but a single motion could break the strenuous calm. The lull.

There was confusion in Kiriko’s face and that, in turn, brought anxiety and worry to Nagisa. Kiriko was not supposed to look like this, not in a fight, not ever. She always knew what to do, had the answers to all of life’s questions, then why, why, why was it that the Minamoto could stop her dead in her tracks? Nagisa, the Shinigami, felt the calm the Captain of the Fourth radiated. Nagisa, the sister, felt the distinct lack of it in Kiriko.

The younger Chinda’s foot took a half step forward and Nagisa strained herself to make out the Minamoto’s words over the roar of flame and the moaning of the people. It was hopeless, but her eyes remained pinned on his lips.

”Do something about it.”

The words echoed in her mind. And perhaps she would remember them forever. After all, they were accompanied by the biggest gamble she had ever seen a man wager.

A gamble he won.

Whatever it was that Shun Minamoto had thrown at Kiriko Chinda, it had been many times more lethal than any sword strike.

Nagisa could see her sister crumble, could see her wallow in pain and confusion and it broke her heart.

“Nee-san,” a single word, perhaps lost to the world, left the younger Chinda’s lips and it took all the discipline she had not to rush to her sister’s side right then and now. Kiriko was a good person. She did not deserve the way she was treated. Did all those whose ire she had earned not see the sacrifices she had made? This wasn’t right.

A flash of gold, like the birth of a sun, lit up the nightlight just as Kiriko wrenched the Minamoto’s blade from his grip. In reflex Nagisa narrowed her eyes and brought a hand up to shield her face, but she never looked away. Suddenly, bearing witness seemed important. Even if it would leave scars on her soul forever.

Rods of light and chains of gold bound Kiriko, spells so densely layered, so expertly crafted, forced her to her knees and Nagisa’s features contorted in panic. Her mouth opened to form a single word, to scream it out loud, but it wouldn’t come. Time seemed slowed to a crawl as the Minamoto leveled a hand against Kiriko’s chest, and then raised his sword.

Again the world shifted. Change happened. Nagisa knew, with the certainty of a sibling, that Kiriko, in that moment, had become something different. The eyes, typically black, piercing and lethal like that of a shark, had grown softer. Her features became more feminine. Kiriko’s outline against reality itself seemed sharper. As if she was broken before and now whole. And then, Kiriko Chinda ceased to exist.

Nagisa’s legs almost gave out under her. A shudder went down her spine and she felt a distinct nothingness where her heart had been a moment prior. It was the sensation of tears on her cheeks that got her mind turning again. Kiriko had not died. Neither had the Minamoto. But the distinct bitter taste in Nagisa’s mouth told of irreversible changes…Powerless Nagisa’s arms fell to her sides, and she leaned her head forwards slightly so that tresses of ebony hair could hide her face, mask the tears. Kiriko had not died, in fact she seemed more alive, happier and at ease than ever before. And still there was an incredibly sadness in Nagisa’s chest, one that escaped in a suppressed whimper.

The younger Chinda – or only Chinda?- swallowed hard. Kiriko was done with Seireitei, the Gotei, the worlds. The aloof smile on her face told as much, a laughter, so free of burden and sorrow unlike anything Nagisa had ever heard before. Kiriko would move on to a happier place, now that she had learned what it was like to want to live. To be happy and fulfilled.

But that also meant leaving Nagisa behind. Again.

I am a terrible person, Nagisa thought and wiped at her face with her sleeves. I should be happy that she is alive. Overjoyed that she has ceased tormenting herself so. And yet I cannot bring myself to.

Nagisa forced a smile onto her face in an attempt to commemorate Kiriko’s healing as best as she could.

“Where you’re going now, Kiriko, I cannot follow,” Nagisa cried, her eyes transfixed on her sister. “And that hurts.”



1407/50= 28; 54

The storm, the power.

Munin reveled in it.

The strikes, the thunder.

Munin loved it.

And yet, something felt wrong. Kiriko was not applying her strength, was not applying it in the fullness she needed to. Even just a minor mistake on Shun’s part should have led to his death, his vaporization in the fury and heat and power… so why was he still alive? Why was he still babbling? Munin simply didn’t get it, why he insisted on speaking when every word slowed him. Should he not simply focus on not dying to the fire that was summoned at Kiriko’s call?

The storm surrounded him, buffeted him… and yet the other did not waver. And the storm weakened at his words, weakened in the exchange of meaning. And Munin did not understand.

Why would Kiriko weaken? Why would her storm be turned aside by such petty things as words? Was there something more?

Was there something about this that Munin didn’t know? How could there be? What point was there in want or desire?
Was this what made them powerful?

Was this the key?

Kiriko’s power waned as Shun’s waxed, and then… it all changed.
She was gone.

And Munin knew what had occurred. There was another of his kind. Another like Knowledge had just been born. Another existence that transcended understanding. But born from what? How had this been the catalyst?

Munin didn’t know that yet. But Munin would know.
It had to. Everything had to be known, even that which was impossible to understand.
For 'impossible to understand' was just another phrase that dictated failure.

The artificial form turned, and began to walk back home. Even the Transcendents would be known. Everything would be known. It didn't matter how long Munin had to try, it didn't matter how long Munin had to wait, theorize, test, try, push, think, process. They obeyed their own kind of logic, as did the whole world. And if they were of the world, then they could be known by the world. By Munin.

A simple file was opened, and the data was entered.

"Transcendents verified as multiple existences." For now their were two known, and perhaps countless more.
"Transcendents verified as originating from extant souls." For they were born of dust, the same as all the others.
"Catalyst for ascension unknown. Location unknown. Method of detection unknown." For they were as elusive as thoughts.

They would be known.
It would just take time.

411 | 8+6 = 14