Argumentum ad Ignorantiam [Closed | Lucas]

An old saying, one that now applied to Lucas, came up in the man’s mind as he stalked one a black-clad Shinigami who had come unnaturally close to the Quincy man.

Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…

After his first interaction with them, and the second, Lucas had come to be more than a little paranoid. Both times, things turned violent whether he wanted them to or not. Both of them were Shinigami sent to track him down and stop him from doing what he did: Protecting humans, killing Hollows, being a Quincy.

So, when one of them got within more than a half a kilometer of the man, he started to get worried. In all instances, their powers had been truly strange and mystical, completely hard to predict. The first man, the one with the water-sword, had demonstrated their danger quite well. The second one just confirmed that it wasn’t going to end, not any time soon, at least.

Lucas didn’t like the implications of that, and hated even more that it made him want to leave Japan.

One good thing that arose out of the circumstances was that Lucas had now been spending more and more time with his sixth sense aware and active. He could feel himself improving, little by little, and knew that soon enough he’d have much more robust awareness, and would feel that much more secure in his surroundings and day to day life.

Until such a time, he let himself lay in the grip of paranoia. He’d been following this particular Shinigami, through the residential district, for over half an hour. Maybe longer, he neglected his watch, his attention gravitated almost exclusively towards the walking killing machine that—if the other two were any indication—was here to lob his head off.

At first, as they passed under the neon signs of business as homes and apartments shifted to restaurants and stores, he thought that the man didn’t notice him. But something, maybe the subtle change in his gait or the slight twitches of his head that suggested he wanted to look behind him—or maybe Lucas was letting all of this get to him, he couldn’t tell—tipped the Quincy off to the Shinigami’s awareness.

Although foot traffic in town thinned out considerably after sunset, Lucas had found at least a couple of people to politely and quietly walk alongside. But when the last gentlemen turned to cross a different street, and left him alone with the invisibly, magic-sword-wielding man in front of him, Lucas decided to end the charade.

“If you’re waiting for the street to be empty, this is about as empty as its gonna get tonight,” Lucas called out to the man, in his best Japanese, and stopped in front of the wide window of a casual restaurant. He could see countless people—couples, families have a late dinner—seated and being served, and they could see him. Exactly what he wanted, a little, additional layer of insurance against the Zanpakutō that the man had sheathed.

“I’ve gone through two of you guys already—killed no one, just so you’re aware—but it looks like you just won’t stop showing up, huh?”

Yet, he held out hope that this time, maybe, just maybe, it’d be different.

*****

550 Words

Chuckling with the same look of vacant amusement, Shigure waved a dismissive hand as though the blatant hostility directed towards him was utterly preposterous and ungrounded. The human’s words and barbed confidence had already suggested an extensive knowledge and understanding of Shinigami; it was a bold and audacious show of his hand, and Shigure was keen to put forward his own bluff in response.

"The last time Shigure checked, strolling the Human World was no crime for a Shinigami."

Removing his hands from his sleeves and raising them to feign harmlessness, he then shook his head with calculated melancholy.

“You speak of having done battle with Shigure’s colleagues but this one has no such intention to fight you; he has received neither instruction nor inspiration to do so.”

Humans that were aware of the Shinigami's existence were not unheard of, but for any to be so fearless in confronting one was unusual as far as Shigure was concerned. Even so, he sought to entertain the stranger and to diffuse the situation as gently as possible - although with any unwarranted encounter in the night, unease on the part of both parties was to be expected.

"Now, hurting a human would be inherently wrong - not only because we as a whole are generally tasked with protecting the living... but also because Shigure is a medic. A shabby one, perhaps, but a medic nonetheless."

Taking a pause, Shigure continued after widening his smile.

"Thus, this one poses no danger to you."

Despite his best intentions and having finished his spiel, the tension was still very much palpable in the air between them. What seemed a steely gaze from the human burrowed into Shigure's own eyes: the corners creasing with mild amusement as the man before him glowered with evident distrust. It would likely be a battle of attrition and rhetoric before one party made the first move.

Now slowly grinning with a hint of sardonic inquisition, Shigure walked ever closer to the smartly-dressed man - hands still raised beside his head with an innocuous charm that was only somewhat sincere. 

"You're inviting suspicion upon yourself, human. After all, the innocent man need not be so defensive."


- - - - -


[362] | [664]

At first, Lucas thought he misheard. Did the Shinigami just refer to himself in the third person? Like any reasonable person, Lucas immediately brushed that idea aside and continued to hear the Shinigami out. Then, he did it again. And again. By the fourth time, Lucas wasn’t even sure he was listening to what the man had to say. It was strange, jarring, and he could hardly focus on the actual words over how downright weird of a way to talk that was.

If there was any tension, it was gone now. Despite how much the Shinigami dismissed Lucas’ concerns, it was the way he talked that convinced Lucas he posed no actual danger. He was probably just another Shinigami who was here of his own volition, and that meant that things didn’t necessarily need to come to violence. Good news for Lucas.

“You’re a strange one, that’s for sure,” Lucas commented sharply on his manner of speech. “But you’ll have to forgive my paranoia. Every time one of you have gotten within more than a couple hundred feet of me, it’s usually because you want to kill me. Given those experiences, you can imagine how I’ve gotten a bit defensive.”

Not that this “Shigure”, as he kept calling himself over and over, heard about that. There were many, many Shinigami, and they didn’t all keep track of each other religiously. Unless that was Shigure’s job, he probably had no idea about Lucas or his run-ins with the other Shinigami. Nor did he know what had happened to them, was unpleasant—but non-lethal—as it was.

Maybe he had dodged a bullet tonight?

“So, if you think about it, I have every reason to be rather defensive,” Lucas went on. If nothing else, he could give them some context. “I’ve rather gravely wounded a couple of Shinigami, in self-defense, and your people aren’t exactly known for caring about who started it. So why wouldn’t I think that you’re here, just like they were, to try and take my life?”

Lucas just shrugged and shook his head. Whatever the case may be, he survived them and he would survive Shigure too. Maybe, with a little more luck tonight, he wouldn’t even have to throw a single punch to get out of this one.

“Glad to hear that you’re not, though,” Lucas shifted the subject and the tone right along with it. “My name is Lucas Lightner, by the way. Just be careful, after what happened to me, some other Quincy have gotten about as paranoid as I am, when it comes to Shinigami. I wouldn’t want someone else to get the wrong idea.”

His old wounds still stung. If he was going to be honest with his new acquaintance here, he kind of did want him to get hurt. Luckily, the greater part of him knew better than that.

*****

478 Words

“Actually, Shigure hasn’t caught wind of your exploits yet; his colleagues are mostly likely too embarrassed to talk about it.”

A half-truth. In fact, Shigure had heard of some increased activity in the Quincy population but not of anything specific; he had no idea Shinigami were engaging in direct combat with these so-called ‘Monks of Destruction’ but was not at all surprised.

What did surprise Shigure, however, was the man’s boldness in introducing his Quincy heritage. From what he had seen thus far, the Quincy were not quite as subtle as he had expected for a now dwindling race once fiercely persecuted; perhaps it was the infamous ‘Pride of the Quincy’ that directed this behaviour in resentful defiance of such a tragic past.

As Lucas continued to make his case, Shigure noted an evident change in the man's demeanour; he was guarded nonetheless but slightly more frank - more matter-of-fact. He spoke openly about his paranoia and worry and while Shigure agreed that his defensiveness was entirely justified, he still felt the need to gently press Lucas about something that had amused him since the beginning of their rendezvous.

“Well, why follow Shigure at all? Had you really been paranoid, would simply escaping undetected not have sufficed?”

Following this, the Quincy’s warning prompted a civil but candid chuckle.

“My, my - ‘get the wrong idea’? Are you suggesting that Quincy may be on the offensive against the Shinigami?”

He took a tentative pause to gauge Lucas’ reaction but noted nothing. Making an effort to remove any trace of whimsicality in his voice, Shigure then continued in a sterner tone.

“Despite popular opinion and what you may have been told by your peers and forefathers, you need to realise that there is no official nor current ultimatum demanding the persecution of Quincy. There has not been such a thing for a fair few centuries. In fact, we're generally encouraged to have zero interaction with Quincy-kind.”

Then, a wistful expression crept upon Shigure’s face as he shook his head with contrived solemnity.

“So, any Shinigami you might have happened upon were probably on patrol for Hollow or lost Pluses. As such, the ones you have fought were probably acting on their own whims… which, as pointless as it may now seem, Shigure would like to apologise on their behalf.”

The white-haired Shinigami gave a curt bow before returning a placid gaze at Lucas.

“Anyhow, this one suspects something else at play here. Something beyond hostile curiosity and defensiveness. Might Shigure daresay… vengeance?”

- - - - -

[418] [1082]

Escaping undetected? He understood what the Shinigami meant by that alternative, but Lucas could only shake his head at the suggestion.

“If I want to understand why you insist on attacking me, whether it’s simple duty or a grudge,” Lucas began. “Then I can’t very well run away every time I happen across one of you, can I?”

His manner of speech was still very, very strange. Lucas knew he could get almost unnaturally formal when he tried, but he never referred to himself in the third person. The fact that this man did, consistently, was starting to grate on him. It was like reading a book that constantly switched tenses, and it was just downright strange. If this Shigure wanted him to relax and feel at ease, his choice in words was not helping his case whatsoever.

“It’s that very kind of misunderstanding that I want to avoid,” Lucas answered again. “Quincy activity has been at far, far higher levels than normal. No doubt, you and your friends in the Soul Society have noticed that. Thinking that the Quincy are on the offensive is exactly the sort of thing I want to avoid—difficult, of course, when they keep forcing me to defend myself.”

After that, Lucas just shrugged. What was he supposed to do, his gesture said, when his life was put in physical jeopardy multiple times, like that? He knew exactly how some war-hungry Shinigami leaders could spin it, too.

‘Another violent Quincy nearly takes the life of an innocent soldier of Soul Society!’

These were the exact sorts of things that Lucas wanted to avoid. So, when Shigure revealed that he hadn’t even so much as heard of Lucas, there was an audible sigh of relief from the man. His shoulders relaxed and he felt his own sweating start to stop. The anxiety had been building to a new high for him, and only then did he realize that he needed a better handle on it.

“Well, then I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” Lucas answered him, verging on quiet laughter. “But if you’re truly ordered to avoid Quincy, you should ask your colleagues to heed those orders. Twice now, I’ve had a fight started for me, not by me, and it was a Shinigami both times. I’d rather it not come to that, over and over.”

Especially because, next time, he might not be so lucky as to get out of it alive.

Like right now, Lucas realized, when Shigure questioned whether or not Lucas’ motives were what they said they were. After all, if he really had been singled out twice now, would it be that much of a stretch to assume he wouldn’t want to start a fight himself, beat down another Shinigami, and take a little revenge? Wouldn’t that be justice, a proper form of vengeance for him to take?

“The only thing I want is for Shinigami to stop peddling their hoax about the balance, and to leave us alone,” Lucas let the exhaustion show through in his voice. “That’s all. I’m tired of those excuses being what causes my medical bills to pile up. Vengeance, Shigure, is the last thing on my mind.”

*****

533 Words

A hoax?

“Oho! You say such odd things, Mr. Lightner! Now why would the Shinigami perpetrate such an elaborate, fiendish hoax?" 

To simply have the moral high ground in massacring your people?


Perhaps.

While animosity and biased opinion came as no surprise, Shigure found himself puzzled that contemporary Quincy doctrine would be so vehemently opposed to all that the Shinigami represented - especially when the concept of the Balance itself was essentially as established and widely-accepted as fact.

“Why go through all the effort? Why not simply let things be? Given your already dim view of the Shinigami, would it really be unrealistic to see that given the opportunity, we’d all be slacking and just allow the Quincy to do all the work of governing Earth?”

Then, with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, Shigure could not help but press Lucas further, all the while maintaining his whimsical mannerisms and tone of voice.

“Or are you now suggesting the Shinigami are inherently and intrinsically bloodthirsty - killing for sport and the like?”

Admittedly, it was not quite the far-fetched extrapolation. Violence between Shinigami bordered on commonplace and Shigure had also heard of those who caused trouble with the locals in Rukongai on a somewhat regular basis; they had affectionately called it 'collateral damage', a phrase to which Shigure had responded angrily - an emotion uncharacteristic of the usually unperturbed young man. While the majority of his colleagues were not the same armed thugs that the Gotei were famed as millennia ago, in the eyes of the Quincy, perhaps one bad apple really did ruin the whole barrel.

And yet, even in the Gotei's darker times, their duties had already encompassed the role of psychopomp long before any formal organisation and introduction of discipline. If at least one Quincy held the belief that the Shinigami's responsibilities constituted a sham, it was entirely reasonable to expect many more to believe the same thing. But who was perpetrating such an argument? Lucas had dismissed claims of some Quincy offensive on the horizon but to Shigure, this was nothing short of logical deduction; had there been no hatred and hostility, why preach such madness to foster friction between the two races? Needless to say, relations between Shinigami and Quincy had always been awkward to say the least but the recent goings-on made Shigure question the legitimacy of Lucas' supposed aversion to vengeance.

"Please, do enlighten Shigure on why you think the Balance does not actually exist - perhaps we can come to some mutual understanding."

Or not.

---

418 | 1500

“You’re kidding me, right?” Lucas asked, incredulous. He genuinely didn’t believe the question. “Are you really suggesting that you can’t think of any reason that the Shinigami might employ propaganda like that? Here’s a few, for your consideration: Fear. Envy. A lust for control. Not to mention general douchebaggery.”

It wasn’t really a word, Lucas knew, but he didn’t much care. It fit.

Lucas just shook his head. There were still quite a few concrete tiles that separated them. If Shigure got tired of Lucas badmouthing something that he seemed, at least on the surface, to truly believe in, he had some distance to work with. The streetlights above their heads, white and pure, made it easy to see the man clearly. The road to their side was mostly devoid of cars as well, though the few that had passed had drivers that gave Lucas a strange look. He appeared, to them, to be talking to the air.

Another oddity of Quincy life that he had just learned to accept.

“Have you not thought about this before? Really, not once?” Lucas continued. His voice was softer now, but still carried thick disbelief. “Think about it: Purifying souls of Hollows, I can get that. It’s misguided—they’re monsters and should be punished for their crimes with destruction, not saved. But I get the mindset, even without the Balance involved. Passing over souls, too, it makes sense even without this ludicrous idea of yours.”

So he gave Shigure something to think about. The Shinigami had plenty of potential reasons to setup this propaganda in the first place, and none of their actions were without point unless the Balance really existed. They’d still have reasons to make them the policy anyway, even if Lucas had reasons of his own for disagreeing with them—like with Hollows.

What does all of this suggest, Shigure? Lucas silently asked his new acquaintance. He paused, too, to see if he’d chime in with his own answer—but was too impatient to wait long at all.

“But the Balance is how Shinigami claim superiority and command over Humanity’s fate,” Lucas finally tagged on that little detail. “That’s the purpose this propaganda of yours serves, and wanting that control makes plenty of sense from the perspective of tyrants. And what better way, Shigure, than to have that propaganda be inherently unfalsifiable. The only way to confirm the Balance is to destroy it and see if the world ends! And why should the Shinigami let that happen?”

Lucas leered across the sidewalk at the man. He egged him on, dared him to take those few, thoughtful steps and come to the same conclusion he did. Lucas had been thinking about this for years, so these questions were nothing new to his ears.

“I mean, have you never considered just how convenient that is?” Lucas asked him directly. “How great it is to have your destiny as leaders of the spiritual world decided by something that, if tested, would wipe out humanity? How could you design a better lie than that?”

Then, finally, he shook his head.

“Utter horseshit, all of it.”

*****

521 Words

While the man's tone was mostly unchanged in answering the question, Shigure could surmise from his argument and the contents therein that an increasing agitation was already present. With the initial sense of hostility having only been swept hastily and temporarily under the proverbial rug, it was quickly becoming apparent that simple awkwardness may well not be the sole outcome of their debate. Even so, he entertained the Quincy for a while longer.

"Oh dear - 'general douchebaggery'?" Shigure chuckled with genuine mirth as he repeated Lucas' insult before continuing. "Attacks ad hominem seems rather unlike you, Lightner-San. Besides, you seem to have been simply listing human vice - flaws that we all are guilty of some way or another. Do Quincy not also exhibit fear? Envy? Tyranny? Cruelty? Shigure does not seek to justify all the actions of the Gotei, nor is he qualified to do so - but who are you to doubt its legitimacy?"

In truth, Shigure had thought about the logic of the Balance and, at times, he too harboured some degree of doubt. However, as far as he was concerned, the Quincy was painting a one-dimensional image of the Gotei - that of an armed syndicate that seemingly had an absolute monopoly over the transit of souls and even of Fate itself. On the other hand, the Quincy would be a noble resistance - the voice of the downtrodden, forgotten, and the unheard. The idea was an amusing one but the premise was serious nonetheless and not completely without logic. After all, the infamous quote 'power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely' held true in the majority of cases more often than not. 

Perhaps the Gotei really had been propagating the Balance ad ignorantiam - but then what? What could even come of such a revelation?

"You strike Shigure as a man of tact - but surely, you do not aim to test this theory?"

Exhaling slowly and deeply to buy himself some time, the Shinigami then inspected his hands which, as calloused as they were, still belonged to a man lacking the sufficient life experience to continue such a taxing debate.

"Consider this. Say Shigure offers you three cups of tea. The first is of a fairly mediocre variety, steeped in lukewarm water and has been subject to generally poor handling - but is still drinkable and, within reason, won't upset anyone. The second is an exquisite blend: nuanced, layered in flavours and in texture - perfect, you could say. The last cup is actually poison."

Shigure took a pause to see if his analogy was falling upon deaf ears but continued when he realised he did not care.

"The first cup of tea, in all its shabby, embarrassing mediocrity, is clearly labelled as such - but the latter two cups are blank and there is no way to distinguish the two from each other. Either one could be bliss - yet either one could also spell oblivion."

Shrugging now, Shigure cast an unusually disdainful look at his verbal sparring partner and hoped that their exchange would remain as such.

"Which cup do you take? Do you take the compromise that guarantees safety? Or do you really so vehemently believe in 'nothing ventured; nothing gained', Lightner-San?" He asked, the latter part of the question clearly barbed and bearing the sort of tonal emphasis that implied stupidity and shortsightedness on the part of the Quincy.

Horseshit?

"Yes, yes, call it what you will - but what would even be the alternative? How would you deal with, say, the Plus over there watching in fear and fascination of our little exchange?"

Shigure gestured vaguely down an alley into what appeared a courtyard-of-sorts - a nondescript square that housed a number of industrial-size waste bins belonging to the local restaurants and other businesses. Sure enough, even in the low light, a small girl dressed in a green, gingham dress sat on the cold asphalt - a Westerner no less.

Before Lucas could answer, Shigure had already turned his back on the man and while he was aware of the dangers of doing so, he was adamant to prove both his aversion to violence and the total lack of relevance a Quincy would have when faced with a lost soul.

As he paced towards the cowering spirit with a friendly and almost bouncing gait, he momentarily turned to see if Lucas would be accompanying him, beckoning him with a raised pair of eyebrows and a vacant smile he was known for.

---

740 | 2240

Shigure, it seemed, wasn’t impressed by Lucas’ particular vernacular. Or, at least, that’s how Lucas could imagine him expressing himself given his strange and outdated style of speech.

Lucas just shrugged and smiled, “What can I say? I’m a Millennial.”

He doubted the man would know what that meant.

“But I think you make my point for me,” Lucas continued, his smile faded into something more neutral. “All of those human vices, all of them a decent enough explanation for the lie, and the Shinigami? Just as subject to them as you or I might be. So, I can doubt the legitimacy of anything you say as easily as I can doubt the legitimacy of any other human, no matter the form they take.”

They were just dead humans, after all. Or, as Lucas’ father once mentioned, certainly some of them were born in the Soul Society itself. His father seemed convinced of the idea, but Lucas thought there was at least the chance that souls weren’t fertile without a human body to surround them. It just seemed so odd to him, to imagine ghosts having babies.

Either way, they were still human at their core.

Despite the rebuttal, of sorts, Lucas wanted to believe he saw a twinge of doubt in the man’s eye, just then. Even a single Shinigami that might not fully believe their own propaganda, would talk about it. The idea would spread. Maybe, just maybe, that would lead to some change.

“Test it?” Lucas repeated, but only for Shigure to jump right into his test.

A single cup, known to be safe tea. Presumably, its label was meant to be trusted for the purposes of this thought exercise. The other two, unlabeled, one of them perfect and the other poison. He saw where this was going and, in a way, it was an apt comparison to make.

“I’d take my chances,” Lucas admitted without hesitation. “I’d rather die than continue to live on my knees, subservient to someone else just out of fear for my own safety. Whether it’s me, or someone else, the right cup of tea will eventually be chosen—and then the whole gig is up.”

Another phrase he didn’t expect the Shinigami man to immediately grasp, not that he expected him to. At this rate, Lucas was starting to think he might be a couple years old. He was surprised he even knew his language, but he wasn’t going to question where the dead guy picked up his English.

“But as for the Plus…” Lucas’s voice trailed off and his eyes followed Shigure’s gesture to see the small girl in a dress. It was oddly Western, given that they were in the middle of a Japanese city.

Lucas sighed at the sight.

“Well, that’s a different matter entirely,” he explained and looked back to Shigure. “I can give her total non-existence. Or you can give her continued life, albeit in that cesspool you call the Rukon-something. As much of a living hellhole as I hear the place is, and as barbaric as the desperate people can sometimes get, at least she’d get to live and, just maybe, get to see the rest of her life.”

He couldn’t really help but shake his head at the thought, but what was he going to do? He wasn’t going to stop Shigure, he knew that the Shinigami could save the little girl from this world and the monsters in it. But that didn’t mean he had to like the quality of the life that would await her.

But, at least, it would be life. Of sorts.

*****

602 Words

The Quincy’s words stung.

Not solely because his counter-argument was entirely justified, however. It was true - after all, doubting the legitimacy of another was an intrinsic right and privilege for all those who are sentient. Essentially, it was an exercise of free will. Such a non-revelation would not amount to a thorn in Shigure’s side - even if he did now realise the ridiculousness of his own words prior to the Quincy’s logical rebuttal.

The execution of what seemed, at least on the surface, poetic justice and civic duty in challenging authority would also still not agitate the Shinigami beyond simple sighing and the furrowing of the brow. In fact, it was an approach Shigure knowingly lacked and was something he begrudgingly respected in the Quincy standing before him. Lucas’ defiance and willingness to take risks shone out like a beacon to Shigure as if to remind him of the age-old adage: audentes Fortuna iuvat.

Fortune favours the daring.

In the way Lucas had answered his question, Shigure knew the Quincy was someone, something, extraordinary. In such cases, the majority of people would have settled for what constituted the least risk. The majority of the population also amounted to mindless sheep. Had Shigure, in his years of stagnation and complacency, joined this population of sheep and inadvertently become an unquestioning assenter to a corrupt regime?

Alas, not even this alone would prompt Shigure to take any immediate action and would only linger in his mind as a kernel of reasonable doubt that bordered on significant. Even so, what would be the point?

Instead, the final straw came later; it would be the attack on Rukongai which, by proxy, was also an attack on his past. Worse still, it was a grim and forceful reminder of who he once was and where he came from: the dog-eat-dog nature of such a place, the atrocities committed by those those who resided within it and, as his baleful eyes suggested, sin not even he himself was exempt.

Shigure suddenly began shaking.

Look into your past, a small voice whispered.

Even as Lucas continued, Shigure was already not listening and, in his quiet seething, inferred that the man wished to stop him.

Total non-existence?

Seemingly entranced, he raised a single hand and closed it; the defiant Quincy’s actions would be taken as a simple obstruction to authority which, if his now-clouded judgement and memory recalled correctly, necessitated unannounced restraining.

“Bakudo #4: Hainawa!” He rasped with a snarling animosity uncharacteristic of the typically mild-mannered Shinigami.

---

415 | 2655

The silence deafened.

Lucas realized only too late that the man had stopped really listening. He had no idea what was going on in the black-clad man’s mind, only that he seemed to be lost in his own little world. There were a few moments of complete motionlessness as he simply waited.

Somehow, he had come to be very interested in what this Shinigami had to say in defense of what they did. After all, Lucas felt like he made good points. Maybe he really got through to the man, maybe he had pried open eyes that had been glued shut by decades and decades of brainwashing? Or, maybe, he was doing something else—his father mentioned that the dead had some very strange habits.

When he moved, he lifted his arm. What followed next was just a sound, the crackle of something like discharged electricity. Lucas blinked, and when he did, the man’s hand was surrounded by wild rings of gold that seemed to dance through the air. Then, when Shigure closed his fist, it leapt out at him as a semi-material rope, more like a serpent.

Instinct took over the moment that Lucas first heard the magic spring to life. He barely noted the name of the spell, for reference later, and raised both hands—suddenly gloved in luminescent blue—just in time as the rope lashed out at him.

First, Lucas grabbed it by the front, like catching a spear by the tip. The golden light burned against his gloves of energy and gave off a high-pitched hiss as it tried to fight back. His other hand came down further along the length of the bright rope and, with a great, groaning heave, Lucas ripped it into two. Al around him, the spell immediately shattered into a rain of golden particles, carried along by the wind that the spell had whipped up.

Lucas didn’t breathe. After the last Shinigami, he didn’t trust even the corpse of their magic or techniques.

Instead, he charged forward across the street—any air of civility lost—with dark eyes that burned with an uncharacteristic heat. Another Shinigami, another fight, another situation where his life was on the line when he himself didn’t start hostilities. He didn’t want to start hostilities, he didn’t want things to come to this, and he didn’t want to have to kill these Shinigami.

Up until now, he managed to avoid that much.

“Why?!” He shouted as his boots smashed against the concrete with each, charging step, like a bull. The ground shook from his footfalls, but neither the concrete sidewalk nor the asphalt road cracked—he wasn’t quite that powerful.

But when Lucas’ left foot came down, not too far at all from Shigure, everyone felt that. Buildings rattled and the glass of windows shook in their frames. With his momentum still going, Lucas brought his blue-glowing left fist around in a heavy hook, aimed right for the man’s temple.

Enough to put him on the ground and out cold, if it landed clean.

Just as he did that, a flash of blue appeared at Shigure’s left—Lucas’ right—as a snap of the Quincy’s gloved fingers set off an explosion of blue spiritual energy, and cut off that route of escape with a resounding thunderclap.

*****

550 Words

The gloved fist swung out in a narrow arc, gaining momentum with each millimetre of air travelled as it now flew towards Shigure’s right temple like a sledgehammer. Coupled with his evident height advantage, Lucas’ rapidly approaching fist was a danger that needed urgent dismantling - and for the Shinigami who now saw nothing but red, urgent dismantling was all he knew.

But before even instinct could react, glowing hues akin to a raging chemical flame erupted beside his head in a roaring display of power, temporarily occupying his peripheral vision and sending his sense of balance haywire. Now on the verge of stumbling and desperately biting the flesh in his cheek to remain alert, the simultaneous threat of Lucas’ heavy left hook and the sudden explosion closed in like a pincer, trapping Shigure to the centre-line with no obvious out to his predicament. Bracing against the thundering shockwave with a clenched jaw, Shigure then felt his left ear-drum popping violently and his consciousness threatening departure as the searing heat and howl of discharged energy enveloped him.

The Quincy had fired a blank as a distraction and probably also to spite him, but that only served as a further reminder of the attack yet to come. Quickly raising his right arm, Shigure then pivoted on the spot, rotating his entire body as if spinning on a vertical axis and brought his elbow in a cleaving motion towards the approaching fist, aiming to stop it in its tracks and shatter it.

The subsequent sound rivalled that of the explosion prior and, upon impact, the resulting force rendered the once latent breeze a shrieking vortex, tearing through the quiet night as if a banshee had descended upon the location of their impromptu bout. The Shinigami returned the Quincy's previous yell with nothing but a possessed glare as the blood trickled from out of his left ear, down the side of a pale face, and onto the cold ground.

A pointless exclamation - likely another attempt to distract me.

Unsure if his strike really had broken the man's fist, Shigure decided to take no chances and sought to bring the fight back to his terms and go on the offensive. With his flared elbow still effectively guarding his right side, Shigure then stamped his left foot forward to further close the distance between them as if charging in rapidly and forcefully. This in turn placed his stance vaguely perpendicular to Lucas’ body as he then shot out his left arm like a spear, aiming to wind his opponent with a brutal strike to the solar plexus while simultaneously guarding the left side of his face with his outstretched arm and shoulder.

---

446 | 3101

Blue flame washed over Shigure’s head like a wave from the sea swallowed a surfer. Lucas was almost surprised at the sight of it, even as he watched the explosion singe the white hairs on the man’s head and draw blood from his ear—a burst eardrum, no doubt.

Didn’t this Shinigami dabble in advanced magic? Lucas couldn’t remember the name of it, in the heat of the moment, but he had already seen it out of the strange-speaking Shigure. So why nothing to defend himself?

What else he didn’t expect was how Shigure responded next. Not only did he not use magic to defend himself, he didn’t use magic to retaliate either. Instead, his entire body pivoted around and he swung his elbow about in a wide arc, perfectly timed to catch with Lucas’ own fist: And it did.

The two forces collided with a thunderous roar the shook the street and the buildings nearby. Once more, windows rattled in their frames as Lucas fought an invisible opponent. It would be much longer now, he realized, before people began to stream into the street to see why this strangely-dressed foreigner was making the world shake by swinging his fists at the air around him.

It needed to end, and quickly.

Shigure’s elbow forced Lucas’ fist away from the man’s head, and immediately Lucas grit his teeth as the pain set in. If nothing else, Lucas could tell that the bony protrusion had left one nasty bruise that would probably be an ugly black by the morning. Even just forcing the deflected fist open ached, but not enough to slow Lucas down.

However, the pivot that Shigure did when he moved to stop the Quincy he had attacked had done more than save his quite-literal head. Now Lucas stared at the Shinigami’s profile, and had the other arm pointed plain at him.

It didn’t take a genius to see that the man had lined himself up, perfectly, for a counterattack. Just as expected, the man’s arm lurched out as a blur, both as strong and as fast as Lucas himself. The Quincy’s brown eyes went wide at the sight, and his left hand rushed back in like a whip whose handle had just been tugged by the owner.

Another boom sounded off, as if a jet were breaking the sound barrier over the town again and again. This time, it was when Shigure’s fist collided with the palm of Lucas’ already-bruised left hand. The Quincy grit his teeth harder this time, as he felt the bruise turn into something even worse and uglier.

Then he clenched that aching hand around the Shinigami’s own. He dug his fingers right into the skin and held on as much as he could, as if his life depended on keeping the Shinigami trapped right there.

They were just as strong as the other—escaping wouldn’t be easy for Shigure.

But holding him there indefinitely wasn’t going to happen, either.

As difficult as Shigure’s stance made it for Lucas to counterattack, it did give the Quincy two things

First, it made it very difficult for the man to defend himself from certain angles, but they were angles that Lucas couldn’t reach with his own body. Second, it gave him a perfect line of sight for the nape of the man’s neck—as vital and hard-to-protect area as they came.

It just so happened that Lucas didn’t need to reach it, to hurt the man.

“This is why we hate you,” Lucas told the man in their moment of stillness together.

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

Then, once more, the fingers of his right hand came together and sounded off a quiet snap. That little noise ignited something much louder, brighter, and hotter: A fiery-blue explosion right above the nape of Shigure’s neck.

*****

638 Words