To the Edge and Back [w/ Hanabi/Closed]

A swirl of crystalline sand glittered as the wind tossed granules wiggled through the thick cloth shrouding her face and dug even deeper into the pale flesh burrowed within. Gritting her teeth Hanabi pressed forward not entirely sure where she was going but certain of the destination all the same. The sandy dunes tugged at her feet slipping and grabbing until she could almost imagine hands grasping eagerly at her heels. Somehow, despite her many lessons on Hueco Mundo she had always imagined heat. The sort of warmth that broiled one alive, wafting down onto unsuspecting flesh and leaving little more than desiccated husks when the day finally closed.

That had been the first lesson of her little science trip to the land of the enemy. Instead of heat she had found an inky darkness that chilled her to the core even with the many silken layers meant to trap in warmth of any kind. She had come prepared in spite of her misconceptions, Hinata-shishou tucked neatly at her side and a small book pressed flush beneath her obi. Whatever she’d told the Shinigami on duty at the Senkaimon, whatever she’d scribbled on blurred out forms back in the Third, this wasn’t really a research trip. Nor was it sanctioned by her superiors. In fact, there wasn’t even a goal here.

Not one to report home about, at least. But Hanabi could feel it. That tightening inside, the way her bones felt compressed, the dried out ache that made her want to just bury her head in her books some more. She had tried hiding away from it all, from the duty, the questions, the face of her little sister’s illness. Unlike before there was no Kiriko to snap and snarl and pull her from her little self-delusions, so Hanabi had wasted quite a while holed up in her library before the need had overpowered the fear.

And here she was, trudging through Hueco Mundo, waiting to find whatever it was her soul seemed certain was right around the corner. Coughing out a mouthful of sand and grit Hanabi paused to massage her throat through the cloth and take a sip of her swiftly dwindling water supply. Maybe it wasn’t boiling out here but that didn’t mean the desert had an abundance of water either. Shaking the canteen a bit morosely she tried to calculate how many more days she could stretch this out for.

Almost as soon as she came to the realization that it would be hours, not days, the sound of thuds and a long heavy scrabbling caught her ears. Ducking low, taking advantage of the hilly ground she’d been traversing, Hanabi squinted off into the distance. So far she hadn’t meet much resistance out here, nothing that a few well-placed spells couldn’t handle. But the closer she got to civilization, or whatever one could call the center of this wretched little plane, the higher her chances of finding a true opponent would be. And as tired as she was that was not going to go well.

Breath held thrall in her chest, Hanabi could just barely make out a wide loping form slipping and trundling by. Counting the seconds and eyeing the distance between them, she tried to formulate the creature’s ambient speed, but found the calculation slipped away as the thing spilled ever closer. Taking in scant details, she held back a shudder when the beast resolved into three humanoid shapes instead of one giant rolling behemoth. On closer look, one of them, or maybe two, didn’t look like hollow-breeds at all. And the way the center… girl was moving, those eyes glazed over in exhausted pain, this didn’t seem to be a mutual relationship either.

The smart thing would be to run for it, no one had seen her yet, she could continue her mission. But that sandpapery ache in her chest had softened just an ounce at the sight of the sapphire-eyed girl and Hanabi wasn’t one to doubt fate.

“One’s acts, one’s profit,” Hinata-shishou crooned in one of her rare moments of vocalization, lips glossing over the edge of Hanabi’s ear. Long sweeping sleeves floated across her face, obscuring all vision except the picture of plover flying across a setting sun stitched in intricate detail onto the aged silk. Blinking the scene away, Hanabi huffed softly and rubbed at her eyes.

“It is not as if you need to admonish me, Hinata-shishou. I already know what I need to do,” she whispered to her sword-spirit. A flash of pride and belly-deep warmth flooded her chest and Hanabi wasn’t sure which of them it came from. Nodding she studied her quarry more closely and began to plan.

Slipping her hand around the girl’s grasping fingers Hanabi gently disentangled the captive from the other two. Her free hand was still held forth, twisting and pulling at strands of air and reiki so that the illusion she had cast would hold them in sway. It wasn’t very strong, anything of that caliber required an incantation and a bit more energy then she could waste right now. But if all was as she hoped the two would continue on their little jaunt without realizing the girl they were following was nothing but air and sand and bent light.

High on adrenaline she tugged the real girl away, as careful as she could be while maintaining a good speed. The calloused hand gripped hers with an iron-fisted intensity but the girl herself didn’t so much as blink. Was she under a spell? Mind control was rare, but not impossible… Hanabi wrapped a hand around the girl’s shoulders, trying to support more of that broken down body as they raced away.

That was when the other stumbled to a halt, going rigid, before collapsing right there and then. Hanabi lowered her as gently as she could, conscious of the ragged shards of crystal this near to the forests. The girl’s closed eyed shudder was filled with a keening cry but she showed no signs of coming to and eventually even that faded as if sleep, or unconsciousness, had finally claimed her.

Rubbing at her aching joints, Hanabi looked around. In all the confusion she wasn’t sure which direction she’d taken earlier, but moving around with an injured ally was never smart. They would have to wait here, she could rest, just for a few minutes, and build up the strength for a Kaidou. Reassuring herself that she had done the right thing, Hanabi lay Hinata-shishou across her lap and snapped her fingers to create a small perimeter barrier just in case before succumbing, herself, to sleep.

WC: 1108

Chiaki awoke abruptly with a blood-curdling scream. It was as if every ounce of pain she'd experienced over the past several years all struck her at once. Searing pain pulsated out from every inch of her body. Involuntarily her hands shot outwards, grasping wildly at anything she could to force the pain from her mind. Eventually slender digits, made course through endless time in the deserts of Hueco Mundo, would find themselves wrapped around an arm. The arm tensed, understandably so, as she squeezed harshly.

Suddenly her eyes opened. Widely at first, then narrowing while she struggled to completely understand her surroundings for the first time in forever. Her memories of Hueco Mundo-- at least this particular trip-- were fragmented at best. Even then she remembered far more than she cared to.

"I'm curious."

As quickly as the memory fluttered into her mind, she shut her eyes as if to will it away.

“Will your Zanpakutō obey you first, or me?"

Chiaki could still feel Exodus' cold steel pressed firmly against her forehead. She could see Tova's unfeeling, piercing gaze boring a hole right through her soul as he toyed with her. She remembered barely being able to stand, barely being able to speak.

"Because I’d really like to know if it’d blow your brains out if I pull this trigger or not."

Chiaki shot upward, gasping for air. Her hands unclenched, releasing the arm she'd reflexively latched onto. One swiftly grasped the hilt of Exodus, the other reaching for her throat as if desperately willing it to provide air more quickly. Reflexively her fingers danced over her skin, searching for signs of years of physical abuse. Slashes, bullet wounds, burns... Only to find nothing at all. It wasn't long before she realized she wasn't alone. A wave of fear washed over her all over again. A soft whimper, and a muffled scream escaped her lips before she awkwardly shuffled herself backwards and away from the feminine figure beside her.

"K...Kirito?"

No, not Kirito. Or... was it? The girl did bear a striking resemblance to the acting Captain of the Second Division. Chiaki held Kiriko Chindo in high regard. The woman was fierce, intelligent, and extremely talented. They'd investigated the disappearance of several Shinigami together in Rukongai. If Kiriko was, in fact, here-- perhaps she was safe.

No... There is no safety. It's all a lie! LIES!

Panic washed over the raven-haired shinigami's face all over again and she struggled to get further from what she was sure was a mirage meant to deceive her again.

"Wh-what do you want!? Just leave me alone! RRRRAAAAAGHHHHH!!!"

Chiaki forced her eyes shut, clamping her hands over her face and letting out a visceral scream. Her insides suddenly felt like they were being ripped asunder. When she removed her hands and her eyes opened again, sapphire pools were repleaced by a glowing amber. Half of the upper part of her face was covered in a pearly white fragment of bone that concealed blackened eyes with glowing yellow irises.

"What is happening to me!?!"

Word Count: 1014- 20GP

Agitated affect. Paranoia, and perhaps hallucinations. Hanabi cataloged symptoms even as she sat paralyzed in the moment. The poor victim surged forward, eyes flickering in a thousand directions as just as suddenly that powerful posturing faded to a more well-worn fear. Hanabi exhaled softly through grit teeth, glancing down at the hand fisted tightly around her forecep, counting backwards from ten and letting the hilt of her sword slip back to the ground. This was not the enemy. She had no need for those ugly reflexes, things Hanabi had thought she might have washed away with a nice desk job and the painted allure of normalcy. No reason to fear now, no reason to draw that blade and push forward, a sharp silvery arc to cut at weakened flesh.

Counting slowly, pausing between each number to force her muscles to relax, Hanabi painstakingly brought herself back from the cliff step by step. It had been a while since she had scraped so close, but that hauntingly whispered name was enough to send her soul quivering to old hunting grounds. She could not control the world around her. The other had taught Hanabi that. But she could control herself. She could choose.

That was who she was, after all. A choice.

Kneeling so that the height differential wasn’t as stark, not that she could ever feel tall around someone like this, Hanabi held her hands up palms-forward and tried to smile. The chaos of her reiatsu soon smoothed, curling protectively around her stocky form without the sharp crests and waves of earlier. “No, not Kiriko. My name is Enyo Hanabi.”

The attempt at control, at peace, cracked just a bit as she watched the shaking woman let out a hair-splitting screech as ossein liquid dripped across the right quadrant of her skull. The first thought was a faint image, a hazy recollection of a woman’s face melted away to reveal bone. The grin was both domineering and tender, skeletal hands reaching out towards her face. Hanabi winced, a scream caught up in her chest as the scent of plum washed away the acrid smell of bone dust and bloody dirt.

Straightening, her features pinched tight but determination gripped just as hard, Hanabi held out her hands once more. “I doubt either of us have time for a full explanation, Shinigami-san. But your Inner Hollow appears to be trying to take over. This is the battle for possession of your body and faculties,” and for the purity of your soul, though Hanabi didn’t mention that now. Ever so faintly, dancing around the edges of shadows, a soft purple light began to bloom at her fingertips. Tiny buds of energy lifting in bloom as petals spread wide and fractals zigged between her knuckles. “That being said, this is a known battle. I can try to help you, if you would permit me, Shinigami-san.”

She made no move to grab at the unknown woman or otherwise incite the predator nature of her Inner Hollow. If she could still speak so clearly there was a space of time, enough to ask permission at least. Hanabi believed in everything she had been studying, in the need for a cure, in the diabolical taint of these Inner Hollows, but she did so only because of the Shinigami who were effected. Even if this girl had some connection to Kiriko, she would do her best to help, because no one should have to fight evil alone. To watch yourself slip away and be frozen, unable to win the fight, that wasn’t a fate Hanabi wished on anyone else. Never again.

WC: 602 | Total WC: 1710

Inner... Hollow?

Chiaki struggled to understand while simultaneously fighting off an intense urge to...

"NNNOOOOOO!!!" Chiaki screamed, wrenching backwards, spinning in place and slamming her fists hard into the ground, smashing apart crystallized shards of sand and slicing her fists open in several places. Her blood pooled into the sand beneath her, and tears welled up in the corner of her eyes. "I... I WONT HURT HER!!!"

Chiaki forced her forehead into the ground, lifted her head, and bashed it into the sand again, narrowly missing a large rigid shard of reishi-formed glass. How could this be happening? A hollow inside of her? The very thing she was sworn to destroy? All of her time in the R&D division had, of course, permitted her access to the limited information the Seireitei had on Vaizards-- though she always suspected there was more... somewhere. She remembered the girl in the white mask, her tormentor for the past few years. Slicing. Cutting. Tearing. Ripping....

Laughing.

Did Kiriko-- no, Hanabi-- say that she could help? How? Chiaki sobbed through gritted teeth and pulled herself to her knees, turning to face the dark-haired girl.

"P-please... Please help me. I can't go back. Don't let her take me again!"

Until this point Chiaki had been able to withstand the harsh, unyielding pull of the masked girl. How had she fought for so long? Compartmentalization.

She'd forced her demons into the dark recesses of her mind her entire life. The masked girl was just another demon. A demon with claws, fangs, teeth, and blades. A demon who could actually hurt her. Chiaki may have survived this long, but the fight had taken a serious toll on her mind. Fear-- fear was all she knew now. How did she know this girl had her best interests at heart? Why was she even here?

It had been so long since she had anyone to talk to. Since she had someone to confide in. Machi and Gatta hadn't spoken to her in years. She recalled Tova's spiritual energy forcing its way through Exodus and tearing a hole in her shoulder.

"Oops," Tova mocked as he tossed one of her half-melted pistols onto the ground.

She hadn't felt a real connection to her Zanpakuto since then. She'd called out to it, but received no response. Her asauchi sat dormant at her side, the tip of the blade melted and misshapen. This was her only chance. Did she have any other choice but to accept?

It was either that or return to the white-masked girl's hell.

"PLEASE. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!"

Chiaki thrust her hands, palms down into the ground before the Kiriko look-alike. Chiaki bowed low, her jet-black locks dusting the ground, and sobbed uncontrollably. Between each sob was a gutteral groan. Blood poured from her knuckles where the jagged crystal had split them. Rapidly the mask on her face was spreading, now covering an entire half of her face, just reaching the tip of her chin.

"I... I beg you!"

Word Count: 1522 - 30 GP

She clenched her fists, standing warily as the girl rolled around the small sand dunes while power swirled and rent the darkness that surrounded them. Hanabi had little illusions about her physical strength and she wasn’t about to throw herself onto the ragging girl to contain her, and instead she began to chant long strands of incantations, weaving words and sentences in and out amongst each other until the air around them took on a silvered cast. A charmed circle spread out with Hanabi at the epicenter, motes of sand pressed flat and still as the walls flowed to her furthest reach and the dome connected above their heads.

Humming the last enchanted line Hanabi tugged the final rhythm and wrapped it around a deep crevice of her soul, tethered tight to the core of her energy. The barrier was strong enough that it would keep out most unsavory opponents, but best of all it would shroud the two Shinigami in blankness. A vaizardification attempt released too much reishi at the best of times. Fighting against it while in Hueco Mundo, that was just asking for everyone to notice. This spell was a variation on the spell she had shown Muhle-sensei to join his special Bakudou task force, instead of neutralizing energy from the outside it did so internally. Hanabi had to hope it would be enough while she was distracted with the real battle.

Dropping to her knees beside the weeping girl, a part of her curdling and flinching away from the bare obeisance, Hanabi rested cool hands atop the other Shinigami’s quivering shoulders. Power green like newborn leaves seeped between the skin flowing deep and nourishing the exhaustion of the girl. Right now having the strength to fight was more important than the wounds on her hands which wouldn’t immediately result in death or the endangerment of the Gotei.

Pouring her focus into the other body, watching her energy rush like water filling a bottomless pail, Hanabi never even noticed the sudden spark of the weakened woman’s asauchi. There was the sound of a fan snapping closed beside her head and suddenly the world inverted.

Her hands were still resting on the Shinigami’s shoulders and she felt just as tired as before, a frisson of anxious adrenaline threading through her pulse, but they were no longer kneeling in the deserts of Hueco Mundo. Jolting to her feet Hanabi spun on one heel as her gaze skittered rapidly from one headstone to another. A graveyard? All of the sudden the scent of bone dust and decay hit her like the waves of a tsunami and she stumbled, hands coming down hard on the nearest grave marker as she shook. Grime and moss clung to her hands, the stone cold as ice, and Hanabi snatched her hand back as if scalded.

This wasn’t… She tried to theorize, to logic the situation, but nothing made sense. No detail teased at her thoughts as the obvious solution. How had she gotten here? And why?

The only answer was a high-pitch shriek as a wave of light came crackling out of the foggy depths. She felt the immense energy, hair prickling and skin going tight, even as she sought to track the attack in the rolling banks of mist, and managed to drop to the loamy earth just in time to avoid a salvo right where she had been standing. 

WC: 567 | Total WC: 2277

Chiaki gasped and spun around, keeping her head low. The unmistakable sound of a powerful firearm had just exploded just inches above her crouched form, narrowly missing Hanabi. What's worse, the reiatsu signature was that of Exodus. It was as if she'd fired the blast herself. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and fear wracked her body all over again.

She had returned to the graveyard. The high-pitched, maniacal laughter of the girl with the white mask could be heard in the distance. Chiaki swallowed hard and crawled over to Hanabi, dragging her behind a large moss-covered headstone. The air was thick with mold, bone dust and decay as always. She was used to the smell, but was almost certain Hanabi would not be.

"H-how did you get here?"

Another powerful blast of rippling white-hot reiryoku tore through the sky, erupting into the broadside of a large, concrete mausoleum sending chunks of stone, iron, and mold in every direction. This time, the blast came from a completely different direction. The point of origin, however, was nearly the same. The masked girl was using Machi and Gatta's portals to change the directions of her attacks. The next one could, realistically, come from anywhere.

How can I possibly fight against such devastating power without my--

Childlike laughter suddenly echoed through the darkness. It was the first time in far too long that she'd heard their voices.

"Machi? Gatta?"

More laughter, but no response. As her ice-blue eyes flickered hurriedly from gravestone to gravestone, looking desperately for the helpful, if not irritating, clues the girls tended to leave behind, she grasped Hanabi's arm from behind without so much as looking back.

"Come on we can't stay still!" As if on cue another blast rent the sky in two, narrowly missing the headstone they were ducking behind as she pulled the girl with her. Chiaki dove behind a large, thin headstone and then rolled to the next-- a much wider, larger one topped with an unlit lantern made of cast-iron and glass.

I knew it, Machi and Gatta have abandoned me. Just like they abandoned me against Tova.

More laughter. This time the girl with the white mask. She sounded much closer.

"Where do you think you're going?"

A portal-- right above them?!

Chiaki pushed Hanabi directly in the chest, clearing her from the opening. With milliseconds to spare, Chiaki dove backwards, narrowly avoiding a powerful salvo of spiritual energy to the crown of her head. Chiaki scrambled to her feet, keeping her frame lower than the nearest headstones and sprinted in the opposite direction, praying for an idea, an opening, a weapon-- SOMETHING.

It was then, amid the din of explosions and low rolling fog, that Chiaki received a moment of clarity. She could see the smug face of Tova Diablo standing before her-- the barrel of Exodus pressed firmly into her shoulder.

"If we can't protect ourselves..."

She could feel the sickening warmth of blood pooling in her shihakusho-- the pain in her shoulder was all too real. It was happening all over again. Everything she had ever believed was being ripped to shreds right before her eyes. Tova's questions tugged at the loosely knit threads that unravelled from doubts planted there by the King of Hueco Mundo in the first place.

"...how can we protect anyone else?"

Tova's laughter was bone-chilling.

"Protection?"

He mocked me, laying waste to everything I ever believed, everything I stood for. Shinigami?

"Janitors."

Was that all we were? A bright flash of hot-white jade light blinded the petite girl momentarily before an earth-shattering CRACK left her stunned all over again. She gasped, glanced right, and watched the sekkiseki wall lurch, crack, and tumble to the ground.

"Even sekkiseki rock has it's limits."

Doubt.

It wasn't the only seed sowed by the King of Hueco Mundo that evening. Chiaki pressed a trembling hand into her chest, visualizing the demon incubating inside of her.

Doesn't it feel wonderful?

The power was thick, brilliant, and intoxicating. When she really felt for that dark passenger within her she truly feared the way she felt about it. She LOVED it. Some part of her yearned for it. It made her feel powerful-- whole, even.

CRACK!

The cover she was crouched quietly behind suddenly erupted, baring her lithe frame to her ranged pursuer. Chiaki scurried along again, clinging to the larger headstones to protect herself from harm. Chiaki glanced over her shoulder once more, searching frantically for her counterpart in the white mask. The pungent smell of reiryoku singed oxygen clung to the air until Chiaki's gaze was finally drawn to the massive headstone behind which she hid.

"Confidence," the headstone read.

Chiaki pondered it for a split second before looking over her shoulder again. Hanabi was nowhere to be seen.

Confidence? In what.

"Who do you think it would choose, given the chance?"

You chose him.

We didn't!
We didn't!

A sudden expanse of spiritual energy only meters away snapped her from her strained reverie as a bright red portal opened five feet ahead of her. Chiaki dropped to the ground hard, narrowly ducking a massive, crackling blast of energy. The grass and dirt behind her exploded, raining chunks of soil all over her back. Scrambling, she lunged to her feet, diving two rows over behind another large headstone.

You shot me!

BOOM!

The masked girl was firing more frequently now. There was less time to think, and Chiaki frantically scurried through the graveyard searching for constant cover. She tucked in between two medium sized stone buildings housing shallow crypts. Her fingers pressed lightly against the cool stone. Engraved in the cold surface was another word.

Trust.

One of her pistols clattered to the ground. She could see the disgusting smirk on Tova's face as it landed.

"It doesn't know if it would rather be mine or belong to you."

Lies.
Deceit.

Playing the scene over in her head, this time without Tova standing before her, she felt much more skeptical of his words. Did Exodus... really choose him?

We didn't.
As if!

The image of one of her pistols lying on the ground, the barrel melted with the intense force of Tova's energy flowing through it appeared in her mind. They... didn't choose him?

Suddenly her eyes filled with tears imagining the pain Machi and Gatta felt as his will was forced upon them.

Oh God. Girls!

The building behind her had shifted-- the opening was now facing her, the iron-barred door wide open. A dim light could be seen flickering somewhere below. Chiaki entered without hesitation.

Where are you goinng!

The voice of the masked girl. Chiaki hurried, lurching forward into the dank, moldy recesses of the crypt. A large stone casket below, a single lit torch ensconced on the nearby wall, came into view. Atop the rigid surface lay a familiar asauchi.

You know what to do.
It's about time!

As her cold fingers wrapped around the all too familiar hilt, the scenery around her immediately changed. Once again she was on the surface. The masked girl's laughter exploded from seemingly everywhere.

What do you suppse you're going to do with that, girl!?

"Fracture, Exodus."

The release triggered an instant flood of emotion, and Chiaki struggled to maintain composure. For so long she had been alone. Only the masked girl's thoughts filling her mind with self-doubt. Poisoning her confidence-- weakening her bond with Machi and Gatta.

We are yours.
Honestly, how could you ever even doubt it?

For the first time in years, she would no longer play the role of victim. It was time to fight back.

Word Count - 2812 / 56 GP