A Darker Reflection [Closed/Kionchi]

Is there a more vulnerable state than sleep? From Ancient Rome to Imperial Japan, names far more famous than his had struggled to overcome that pitiable weakness. From stimulants to sentries, it seemed impossible to offset without some kind of sacrifice. And yet, Kionchi mused, sometimes sleep was your only defense. And as the television flickered and whizzed, finally going black with a deafening pop, he couldn't help but smile at the wonderful bit of irony. For had the store’s television been turned off, he was certain the Hollow’s presence wouldn't have caused it to short-circuit. And much like the hapless electronic, there was a certain young woman who’d be far better off had she just lied down and slept and let the invasion play itself out.

“HELP!”

“I said shut up!” The sound of the Hollow’s webbed foot smashing into her skill caused Kionchi’s attention to immediately return to the crisis at hand. She couldn't have been older than twenty-five, a short-haired blonde, her face being pressed into the dirt. Above her towered a monstrous hollow, it's body like a large frog, black skin covered in writhing pustules, the occasional wave of electricity passing over its skin hinting at its true power. Behind it lie four more Ryoka, unconscious but unharmed, all relatively safe. But beneath his webbed claw lie the source of Kionchi’s frustration, a hostage whose consciousness prevented him from moving. How she could still be awake was nothing short of a miracle, the blood dripping from her skull a testament to her stamina. And yet Kionchi knew as long as she was watching, he couldn't don his mask and suppress the Hollow’s power long enough to get closer.

“I said drop your sword, shinigami.”

The Fox snarled as he looked back over his prey, wracking his brain to figure out the best way to solve this puzzle. He knew if he got closer his phone would be toast, and the row of flickering televisions across the street told him just how far the frog’s electromagnetism reached. His aura already zapped two. Three more and Kionchi would be in range. He could try a kido or even retreating, but the hollow made himself clear: anything less than surrender, and the Ryoka would be crushed. An outcome Kionchi’s pride refused to accept. If he could put on his mask he could protect both the woman and his phone in his inner world, cutting the stupid frog in half before it could even react. But even if he could make the frog croak, Kionchi knew how fast rumors of a vizard would spread. And how much more difficult they were to eliminate that some froggy upstart and his stupid catch phrase that was driving Kionchi crazy.

“I said I’d crush her skull.” His eyebrow twitched as he watched another television flicker and spurt into lifelessness. He reached for his sword, his hair standing in end as he felt the Hollow’s electricity creeping closer and closer. If he said it just one more time he’d make his move. Witness or not, he could always find a secluded place to use his kido to wipe the poor ryoka’s memory if on-

“I said you had to the count of three!”

OK. Fuck it.

He sped across the alley, his mask slipping over his face. The hollow looked dumbfounded as his prey melted into the floor, the ryoka too afraid to even scream. It didn't even take a second, Kionchi landing on the other side of the street. His mask dissolved away as he resheathed his katana, the hollow falling into three pieces as soon as his sword clicked shut.

“And I said that’s how you rescue someone!”

He turned expecting a grateful smile, only to see the look of absolute horror on the same blood-stained woman he'd just saved from certain death.

“Are you okay?” He took just one step toward her and watched her scramble away in terror. Tilting his head he let his hand off his katana, but she was still clearly afraid. So he raised his hand to his face, the shock in her eyes confirming his worst fears: she had seen his mask.

“STAY AWAY!” She shrieked as he continued to step forward, over the sleeping hostages and straight toward her. “You’re a freak! Just like them! Get away from here you mon-”

A flash of purple from the palm of his hand, and she was out like a light. It was a pity:if she could see him move that well she actually had some potential. But he couldn't risk the others waking up and seeing him erase her memories like that, and the kido took too long with just one shinigami. If he hadn't just come from Las Noches he might have had a Kikanshinki, but he'd been avoiding them the last few weeks for obvious reasons. He'd have to keep her consciousness bound, until he could find another shinigami. Covered in blood like she was, it wouldn't be hard to convince one that the procedure was for her own good. After all, even if he hadn't used his mask, the encounter was plenty traumatic. Of course since he had, he should have been able to suppress that frog’s strange aura and protect his phone from-

“Fuck me…” He flipped open his phone and heard a pop as he angrily cracked a bit of the case in the palm of his hand. It was completely dead.

Speeding through Rukongai with an unconscious ryoka on his shoulders might have looked damning in any other situation, but given the invasion and his armband branding the black haired shinigami as Vice-Captain of the Third, even a low-cost hoodlum out here in the sticks wouldn’t think twice about the medic’s intentions. But he was still quite frustrated, watching street signs go out as he darted past. In his analysis of the hollow he had accidentally resonated with it, and now his soul was emitting the same stupid wavelength. He was the one who nuked his own phone. And now he had to race to the nearest shinigami and hope they would buy his half-baked story.

And that's when he stopped dead in the streets and realized: there was only one other signature in the entire block. No hollow. No ryoka. Just. A single shinigami. And one with a particularly dark aura about her, an ominous atmosphere creeping every which way down those eerily abandoned cobblestone streets.

“Well now,” a bead of sweat formed on his head as he sensed an unfamiliar shinigami stepping out of the shadows. She had clearly been fighting since the invasion began. And he had a feeling she was at least involved in whatever was responsible for vacating the district. To say he had a bad feeling was a grave understatement. And yet his own burden suddenly felt so insignificant, that ceaseless ambition of his prodding him to take another step forward and smile, trying his best to understand this curious new find of his.

“Are you in need of assistance? Perhaps I can help!”

1180/1180

A tremor ran through her spine, shaking her from top to bottom. She'd felt the approach of the hunter group of Hollows as they were still making their approach but now there was another. It was a Hollow signature whose presence suggested it was far more powerful than any that she had encountered thus far, even dwarfing the power of Iko.

Emotions rocked her, excitement, joy, dread, fear, fury. How had she missed this creature!? It was so close now, just another second and it'd be upon her. She would die, she'd die! It would surely kill her! A glorious murder, unimaginable pain, all hers in a second, a single second! A delirious ecstasy washed over her, had she ever had such an incredible battle before now? She couldn't breath.

The realization of her death was enough, the bestial urge deep within her ignited, she wanted to live! More than anything else she wanted to live, to overcome, to destroy this new threat! She knew these instincts would see her safe, they always had. She always fought harder when she trusted in them. She felt the creature appear near and without hesitation she launched towards. All it took was a single step to clear the distance, and with it her bloody Zanpakuto flashed with the full strength and fury her body possessed. It was a cut she'd performed innumerable times, that had slain an almost equal number of Hollow's before it. In the back of her mind a voice was screaming.

There was but a single moment where she actually saw her quarry, a handsome Shinigami with black hair, the armband signaling his status as the Vice-Captain of the third and an innocent young woman slung over his shoulders. All she had was a single moment where all it would take for the cut to complete was anything less than absolute control.

The weight of her sin hammered her at all once. Her entire body reacted viscerally, she pulled blade diverting it moments before the Shinigami's fate was their own and with it stopped herself from committing to something she might not have been able to forgive herself for. Reality came crashing in a moment later, a hyper-awareness of everything that had led her to this moment. Regret formed in the pit of her gut so strongly that she was forced back a full step, staggered by it. The hand free of her blade moved to her face, covering it briefly as she turned from the man and dragged a single breath.

No small part vanity had stopped her, the sick feeling of being observed brought on by the shame of having exposed this side of herself. After all, it was a simple matter to deny reality when she was the only one observing it. Now, it had been observed and that meant it had happened irrefutably. She felt ill, snapping back into place whatever dignity she had left she straightened up and turned once more to the new arrival.

It took her a moment to match the face to her own research, Kionchi. She knew little of him now, but his arrival had set some new pieces to a rapidly more intriguing puzzle. It took her a second further to realize that he had offered assistance. With a slight bow her head she replied, "I apologize. I fear I've been too long exposed to the chaos of this conflict." As plausible a line that was available to her delivered with characteristic poise.

She stopped. Could he help her? She considered the question, help? Could he help her? Her blade trembled so she tipped it towards the ground to keep its rattling silent. She then turned away from his gaze, unable to match it and focused on the young woman over his shoulder. She was exhausted, on the last of a fleeting strength, compromised in her serenity, exposed much too close to the truth, alone utterly, but not selfish yet enough to admit that to anyone.

"No, thank you for the offer. There are more monsters coming, but I will hold my post. Please, tend to the young woman and the others on your way in." She mustered up whatever it was she had left to form the mask to hide that truth, it allowed a thin earnest smile that took her all to present to Kionchi.

"I am fine."

731/1215

Kionchi's eyes opened wide as he watched her approach. It wasn't her steel that caused his heart to stop, his hesitation near fatal had she not regained control of her senses. Rather it was those eyes, madness manifest and burnt into his memory as he watched her sword tremble in her hands. Their luster sung of such an unrefined chaos that a small part of Kionchi almost regret her pulling back at the last second. And while he knew first-hand the reputation of the Fifth for their recklessness and fervor, what Kionchi saw in those eyes was above and beyond the mere focus of a berserker in the heat of battle. On the contrary, the half-lidded expression she gave him now that she'd regained control was so pitiably clouded that he wondered how she saw anything through that haze.

She's...lying.

He wanted to believe that so badly, holding back a cringe as she tried to explain herself, turning away to spare him the misery of having to see those once brilliant eyes having lost so much luster. He could still hear her sword rattling against the ground, her hand far too uneasy for someone who was once so focused. What was she really after? Why don a zanpakuto if you were just going to suffer so much the minute another Shinigami caught sight of you? It was all so unnatural and...wrong.

“This area has already been evacuated.” Kionchi took a step toward her and shifted his weight, holding the woman on his back now with just one hand. “Your name is Nanami, right? I've seen you around...the Fifth division?”

He was still recovering from Nanami's initial greeting, his face stern, and his tone lacking that carefree whimsy that he'd adopted since his time in Hueco Mundo. In a way, he was acting almost like the Kionchi he'd swore he'd left behind. And yet, his motives were in such direct violation of his old Code of Honor that it wouldn't have shocked him if a second Kionchi appeared and cut him down right then and there. But both Kionchi found themselves wary of members of the Fifth. Broodish. Direct. Unable to admit their own weakness. In retrospect, it'd be the perfect hunting ground for the kind of shinigami Kionchi needed. But he always found it so challenging to convince that breed of warrior without drawing his sword. Then again, he'd never met one with eyes quite like hers before.

“I need your help.”

His free hand rest on hers, trying to steady its shaking.

“There's someone I have to save.”

His eyes avoided hers, motioning toward an abandoned grocery store on the other side of the street. He could feel there was no one else around. Even with his condition, he knew the meat locker in the back of the small deli would give them a place to work completely undisturbed.

“And I can't do it alone.”

490/1670

There was something wrong here, Kionchi wasn't like the others was he? No, there was something she couldn't place fueled a sense of dread the built in her own gut. She tried to draw a deep breath, tried to calm herself but she felt out of control, dizzy, unfocused. It felt like she was being pulled out from her body, hovering a few inches away from herself trying desperately not to be pulled away.

Him being here wasn't helping, she wanted him gone so that she could...could what? She sucked in a sharp breath as he spoke. What did she want? What was she trying to do? She paused realizing the creeping hope that she'd be free to fall, be consumed, consume, destroy. A shudder ran through her spine, how easy it was it to allow? To let herself sink into the comforting embrace of her darkest desires?

His voice eventually pulled her back to the surface and she felt some semblance of herself slide into place. She knew that all the resistance and distaste his arrival brought wasn't shame, but regret for having been interrupted. But a regret that was not her own? If not, then whose? She couldn't tell the difference.

Her name, he'd spoken it and she pulled herself together enough to reply. "Yes, Nanami...I am a member of the Fifth," she said quietly, only in part directed to him in an effort to vainly maintain the masquerade she created. She flinched at his touch, only for the moment before she realized that she'd been trembling. Quietly cursing herself further for weakness she realized that she'd put out a beacon, a cry for help unwittingly and he was trying to respond to it. She wanted to kill him for it. He turned to her and she shut her eyes tight, she could feel it, raw animal emotion surging through her. The most basic level of her mind had been forced to decide between fight or flight and she stood on the precipice of that decision, unwilling to commit to it, unable to pull herself back. Thoughts she refused to acknowledge she had echoed in the back of her mind, she stared distantly while he spoke, half registering.

Her would be hunters had pulled away with his arrival and so they were given solace, however brief. He had gestured to the grocery store, a quiet out of the place to continue in secret.

He knew, about her. He had to. Her secret? Kill him. Don't you wonder what his blood is like? What about the one with him?

He'd trust you if you worked at it, lower his guard enough.

It's a quiet place, nobody will see when you dispatch him.

He feels like a Hollow anyway, who would claim you weren't justify? How hard would the story be to invent?

Tear. Into. Him.

Each step she made unwilling after him, she wasn't here for any of those things, she didn't want to do any of those things, but why did they come to her mind? Endless visions of what she could do, he looked like a fighter, how wonderful? He might even be strong enough. It was easy to feel these feelings against the monsters, to indulge. She shuddered, everything screamed for her to swing her blade.

Her heart hammered still, adrenaline flowing on. "How...why are you here?" she asked quietly as they stepped through the threshold. Her eyes stared at the floor, fearing the sight of a blood flowing vein would be enough, watching his feet as he moved along. "What do you want from me, Kionchi?" She couldn't find the strength to give voice to the warning, 'if you stay, I will try to kill you.'

624/1839

The telltale ring was the only sign of life in the store, and it too quickly died as soon as Kionchi entered. The two shinigami took a moment to scan their surroundings before Kionchi shifted the weight of the still unconscious plus in his arms, her labored breathing a constant reminder of the urgency of the situation. It wasn't that he was afraid of her dying. After all, the cycle permitted a shinigami the luxury of taking the life of a plus in Rukongai just to maintain order. And with what this particular Plus was unfortunate enough to witness, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that whatever transient life she lived waiting to reincarnate in Soul Society, she would far better off rolling the karmic dice back on earth and trying for a life that wasn't so incredibly unlucky.

"I saved this Plus from a Hollow, but in doing so I got some of the creature's stench on me."

He walked to the back of the store, his sandals making a sucking noise as he stepped over dried puddles of corn syrup and juice. He didn't care about the Plus dying. But if she could stay alive long enough, she would be a useful tool in this little litmus test. Nanami's pleading had already caused Kionchi's pulse to quicken, his heart excited by the sound of a potential new subject begging to be tested. Perhaps there was still a part of the Fox that hadn't stayed too far from under the Raven's wings, but Kionchi was never one to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

"I'm afraid if I use my own reiatsu to heal her, she'll reek of that same darkness for the rest of her life," He looked back toward Nanami, watching the subtle hints of her body language telling him just how nervous she was. "It's a scent you can't cover up."

It got colder as he approached the meat locker, its thick metal doors left partially ajar. He stopped and turned, his finger on his lips silently motioning to Nanami to keep quiet as he pulled out his cellphone. Sliding the thing into a small plastic box full of gloves and hairnets, he kept his finger on his lips and pointed toward Nanami, then toward his phone. Neither of them should still be working, but after his meeting with Ryou and Kiriko, he didn't trust them enough to leave himself exposed. Slowly he opened the door, taking a few steps into the chilly locker full of grisly meathooks and slabs of frozen pork and beef. He slipped the body onto the floor, and gestured to Nanami to come in and close the door.

449/2119