Burn Me [Closed]

There aren’t many people out there who like getting caught in the rain. Listening to the light pitter patters on a rooftop can be soothing—especially at night—but actually getting caught in it? Well, that’s just inconvenient. Hair and clothes are dampened, the lenses of glasses are covered in droplets, and items of import have to be protectively clenched to the chest if they’re to survive the ordeal. Overall, however, getting caught in the rain for most remains as just that: an inconvenience. For one such as Verbrennung it was… a bit more than that.

The Arrancar’s day in Berlin had begun late in the afternoon. It’d been awhile since she’d wandered her favourite country and she could use some time to think, though the Raven was apprehensive of even a brief return to their old routine. Even then the clouds had been hanging fat and grey over the bustling German capital but Verbrennung didn’t spare them a thought, too preoccupied was she with what her next step would be and what it meant to have this new form she could tap into. While she was still resolved to keep training as per usual, the Arrancar couldn’t help but wonder if there was something she should be doing to make more progress, or perhaps someone she should talk to. Maybe another trip to Las Noches was in order.

Verbrennung walked through the alleyways of Berlin as she silently mulled; her arms folded over her nude, charcoal form with her red gaze fixated ahead and the Raven flying overhead. The contrasts between the main roads and the tucked away corners always intrigued the Arrancar. Back here it was quieter as the few people she found in these places did their best to blend in with the brick walls and garbage strewn pavement. On this particular day she spotted an elderly man all bundled up in an old puffy coat sitting against a wall with a dumpster to his left. Most destitute folk Verbrennung encountered were either sleeping, indulging in drink or drugs, or babbling senselessly to themselves, so it didn’t surprise her to see that this fellow fell into the last two categories. The homeless were the same all over the world: invisible to most and repulsive to the few that took notice, so why wouldn’t they want to distract themselves? They had their own fire that kept people away, and Verbrennung could empathize with that. Still, the Arrancar was surprised when the man looked up and gave her grin that was missing more than a few teeth.

“Girly-Death, Girly-Death, all dressed in black. Come to take the baker away to make muffins fer God? What kind of muffins does God like anyways? I bet he likes blood muffins,” he gave a giggle that led into a wheezy, phlegmy cough, “Bloody muffins, bloody muffins! Get it? Like bloody cunts ‘cause he made everythin’, even the cunts. Bloody cunts…" his voice dipped into a grumble as his eyes narrowed suddenly at her, "Stop staring at me!”

She’d encountered the mentally unsound before and she found it odd how an unusual amount of them could see her, even vaguely.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her lips pursing thinly as he tipped his head back to accept a generous mouthful of whatever he had in that bottle.

“Ahh—! Good stuff there. Why you need my name, huh? Are you with them, comin’ to take me away? You bloody cunt!” he snarled, before his expression lightened just as quickly as it had soured, “Unless you really are Girly-Death? I called Death a cunt, haha! I’m just old Bernt, burnt like yer cunt, hah! Come to take me away Girly-Death?”

She took a step towards Bernt, crouching down in front of him once she was close enough. Red eyes set on black sclera stared at the man with pity as she reached her right hand out to him, fingers splayed.

“Yeah. I have.”

It was a quick, clean end—no fire or explosions needed—and now she’d keep Bernt with her forever. No longer would he sit next to a dumpster in a Berlin alleyway, utterly drunk and out of his wits. Now they could be invisible together. The Raven had long since given up asking her why she did this, it was a losing battle.

Night had fallen by this point and with it came the first few drops from the sky as well as an ominous rumbling. Verbrennung’s head tilted back as she stared at the clouds just as their spitting turned into a downpour. Each drop elicited a loud hiss against her skin and caused the woman to visibly flinch. She began to walk mindlessly from the the alleyway, leaving the old man’s body slumped against the dumpster in the rain. Slow steps turned into panicked footfalls as she rounded the corner onto the main sidewalk; her ears filling the distant sound of disembodied chanting.

Witch. Witch. Witch.

Why did it have to rain? Why here, why now? Was this God spiting her even just this tiny bit? Was her damnation not enough? Verbrennung felt… cold. The molten core of her innards worked hard to keep her warm but even this tiny bit of cooling caused the Arrancar to panic and assume she was freezing. She felt so small, so weak, and helpless in the rain. Why did it have to rain?

Something disturbed her then, a voice and a smattering of hurried steps. Verbrennung turned to see a brown-haired woman staring right at her—the shawl of flames dimly dancing from her own shoulders bristling at the sight but it seemed to be at the mercy of the rain as if the water could actually douse the spiritual fire.

The woman wanted her to go away, and Verbrennung couldn’t agree more. She wanted her to go away just as much as she wanted to crawl back to where she came from. It was just so loud in her mind right now, her skin felt so cold, and she felt numerous eyes on her even though the three were alone.

She began to speak just as the Raven crashed into her arms, shivering from the rain. It was usually a stoic beast but neither half liked water. Verbrennung cradled the bird close.

“I can’t… right now. It’s too loud, too cold… I can’t,” her voice sounded lost and distant, “Just go away!”

She hadn’t noticed that her hood wasn’t covering her head any longer – it had slid back during the running, and the rain was soaking her dark locks now as if there was no tomorrow. Small streams of water ran past her temples, cheeks, and followed her skin to disappear beneath her jacket. Usually such things would annoy her, have her curse about being so reckless, but at the moment she had bigger worries than that.

Sizzling, she could swear that the rain was reacting with an angry outcry every time it hit the creature’s skin. For a second Sasha even wondered if there was a bit of smoke every time the raindrops tried to claim their territory in the form of a dark gray patch of something. Because the young woman wasn’t sure that what she saw was actual skin. If so, then this creature was naked. Of course, animals didn’t wear clothes, but this one was shaped humanoid. It could have been a woman if it wasn’t for the eyes, skin, bits of bone covering her face, and most importantly the awful smell of burnt flesh that hung so heavily around her.

Perhaps it’s been hurt.., the thought crossed her mind when something came flying down from the sky. Shifting back cautiously she watched a raven land in those dark arms just to be cuddled to the woman’s chest. Due to some reason it had a pet. It had Sasha wondering if others did, too. As far as she knew they were angry, cold and incapable of anything else but violence. Hence, the feathery thing in her hands looked oddly out of place for the nervous human. Perhaps it was simply another one of them, some small beast which felt threatened by the stranger’s – Sasha’s – presence. Because the idea of a real raven being attracted to something so hideous was ridiculous. Not to mention the acid-like sizzling; from what her green eyes had been able to take in, there was no way that she really wanted to touch that skin.

With a cough triggered by the smell, and an angry look into the ‘woman’s’ direction, she managed to hide a part of her fear by masking it with a massive amount of disgust.

“Well, leave then!” If it was cold then why was it here? Why was it on the street, and where the hell did it come from?

“Instead of wandering our streets, go back to hell, you monster.” Hissing angrily, she felt her courage rise as her fear seeped away with the streams of water which was rushing down the pavement into the gutter.

Rubbing her thumb against the wet stone that was her square ring, she nervously channeled the necessary energy to get the weapon into the world. Bright blue the energy flickered in the dark alleyway as the longbow formed. The arrow which formed soon after was hanging from her free hand, held by fingertips, if only barely.

“You don’t belong here!” She spit the words at her enemy, then quickly aimed. The arrow was pulled back, tip directed at the woman’s chest. Perhaps it would go through the raven, perhaps the beast would be fast enough to move – she really hoped that it wouldn’t. The space between them should narrow down its options, just like Sasha’s. It was now or never. The thing had to go.

“You witch,” the last word was turned into a long hiss when she let go of the arrow.


Words: 580/ 1477

As the woman unleashed a reiryoku arrow, Verbrennung’s arms fell to her sides, allowing the Raven to plop to the ground below. It shot the stranger an orange, beady-eyed stare before taking off into the sky with a hop and a hard flap of its wings.

The arrow hit Verbrennung right in the chest with a sickly, meaty thunk. From both the entrance and exit wounds came a drizzle of blood—glowing with a molten hue—down her sternum and back to the ground below, each drop eliciting an even louder hiss than what the rain caused when it hit her body.

Verbrennung’s red gaze stared down at the blue arrow sticking out of her body, her left hand reaching up to run along its length as if it were more of a curiosity than a threat. Sable fingers wrapped around the light-like protrusion, causing cracks that glowed with a fiery light to spread throughout its structure until it simply fell apart into reishi. Those red eyes slowly raised back up to meet the emerald green of the woman’s: the new hole in her chest beginning to knit itself back together before the bow-wielder’s very eyes.

The archer’s final word had brought a kind of quiet into Verbrennung’s mind, an unexpected hushed state that spread between the two. That word had silenced the incessant chanting that the Arrancar found she simply couldn’t block out, and that fact caused a sickly smile to spread over her face. Did it make sense for hatred and a sense of gratitude to co-exist in the same moment in the same person?

“Hexe, hexe, hexe,” she murmured lowly in German all the while beginning to slowly step towards the woman, “How’d you know?” a laugh left Verbrennung; a sound that was far too casual for a being of her appearance or for a situation this volatile.

She stopped after closing at least half of the distance between the two, holding her hands out at her sides. She turned her palms towards the archer to reveal the stigmata Hollow holes she bore in each.

“If I don’t belong here then why don’t you make me leave, hm? Send the demon back to Hell where she belongs.” Verbrennung held her arms out a little further as if to say ‘come on, now’. This stranger had sparked within the Arrancar a kind of rage she hadn’t felt before—an emotional cocktail of anger, resentment, and eagerness all mixed together with adrenaline. She didn’t just want to burn the skin from little miss bow’s body, no... She wanted to let her fill her charcoal body with arrows. She wanted to see the futility and fear spread over her face as she realized she had no hope of banishing this monster. Then, and only then, would she kill her.

“I have a question for you first, though—well, two actually,” her lips twitched upwards even more so then, “What’s your name, and do you believe in God?”

The bird had disappeared into the night a moment before the arrow had hit its target. Relief surged through Sasha’s body when her attack turned out to be a success. It pierced the creature right where she had wanted it to – through its chest – and she couldn’t have been prouder about today’s accomplishment. That was until she realized that her opponent wasn’t fazed by the glowing blue twig sticking out of its torso. The gray skinned lady didn’t even make a sound, and instead of panicking, screaming or falling, she simply broke the arrow into a thousand little pieces by doing nothing else than touching it.

Wide-eyed the human took a step back. Her shoes made a squeaking sound on the flooded concrete as she tried to create some distance between her and the enemy. If one arrow didn’t do the trick, she had to fire more of them. The blood looked like liquid fire, and it suddenly frightened Sasha to be this close. She shouldn’t have made herself known, shouldn’t have spoken first. With her bow she could have aimed for the head from the end of the street – she could have run right after, probably should have.

I can still.. still run

‘Hexe’ sounded like ‘heks’, Sasha felt herself growing sick. Her stomach twisted awkwardly. Something sour was already crawling up her throat in hopes to get out. Know?

“I di-,” Afraid, she was afraid and needed time to calm down. “I don’t know, I just – you’re not like me.” She stubbornly tried, tried so hard to be brave, but the distance between them was shrinking. Another step back brought her onto the sidewalk and the second one had her back bumping into the hard edges of a brick wall.

“Just stay away from us, you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t do this.” Fuck, she was already panicking. The wall behind her had Sasha feeling as if she was trapped in a small space, while the sky above her was as open and endless as ever. Breathing turned heavier, but she still managed to aim another arrow at the woman with the pierced hands.

“If you walk away, I won’t fire.” She tried to bargain, hoping for the arrow to be a sort of pain the red-eyed being wouldn’t want to experience again. Perhaps if she would go for the knee or the foot.. then she wouldn’t be able to catch up with her should she run. With her heart in her throat, together with the upcoming bile, she inched to the right, sliding across the wall to get away just enough to fire the arrow and turn around to run.

It shot, going for the neck instead of the knee, but never made it to its target this time. A heavy thud echoed across the street together with the sound of cans rolling across the uneven stones. The student groaned, her foot could still feel the bag of trash she had stepped on. She shook it, violently. A second passed before the thing was off her foot, by then there was no sign of a bow or any arrows.

Time, if only she could buy her more time, more distance.

Just answer the god damn questions, get up. Stop fumbling, oh my god, stop being so clumsy.

The stones were cold and slippery beneath her hands as she turned around and picked herself up. “Sasha..” a mere mumble. Green eyes were looking for an escape. She shivered. Everything was wet.

“No, there is no God. And you.. you’re not the devil, you’re just.. one of them.” She quietly breathed out as if speaking louder would anger the creature. The throbbing in her ankle made itself known, but didn’t stop her from suddenly turning and bolting down the alleyway in hopes to erase the mistake of ever approaching the sizzling stranger.


Words: 642/ 2119

Her smile only widened as the girl stammered and fumbled about. There it was, she thought to herself, the fear and realization at the gravity at just what she’d gotten herself into. Verbrennung wondered just how much adrenaline was bumping through the archer’s veins and how hard her heart was pounding per minute, especially as her back hit the wall. The anticipation had the Arrancar’s shawl of fire dancing wildly, no longer was it cowering from the rain just as she was no longer cowering from the rain.

“Shouldn’t do what…? Oh—you mean that?” She thumbed over towards the dumpster where a man in a puffy coat was snuggled against its side, his face obscured from view. He didn’t appear to be wounded in any way but he wasn’t moving at all, not even breathing, “Well, we all need to eat.”

Amusement lined her smile as the archer aimed yet another arrow her way.

“I like fire, though, so I think I’ll hang around,” A snicker came from the Arrancar as she purposefully took her statement and twisted it. Verbrennung didn’t bother to try to avoid the arrow as it was loosed, not that it mattered as it found its home somewhere against the wall. The poor girl had tripped over some trash and messed up her aim! Tonight was just not her night.

Verbrennung halted then, a brow perking above red eyes that were wide with mania and predatory intent.

“Hello to you, Sasha. I’d say it’s nice to meet you but…” She trailed off briefly, the Arrancar becoming acutely aware of each and every drop of cold water that was sizzling against her skin. Each and every drop that wrought with it displaced despair and feelings of isolation, “You caught me at a bad time. I think you know that already, though, don't you?”

“Ahh, you’re right, I’m not the Devil, just a devil,” She gave a disapproving click of her tongue as Sasha ran off further down the alleyway, “You know—” Was all she said before the signature droning buzz of Sonido resounded throughout that dank corner of Berlin, allowing Verbrennung to move swiftly enough to seem to just ‘appear’ right in front of the young woman—red eyes gleaming like hellish, backlit rubies in the dark. In an instant, the burning woman raised her right hand—the limb wreathed in flames—and backhanded Sasha into the wall.

“You shouldn’t blaspheme when there’s an unhappy demon before you. I'd suggest you start praying, Sasha."

The jacket was weighting down heavily on her shoulders, every bit of fabric was soaked either from the rain or the sweat. She felt terrified as she ran down the alley, ignoring the pain in her ankle which reverberated throughout her entire leg with every step she took. Long strands of hair were clinging to her cheeks the way she clung to the hope of reaching the end of the alleyway before those gray fingers would wrap around her arm or shoulder. Her heart jumped with joy, she didn’t hear any footsteps behind her. If the monster wasn’t running then she would get away. All she had to do was get out of the darkness and find a car, a house with an open door – anything, really. Just a couple of steps and this nightmare would be over.

“Wh-?” Eyes widened when a sharp sound was followed up by the appearance of the monster right in front of her. For a second Sasha wanted to laugh hysterically, because this couldn’t be real. People didn’t teleport from one side of the street to the other. There was no way that she was standing in front of her, yet the red, burning eyes told another story. Before she knew the back of her enemy’s hand hit her square in the face. Tumbling back, she hit the ground – only to realize it was the wall she was sliding against.

Tears of pain sprung to her eyes, even with her cheek wet from the rain the skin seemed slightly burned, it stung badly, though, and when she carefully touched her bruised face, she found blood seeping from her cracked lip. At least her jaw wasn’t broken.

Thump thump

She scrambled up onto her feet, pushing herself up against the wall as if the cold brick would swallow her and protect her from any future harm. Wide green eyes filled with fear stared at the witch. The latter was talking about praying but Sasha didn’t even know a single prayer. Should she had she might have tried one, just to please the beast.

“Can we-” the bruise hurt, her pride stung even harder, but the predator was too threatening for Sasha to try to be brave any longer. Her only option was to try to talk herself out of this, and she knew it.

“talk?” She asked, quietly. The blood was salty, it made her feel even sicker – the ever-present scent of fire and everything it could have possibly devoured didn’t help the cause.

“I-I gave you my name,” the smile she brought forth wasn’t a smile, more of a pain grimace full of despair. “why don’t you share yours?” Alexandra tried with emerald eyes blinking rapidly to keep the water out.

The pouring had turned into a thin, gentle drizzling, which only made the flames around the woman worse. Or.. perhaps it didn’t matter whether it rained or now, maybe this creature could simply burn. Catch fire and be alright; the thought had her whimper gently.

Alexandra didn’t want to burn.


Words: 507/2626

The fires wreathing her hand died down as Verbrennung flexed her fingers testingly post-slap, however she came to a noticeable halt. A frown had taken hold of her lips as she gazed down upon her target. Sasha stared up at her from where she'd had been smacked down into the wall and—for the briefest moment—the Arrancar saw the woman as herself instead—lying amongst the rubble of a Seireitei wall. Instead of red eyes leering down at green, it’d been the other way around back then, hadn’t it? Sickly green to widened red. Miscreation to Arrancar. What did that make her in this situation? Was she like him? Sasha seemed so meek in comparison to herself just as Verbrennung had been nothing before the Miscreation. She remembered the spark of determination that that night had lit in her soul and suddenly the fires dancing along her shoulders seemed much more appropriate for the situation.

“Talk—?” She sneered, setting that right hand on her chest where the arrow wound once was—apparently it had already stitched itself closed, “You didn’t seem too apt to talk when you shot me.”

Verbrennung held up her left hand, pointing her index finger at the woman while red energy began to gather just in front of it into a growing orb.

“If that's how you're going to live, then why not die?” The statement caused her to shiver ever so slightly as she spoke the same words the Miscreation had said to her. In her state of mania—induced by the rain and Sasha’s words—Verbrennung had begun to re-enact her own defeat all those months ago. Maybe she could come to understand it more clearly this way, or perhaps she just wanted to have an excuse to hurt this woman.

But did demons really need excuses for that?

The basic Cero fired off towards Sasha, aimed at her legs—at least that's what it appeared to be. Truthfully it was but a hollow shell of Cero energy filled to the brim with generated fire. Once it connected with someone or something, the shell would break and unleash the flames. Verbrennung was curious what the archer would do, what she could do in this situation. She had to be careful, though. Too much spark could burn Sasha up and this whole re-enactment would be a failure. How had he tempered his blows...?

Meanwhile, perched atop a chimney, was the Raven keeping an eye on things and preening itself. It watched the scene unfolding below with as much clarity as it could while being drenched. The feeling of its naturally heated body being chilled always made its skin crawl, but Verbrennung was doing something curious at the moment. It resolved to hold fast for now and let its companion finish what she'd she'd gotten caught up in.

If it hadn’t been for the gravity of the situation she found herself in Sasha might have been embarrassed because the creature was right. Instead of talking to it, she had taken it upon herself to try to kill it without any real hesitation. The sneer was deserved, and a part of the young woman hoped that it would only be that – a scolding. Unfortunately, this was a devil, not a teacher. And as its chest returned to its original – unharmed – state, the humanoid being came slightly closer.

Still tasting the blood Sasha wanted to close her eyes and hide from the world until everything would be over, but knew because of the lifeless body a couple of feet away that doing so would be the end of everything. If she wanted to survive then she had to either run or fight, covering against the wall between the trash would only result in her death, and she didn’t want to die.

The creature’s words came right on time, they forced her to look up with a certain resolve. Of course she was still afraid. Her heart’s slamming against her chest was louder than this morning’s church bells. It’s why the pointing of her arm, and especially the flickering red orb of energy, had her jerk and jump up with a broken bottle she had managed to pick up from the ground. For all she knew it had rolled out of one of those torn up bags, it didn’t matter, it would come in handy – her rational side already knew that it wouldn’t make a difference, but she had to try.

“Shut up!” the command held very little of the necessary authority, yet Sasha let the words fly. Together with her angry growling came the broken bottle, it was hurled forward with all of the brunette’s might, aimed at the woman’s face while the red beam broke apart against her legs in a hellish fire.

She saw the flames before she felt the heat. Tearing at her jeans it devoured cloth and skin alike, burning her flesh beneath and setting the trash around Alexandra on fire. The roaring of the flames mixed with a high-pitched sound of pain, and some seconds had ticked by when she realized that it was her own voice that brought forth the screaming.

Her legs! Her beautiful legs!

Falling onto the wet pavement she rolled across the puddles, once, twice. She repeated the process, then quickly sat up to sprinkle the bits of burning jeans with water. Tears of pain ran down her cheeks, and even when the flames were long gone she was still trying to pour bits of water – which she had managed to scrape from the dirty ground – onto her bleeding legs in hope to get rid of the pain. It wasn’t helping. Pieces of smoking fabric had melted into her skin and flesh, and tugging at it had the young mortal hiss in pain. Her hands shook, she tried to touch her left leg again but the pain only got worse. Aside from the bleeding she could see a faint blue hue coming from beneath all the scorched flesh.

What the hell did she do to my legs?!

She opened her mouth to scream at her tormentor, but that’s when the scent of her own burnt flesh hit her, forcing her to turn to the side and gag. Blood was spit onto the pavement as she coughed, trying to ignore the burning sensation in her legs. They still felt as if someone was pouring hot water on them – which soon turned her coughing into shaking. By then she had turned her head, facing the devil with a hatred filled gaze. “You sick bastard!” Her right leg twitched, she tried to move it but the wave of pain was too much.

“You fucking bitch!” Panting from the pain, the anger and despair she tried to slide back – away from the source of her suffering – by placing her hands next to her side and push herself backward. It worked, but the stones scratching against her open flesh and the remnants of hanging skin was excruciating and had her stop with gritted teeth. There wasn’t a lot she could do, there seemed to be no way out.

That’s why she grabbed the empty can of beer, her bit of hope, and threw it at her follower.

“Go home!” Please, just leave me alone and go home.


Words: 741/ 3367

Setting people on fire always elicited mixed emotions within Verbrennung. On one hand, she felt a kind of excitement that filled her heart to the brim with joy and made her want to grin like an idiot—and she often did in these situations. How could she not when fire was so beautifully destructive at its core? It was like projecting her life onto others and watching as they couldn’t handle the existence she was forced to live. It made the Arrancar want to laugh and laugh and laugh.

And yet anxiety edged its way through her terrible joy—the same cracks that always seemed to be there to remind her that once upon a time, she too was but a mortal that could burn. When it came to setting other sentient beings aflame, Verbrennung swore she could always hear a second, distant scream not unlike her own. It made her heart pound and set the hairs on the back of her charcoal neck on end.

With lips curved into a grin, heart pounding within her chest, and the disembodied, faint scream ringing in her ears, Verbrennung watched as her Cero shattered against Sasha’s legs and enveloped the archer in the unnatural fires the Arrancar wrought. She had to give the woman credit, however, as she'd at least attempted to keep fighting in the form of throwing a broken bottle at Verbrennung’s face. Not wanting to show even a second of doubt or fear, the Arrancar raised her arm so that it'd be impaled by the jagged glass in lieu of her face. Without much thought—but with quite a bit of silent gritting of teeth—Verbrennung yanked the bottle from her arm and tossed it over her shoulder whilst molten material drooled from the several new puncture wounds she now possessed.

"Well that wasn't very nice." She gave a tsk and tut—her statement only being solidified as the archer threw an empty can at the Arrancar. With a quiet snort, Verbrennung pulled her arms back slightly and partially cupped hands. Like a conductor of the most macabre of orchestras, the Arrancar threw her arms above her head—fingers rigidly splayed—in a sudden upward sweeping, and with it came an inferno that sparked to life upon Sasha's very form. The fires seemed to have been simply willed into existence at Verbrennung's beckoning and they spared not the hairs on her head nor the toenails upon her feet. The archer was enveloped completely in a cocoon of flame and the heady scent of burning flesh became inescapable now for it was Sasha's reality.

Taking in a deep breath of the burning stink, the Arrancar’s grin faded and she strode over to the burning Sasha: each step signalled by an additional hiss of steam being added to the choir that Verbrennung’s form created in the rain. She only stopped once she stood right before the woman who looked more like the Arrancar now more than ever, and she stared down with her luminous eyes for but a second before sinking down into a quick crouch.

Red met green as Verbrennung perched on the balls of her feet and rested her forearms on her knees like a parent addressing a naughty child.

"You have evolved," She murmured, her voice holding no malice or mocking to it. It sounded more akin to... empathy, "You can't see it, you may not even feel it, but you have changed. Whether you continue to evolve or not… is up to you.”

Verbrennung stood then unceremoniously then—up just as quickly as she had crouched. She remained in place, watching Sasha for but a fraction of a second as water ran down the Arrancar's face and nude form just as it coursed over the archer's own burnt body.

“You’ll understand one day, Sasha.” At that, she turned around and began to walk away in the opposite direction, further into the alleyway and around the corner. Only once that telltale steamy hiss had silenced entirely would Sasha know she was safe at last from the witch.

And yet all Verbrennung could think about as the distance between her and her former prey increased was why the Miscreation had done her such a kindness.

With the traces of acrid Reiatsu snarling in the distance like a beacon, it took no genius to associate its uncharacteristic heat with rampant spiritual activity. However, this was no Karakura and for Berlin to be harbouring such powerhouses, a simple exercise in logic suggested an abundance of Quincy - this was the location of their supposed stronghold, after all.

Extended trips to the Realm of the Living should have gotten increasingly infrequent following his promotion to the Third Seat but Shigure had found excuses nonetheless: research, field investigations, fact-finding - all manner of jobs and responsibilities that were all essentially synonyms of each other.

All in the name of Medicine.

Shigure’s present behaviour was hardly the result of irresponsibility but now that he was no longer expected to heal the rank-and-file, what else could he do but move on and further his own horizons? Hierarchy was strict and unyielding and this meant all sorts of very particular rights and privileges; forgoing such tradition would have been condescending for all the other gears and cogs within the system should he insist on working as a simple medic.

Upon taking up office, an entourage of servile assistants had reassured him time and time again that his healing hands would no longer be needed on the hospital floor. In their words, his job was not ‘doing the job’ but ‘getting the job done’. It was a ludicrous proposition and the irony of it all pained him; having become a highly proficient practitioner in his chosen art of Kaido, he was now barred from doing what gave him the strongest sense of purpose - the very thought putting a bitter smirk on the young man’s otherwise blank face. Instead, he was expected to perform vague tasks such as ‘managing’ and ‘furthering the understanding and practices of Kaido’.

Thus, in an attempt to satisfy this latter part of his job description, Shigure had taken to Germany partly to study the latest in medical technology so that similar implements could be implemented in the Seireitei, but also as a sabbatical of some sort. By taking a short leave from the nondescript interiors of the General Hospital, he hoped for some flash of inspiration that would help him in reforming the Medical Corps to his design upon his return - one which permitted even the most senior to do the dirty work if and when necessary.

As Shigure plodded through the quaintly-European streets of Berlin, the shuddering remnants of a dying flame called out to him - seemingly a plea and appeal for his attention. It was a faint presence occasionally eclipsed by a blanket of searing heat, its qualities transient and in-quantifiable as if it were but a tiny kernel of fog at rest but, at the same time, strangely visceral as it flickered.

A Quincy? Heavens, not another one.

The Shinigami escaped his Gigai with a whooshing sound, leaving the stuffily-dressed, umbrella-wielding shell to wander the nearby shopping precinct as he himself took to the air, bounding atop the skyline to whoever it was that needed his immediate assistance. Once again, it was a force other than medical responsibility and duty that compelled him to be at the dying's side - it was the least he could do.

His prospective patient was easy enough to find - a charred body of a girl still sizzling somewhat in the light drizzle, her darkened form blending in with the rain-stained pavement of the alleyway in which she had fallen.

How fitting.

There was some irony in treating yet another burn victim -- another Quincy, no less -- as if it was Fate that had guided him to the burnt and discarded. Or perhaps it was simply in his very name - to be the timely rain that washed away the suffering of those prey to all that the world offered: its volatility, its capriciousness, its cruelty.

Extinguishing the lingering cinders with a wave of his hand, Shigure flickered beside her, inspecting the broken girl presently laying curled like some macabre fetus, small columns of smoke curling from her body as if to obscure her partial nudity. Even so, Shigure could tell from experience that she was still, albeit scarcely, conscious, and the motes of Reishi surrounding the Quincy were further testament of this.

"That won't do," Shigure muttered pensively to no-one in particular before tranquilising the girl with a silent casting of Inemuri, confining her thoughts to a dark, blissfully distant corner of her own mind.

Shigure then immediately set to work, raising two hands and allowing a cascade of green, viscous energy with an almost gelatinous consistency to coat the lower half of his patient's body. A quick glance had been enough to determine that her legs had been subject to comparatively more abuse and would require more immediate and focused treatment should she avoid the necessity of a double amputation at the thighs. Watching tentatively as it seeped into the ruined flesh and caught whatever dust and miscellaneous shrapnel that had since become embedded, Shigure noted great cruelty on the part of the girl's assailant; the amount of damage sustained had been far more than would be necessary to incapacitate and what was left of her lower limbs had an appearance reminiscent of something perhaps better-suited for a dinner-plate.

While scraping sections of exposed, soot-blackened bone with a specialised tool in one hand and manipulating the jelly-like mass with another, he continued to simultaneously cleanse and sooth the Quincy's most glaring of injuries, staring blankly as the muscles and ligaments mended themselves under the flickering streetlight. The stench of burning flesh had since subsided but the lingering scent of singed fabric and other synthetic materials in the girl's presently unrecognisable clothing continued to creep into Shigure's nose. Worse still, traces of elastane had melted and bubbled over vast sections of her damaged body, clinging to her like an alien organism.

After producing a scalpel from one of the many pockets sewn into his sleeves, Shigure gingerly cut at the stinking, rubbery film to rid his patient of her cocoon. As this happened, her bare legs had taken on an almost oily sheen as he moved on from her healed lower body to treat the uniform burns still plaguing her torso and waist. Cutting away further sections of completely charred clothing with precise incisions and tears, he managed to suppress a grimace as the scent of burnt flesh enveloped him once more. With more sections of skin now exposed, his trained eyes lingered on her more private regions no longer than necessary as he determined his next steps in treatment, healing the remaining injuries systematically and without even a trace of alarm showing on his face.

Before long, the girl's body had been restored and with it now glistening like faultless porcelain in the rain and dim, dreary light, there was now not a single blemish that might have pointed to her horrendous experiences that day. For his own sake as much as hers, Shigure then carefully wrapped her chest, waist, hips, and groin area in generous layers of bandaging before throwing his travelling cape over her newly-repaired body for good measure.

And with that, Shigure took a cross-legged position beside his patient and waited quietly as he sensed her consciousness resurfacing from the depths.

---

1210 | 1210

The beer can bounced off the dirty stones before rolling out of sight. The creature was coming closer and closer, it’s fires alive beneath that gray skin. There was no way she could stop the demon from killing her, all she could do from here on was hope for it to be merciful. Of course she didn’t want to die, a part of her wanted to beg, was ready to beg but the pain in her legs didn’t give her enough room to decently breathe, so talking was out of the list of possibilities. With a long whiny sound of a wounded animal, Sasha tried to roll over and get away from her personal hell. Her frame twitched, she was ready to crawl even while the stones were scraping the flesh from her open knees, but the beast didn’t allow it.

For a moment she thought the next part of her life to be a dream – everything turned bright, warm, and then unimaginably hot. Before she knew the unreal sensation of being enveloped by hostile energy had her screaming as her world turned into a true nightmare. Mere seconds ago she had thought that her legs were going through the worst type of pain she’s had in her entire life, but now she would give anything to switch the scorching heat which devoured her body for the painful burns on her legs.

It felt as if her skin was melting, bursting. She screamed, but the heat took away her voice. Her lips were cracked, sizzling – the flames even touched her tongue, she could taste the horror which torn apart her body and soul with its magma-like temperatures.

By the time the flames were gone, she was nothing but a twitching piece of burn meat. She wanted to cry, to ask for help – but the only thing she could do was awkwardly shake with gentle motions of shock and stare at the sky with eyes missing any lashes. It was a wonder that she could still see and hear.

“..ll..m-” she cracked, unable to say more than that in her desire to get rid of the pain even if it meant death.

The creature was close, she could feel its presence next to her. It caused her to shake a little harder. All she wanted now was the pain to stop, even if by a little bit. She could handle the maimed legs, she could even apologize to this monster if need be – if only she would stop the torturing, would take away the agonizing feeling of lava being poured down on you.

Please.. please.. I don’t to evolve, I want for it to stop, stop it, please take away the pain.

“..ill.. me.” She voiced her request again. No, she didn’t really want to die, but the state she was in was so bad that there simply was nothing left. If this creature would kill her now then, at least, everything would be over. The eternal darkness waited for her, like an endless dream it would take her from this world. Then her fragile, maimed body wouldn’t matter; she wouldn’t have to suffer because she would no longer exist.

“..ea.e” Please

The voice died, just like the steps caused by the creature as it walked away. Instead of helping Sasha – killing or not – the witch had decided to let her rot on the street. In pieces, physically and mentally, the young human stared at the dark sky while minuscule drops of water landed on the burned and cracked skin, seeped through the smoking rags and worked like needles being driven into every millimeter of her body.

Time ceased to exist, the only thing she knew was that she was dying. Slowly, with every breath she took, Sasha was struggling to remain alive – she wasn’t sure why, why her body didn’t simply give in. It would have been easy to go now, to sleep, but the pain prevented her from peace. Teary eyes stared at nothing in particular when another presence appeared. It wasn’t the witch, it was someone else. She hoped that they wouldn’t run away, that they would call the emergency services and then the latter would put her out of her misery. Nobody would be able to save her from what she was now – her mind struggled with the dilemma.

Beautiful legs, a pretty face – even if she should survive, nothing of that would remain. It hurt. It was unfair. She hated the fiery creature with every aching fiber of her body.

“..lp.” Sasha called out. The rain was still torturing her burned body like the invisible fire tortured her flesh centimeter deeper. Without having realized it, she had turned and slowly pulled up her legs toward her. Everything hurt no matter what she did, hence she tried to simply breathe.

Waiting for something to happen, for anything.

About to try to call out again, she suddenly felt her consciousness drift away. It was tugged from the pain, from her dying body. Hugged by the pleasant darkness the woman closed her eyes and let herself be carried to a sweet nowhere.

Heavy, her body felt heavy. It also felt fresh, full of energy. She wasn’t sure what was going on when she opened her eyes while fully expecting to be hit by the fire from before. Was she in her bed? Was this a nightmare? What happened? - The brunette wondered while opening her eyes. After a couple of moments where she analyzed her surroundings, she knew this was the same ugly alley from before. Though, the pain was gone. She was cold if nothing else, no longer burning.

Drawing a careful, shaking breath, she turned her head to see a young man with ivory hair.

“Am I dead?” She heard herself ask with the same voice she’s always had.

“Are you an angel?”

The slippery stones were uncomfortable – she soon found out that most of her body was naked; luckily some bandages were covering all the necessary areas. It instantly caused her to blush. Averting her green eyes in the process, she clutched the cloak tighter to her chest while sitting up.

Her skin.. her legs.. The pain?

Slowly studying her pale arms, she felt her throat tighten. A large lump was trying to make her cry in disbelief and happiness; she wasn’t dead, she wasn’t burned. It was alright. Green eyes shot up to meet up lilac ones. “What type of magic is this?”


1078/ 4445

“No, no - you’re very much alive actually.”

The girl had awoken with a thorough bewilderment expected of any person brought back from the brink of death and her look of confused relief brought a smile to Shigure’s own face. As his eyes disappeared into tiny crescents, it was obvious that the act of healing gave him a sense of empowering accomplishment - especially when a patient had seemingly lost hope in their own dire circumstances. Perhaps he simply enjoyed proving others wrong and rejecting the cruelty of a given situation but in the aftermath of any instance of healing, Shigure would always be reminded of the good he could do and this was always a cause for inward celebration.

“And no... I’m flattered you'd really think that but ‘angel’ would be a bit of a stretch,” Shigure continued with an amused laugh. “Besides, Little-Miss Quincy, don’t you already know what I am?”

Assuming the nature of his appearance as a Shinigami to be unmistakably obvious to the majority of the spiritually aware, Shigure briefly inspected his uniform as if to reaffirm he was actually wearing it. He was dealing with a Quincy and, judging from past encounters, this loose organisation of gifted humans perceived the Shinigami as a detestable collective of eerie boogeymen; either this girl was simply and utterly baffled that one would help at all or maybe she truly was none the wiser to the caretakers of Life and Death.

As he then peered into a pair of inquisitive green eyes, his smile only widened at the girl’s baffled tone and question.

"Trade secret," Shigure said, tapping the side of his head before laughing again. However, his smile quickly faded when he noticed the girl’s shivering form: each shudder seemingly magnified under the cloak as ripples in the coarse fabric. This weak and vulnerable appearance only enhanced her fragile beauty - but this was no time to admire pretty girls.

Extending his arms outward and holding his hands in an odd, claw-shaped fashion, he then summoned an immense wave of warmth that flooded the alleyway in an all-encompassing embrace. After tucking his hands back into his billowing sleeves, the Shinigami then returned a concerned gaze at his patient.

“Anyhow, are you feeling alright? Do you want to talk about what happened?”

The latter part of his question was perhaps overly sensitive given the amount of time since her less-than-savoury encounter. Even so, Shigure wanted to convey an adamant intention to help wherever necessary - a sentiment also stemming from a wish to understand the nature of the threat that could be capable of such inhumane cruelty.

---

435 | 1645

This odd creature, this magician – her saviour; he joked. It took a moment too long for her to realize that he was joking, but once the information and intent had registered, Sasha managed to gently smile. The fabric she was covered with was pulled tighter against her chest, she felt it pleasantly slide over the naked patches of skin. There was no agony when it touched her and only that fact was already enough for her to turn into an equivalent of jelly.

Flabbergasted and confused, she pushed her brain to piece together enough in an attempt to answer his questions. To start with there was something she had to put straight – he couldn’t keep on calling her Quincy while she wasn’t. With curious green eyes, she warily studied the man before carefully replying. Her voice was gentle, her right eyebrow automatically curled slightly upwards.

“My name isn’t Quincy, I’m Alexandra. If you want to,” she seemed to hesitate but gave in easily. “you can call me Sasha.”

About to ask for his name she inched back slightly when he extended his hands in an odd way. While she didn’t quite expect him to hurt her, she couldn’t be certain what he was planning, hence her instincts screamed in alarm when a wave of warmth came crushing down the alley. Jerking the protective fabric over her head she heard a yelp dying in the back of her throat when instead of some sort of unbearable heat a tingling warmth reached her senses.

It was silly, and it brought forth a blush which reached all the way to the tips of her hears.

“I’m ..fine.” She quietly managed, the soft fabric was held to her chin while she pulled her legs closer to her chest. Sitting down across of the young man in his oddly out of place kimono, Sasha tried to put today’s events in the right order.

Averting her green eyes she stared at the still somewhat wet stones between them. The raining had stopped, she wasn’t sure when. Time had turned into a blur once the torture had started, thinking about the pain had Sasha press her knees further against her chest and soon her face was buried in the cloak which she was using as a blanket. Her frame shook, she didn’t cry but the images, the sensations – she couldn’t stop herself from panicking again. That’s why she kept her face firmly pressed against the top of her knees.

It’s fine, she tried. Whatever it was, it’s gone now. The witch is gone.

Shyly letting her emerald eyes study his features after bringing her head up just enough to peer at the man, she tried to calm down enough to speak. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to talk about what had happened, but keeping it all bottled up and hidden probably wasn’t the best option. Besides, a part of her was curious about this ‘trade secret’ of his, not to mention his old-fashioned style of clothes.

“Something was killing people here, a woman who burned.” Visibly unsettled by her own words, she tried to change her train of thoughts by asking him something she found interesting. “Why are you wearing those clothes? Are you from far East?”


--542/ 4987

“Oh?”

The girl was seemingly clueless as to her own true heritage. On the other hand, her lingering shock, while severe, still seemed insufficient for a human that had been wholly oblivious to spiritual affairs. The rate at which she had been healed was also not simply a result of his own familiarity with burns but rather a latent power within her very soul that had hastened his restorative efforts.

In an attempt to hide his own ongoing pondering, Shigure simply smiled and sought to make cheery conversation as he considered his next steps.

“That’s a very pretty name. What does it mean? Um, if you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

His previous offer for the girl to confide had also worked and the truth was one he had suspected from the very beginning; had the threat been a base Hollow, she would simply have been eaten. Instead, the Arrancar in question had effectively tortured her and left her a singed mess; only an Arrancar had the relative sentience to momentarily repress their predatory instincts in forgoing consumption of human prey.

Shigure exhaled deeply as he debated the cost and benefit to informing the girl of her spiritual background and of the world at large. Perhaps ignorance was bliss but at the same time, her very nature had likely been a source of twisted attraction for her assailant - an appeal which had apparently prompted treatment by deliberate immolation. In which case knowledge was power and knowing would surely prepare her for any future threats to her well-being.

It was decided.

“Yes, you’re right. I am from the Far-East - the country of Japan, specifically. My name is Shigure and I am a Shinigami: a God of Death, a Soul Reaper, a Psychopomp of the lost, and a spiritual guide for the broken. By natural extension, that also means I’m technically dead. And you, Sasha, are a ‘Quincy’ - a very special human indeed.”

Sasha would likely be alarmed at this revelation and so Shigure softened his furrowed brow as he allowed for the truth to sink in for a few moments. In the strained seconds that passed, he held his breath, absentmindedly stroking the frayed seams of his uniform with a sad expression as if informing a child of dire news.

“I… uhh… I’m happy to answer any questions to the best of my ability,” he said with uncharacteristic unease. “As I’m sure you’ll have plenty.”

---

405 | 2050

“According to what I’ve heard ‘Alexandra’ is the feminine version of ‘Alexander’, a name originating from Greece where it meant ‘the protector of men’. So, I guess, I’m supposed to protect.. others.” Speaking of which, she had completely failed to protect anyone. And if it wasn’t for this man, then she would have been dead by now. So much for being a protector.

Honestly, the same went for him. Shigure, the God of Death. If things hadn’t been creepy enough so far then they certainly were now. Somewhat shocked, she tensed and even managed to slide back some inches without actually trying to get up. For now her legs felt empty from any energy – she wasn’t sure if she would able to run far enough to get away from this Soul Reaper.

“So.. you’re .. Death?” She whispered apprehensively as if saying something like that would get her killed. Now that she thought about it, it made sense. If he was Death then it was only natural for him to have the ability of giving back – or rather, not taking life if he chose to.

A real life Hades.

Sasha couldn’t help but to shiver at the thought.

“Is there like.. a gate to the underworld in Japan?” She suddenly found herself asking unable to maintain her curiosity. While a part of her didn’t want to believe such tales, she couldn’t possibly ignore the things which have been happening around her at a higher and higher frequency.

“Are there others like me? Other.. ‘Quincy’?” was the next question she needed an answer to.

After spending the last couple of years going back and forth between hunting ghosts and shooting frail arrows at beasts looking like demons from myths, she couldn’t help but to latch onto her newfound source of information – even if it was a ‘Shinigami’.

“Are there others like you?” Was another important piece of information she probably had to know about. If there were then.. why hadn’t she seen them before? Were they rare?

“Do you fight the demons? Like the one which.. who.. me..” helplessly gesturing at her covered body she felt another wave of panic rising from somewhere inside. A couple of moments in silence helped her to collect herself – she didn’t want to break down in front of the man more than she had already.

“You don’t look scary.” You don’t look like her, she wanted to add, but didn’t.


--405/ 5392

Death?

“In a way, yes. But probably not in the way you’re thinking.”

Death - the word held a certain finality to it that simply was not true. Soul, Human, Hollow -- all different states in a fragile equilibrium: a cycle of life and death.

And his job, supposedly, was to look after this Balance — if it even existed at all.

“Well, it’s not exactly an underworld in the conventional sense. Nor is there a specific and singular gate that leads to it… My duties often require me to travel between this world and the afterlife, though.”

Shigure was wary of disclosing too much about the Shinigami but before he needed to tentatively elaborate further, Sasha changed the subject to one he was happier to discuss.

“Hmm. There are probably more Quincy around than you think! Some act fairly independently but there are also many prestigious and well-established families and clans. A lot of their practices are dictated by the cultures and traditions of their respective geographical locations but are vaguely affiliated with one another under the Quincy identity. I hear there's a formal Order of them too, but I don't know too much about all that.”

Pausing for a moment to ponder on what else the girl might benefit from knowing, Shigure blinked in response at her following question.

“Yes, there are many more of us Shinigami than there are Quincy. We generally keep a low profile but times are changing…” Shigure trailed off, his furrowed brow betraying a notion of concern for relations between the two races.

Then, peering back at Sasha, he could do little but offer a small smile and nodded carefully.

“Fighting the demons are one of our many responsibilities — though we call them Hollow instead given their nature. They are actually deceased Human souls who have since lost their hearts to despair and regret.”

Another, slightly longer pause.

“The one you encountered was probably an Arrancar - a highly evolved Hollow. She was mostly humanoid, yes? That’s usually the main giveaway of an Arrancar, along with a degree of sentience that regular, base Hollows don’t tend to exhibit.”

Acknowledging Sasha’s increasing discomfort with the subject matter, Shigure considered steering the conversation in another direction but, again, the girl beat him to it.

“Well, I do try my best,” Shigure chuckled in response to her observation of his own apparent harmlessness. Speaking with a vague pleasantness was a tactic he had often employed during his time as a medic. While some found it sycophantic, it tended to be well-received and was crucial in building rapport with his patients. Trust was an important aspect of any relationship — and trust was what he needed should he convince the girl of anything.

“Can you promise me something? If you ever see another person dressed like me, I need you to run away…”

With the tension between Shinigami and Quincy reaching an all-new high, such advice could save Sasha’s life if she ever happened upon a Shinigami who did not share his more peaceable views. Even so, he was reluctant to give any additional reasoning lest any rapport they had built thus far crumble into distrust. Praying that she would at least acknowledge his thinly-veiled warning, Shigure gazed into Sasha's green eyes before biting his lip with a look of mild unease.

---

550 | 2600

Many others like her. Clans with their own traditions. An Order.

She could barely keep up with all the things he was saying. The information was a continuous stream that threatened to wash her away if she would stop focusing for even a second. Trying to hold on and take in as much as she could, Sasha quickly found herself slipping. She couldn’t swim against this current right now, couldn’t absorb all of this so soon after being brought back to life –which in her eyes was exactly what had happened. From burned to a crisp to unscarred and milky white. Miracles did happen.

Suddenly the tip of her nose started to itch lightly. It wasn’t a strong sensation. Someone could have run a feather over her nose and it would have produced the same amount of pressure – a tickle, something uncomfortable but painless.

Oh no, the stinging that appeared at the back of her throat and spread through her nose soon after the tickling could only be pointing in one direction, and she didn’t want to go there. The rubbing of her nose with the back of her hand was supposed to stop her from turning emotional but it didn’t really help.

Nodding toward him without listening to the last part of his speech, she reached out to grab a gentle hold of his shoulder. Her fingers moved the way they always did. Nothing about her body revealed the trauma it had been through barely fifteen minutes ago. All was well thanks to this man. To this Shinigami. She sniffed, quietly. Then her cheek found its way to his chest and Sasha awkwardly hugged her saviour.

“Thank you!” It came out creaking.

She didn’t want to cry, it’s why she kept her eyes closed as tightly as she could. The stinging feeling in her nose slowly started to pass. She tried to cling to the man without thinking any of her actions through, it just felt natural to hug. Everything was quiet. In silence she sat there, on the ground, in the middle of the street, eyes closed as if that was the only solution to everything.

Curiosity had drowned in the middle of this tsunami of gratitude. At the start the shock had been preventing her from thanking him properly, then the curiosity – cautiousness, too – about who, or what, he was. Now, though, she had the opportunity to say the right words. And she did, again.

“Thank you very much.” A little less hoarse the words seemed to leave a trace of a whisper in the alley. Perhaps it was the wind. She didn’t know.

Swallowing hard, with tears barely holding onto her eyelids, Sasha turned away from him. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand like she had done to her nose moments ago she deeply inhaled. It was time to calm down.

“Sorry,” coughing, eyes a bit red and puffy, she looked down at her lap. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Thinking that she had caught some mild unease coming from the look on his face Sasha felt mostly embarrassed about letting herself go the way she had. One ‘thank you’ should have been enough, she could bet that he knew that she was grateful. Even in the case that she would have entirely forgotten to mention it.

She shook her head, struggling with her thoughts.

“My head is a mess.” she meant to think but found herself informing the Shinigami by her side.


582/5974

With the girl’s face still buried in his chest as she hugged him, Shigure smiled widely to no-one in particular and returned the embrace the best he could from his seated position. It was a touch awkward, perhaps, to stretch uncomfortably in order to even hold her at all but he held her tightly regardless - as if to reassure her that the present was indeed real and that she would not awake in the state he had found her in.

He was no stranger to hugs and, indeed, his line of work meant he was often on the receiving end of teary gratitude. Missing limbs, damaged sight - all were minor inconveniences if he could place his healing hands upon them but it meant more than that -- to him and to his patients. It had become more than just his job and surpassed any sentiment of duty. It was more than simple medical procedure and its value was far above any magical ritual.

In healing the damaged and broken, Shigure offered a second chance -- the gift we all secretly yearn for and the prayer we all privately utter after any lapse in judgement, moment of carelessness or unavoidable disaster. Even so, it was dangerous to become even at all dependent on the notion of escaping consequences and rewriting the past - even Shigure recognised this. After all, not everything could be repaired and not every situation allowed for a second chance.

If only.

As they broke apart from their embrace, Shigure put a gentle hand on Sasha's shoulder as lightly as a bird might perch upon a branch. Then, after tilting his head curiously as if to inspect her, his smile became more bittersweet and his eyes even betrayed a faint sadness that glimmered under the halogen glow above. At the instance of the girl's apology, however, he shook his head and a chuckle escaped his lips, dissipating into the night air as quickly as it had been conceived.

"In my experience, holding in tears is rarely ever worth it," he began, still smiling as an invitation for Sasha to simply be honest with herself.

"Crying over days lost or opportunities squandered might not be helpful but crying for a joyous occasion is a beautiful thing. Would you not agree?"

Clearing his throat to change the subject, Shigure's face fell back into a more neutral expression -- The girl probably did not appreciate his shallow pseudo-philosophy after a near-death experience.

"Anyhow, you need not worry too much about the things I have told you tonight. And, like I said, there are many others like you in the world and I can only imagine the wealth of knowledge they would be willing to share with you."

His voice had adopted an encouraging tone but the same concerns played on his mind: Would it truly be in her best interests to adopt the life of a Quincy?

Perhaps the least he could do for this Quincy was to prod her in the right direction. At the very least, she would be in the company of people who shared her spiritual heritage. Maybe she would even become strong enough to look after herself in the face of danger.

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for life.

Maybe there really was no turning back after that night's events and all that it taught the young girl. Maybe she had no choice but to press on, forward and onward with the facts a certain disheveled Shinigami had imparted to her.

"So what will you do now, Miss Sasha?"

---

605 | 3205