お前はもう死んでいる [closed]

Seireitei possessed a great wealth of services and establishments for the Shinigami to enjoy. After all, a city of that size housed more than just the three thousand—and growing—Shinigami that inhabited it as part of their profession. Civilians of various sorts, with the right connections and families, could operate past the boundaries of the First Districts of Rukongai. They created restaurants, bars, and countless other places for Shinigami to spend their sometimes-generous salaries of Kan. It worked out for everyone, and breathed life into a city that would otherwise prove as sterile as its white stone implied.

Yet certain things still took Shinigami out of the city. Today proved to be no exception as Shirou walked through the dirt roads of his former home. He liked to return and visit the people he integrated into his new life with upon his arrival in the Soul Society. Every time he showed up, the sight of his old, rundown home District put a smile on his face. People still connected to, or part, of his original, adoptive family ran up to him, asked how the pride and joy of the Karasu District was doing over in the Seireitei. The answer was always the same: He was still an Unseated Shinigami in the Fourth Division, doing work he loved, savoring every day.

It was mostly the older members of the extensive, adoptive Karasu family that enjoyed his tales. Projects he worked on, ideas he helped explore under the leadership of the senior members of the Division. He enjoyed moving between Operations and Research both but, he told them—lied to them—that he had little interested in Engineering. Ideas and the day-to-day business of the Division interested him, but supposedly the drudgery of converting paper theory into functional equipment just did not capture his interest.

At all times, his spiritual sense, powerful and well-honed as always, watched the world around him. He got into his habit years ago and maintained it even today. It helped keep him sharp, aware, able to take in the big picture of the surrounding kilometers and the minute details of a single person with equal ease.

Today, for the first time, he felt something in the Karasu District that none of his previous visits showed him: a presence distinctly not of the Shinigami and Soul nature. In fact, the more he closed in on it mentally, the more it felt like something he personally never once encountered here in the City of Wandering Souls.

Something Hollow.

Without showing off any sort of additiona alertness or concern, Shirou strolled through the dirt streets. The Karasu District was much too far out for there to be paved, cobblestone streets, but at the very least the people here could still afford footwear. So he moved through the District naturally, smiling and waving at possibly the only Karasu within the white-walled city on the horizon, even as he mentally focused—a buzz and excitement in his cheast—on the Hollow presence.

When he found her, he found her. A woman’s scream gave away the precise location and gave Shirou a reason to break into a run. The woman in question, older and with some wrinkles on her otherwise plain face, rushed past him in the opposite direction. Shirou, tall and broad as he was, rushed with heavy steps to the open archway of the hut she stood in front of when she first screamed.

In it were sprays of blood that coated the walls. The first thought in Shirou’s mind was a demented child with crimson finger paints who simply smeared the color anywhere their heart desired in that very moment. In the center of it, devouring another, younger woman, sat a raven-haired young lady. A beauty, in fact; something Shirou noticed despite the mess of a corpse around her.

An Arrancar, given the distinctly human look. Skin, hair, eyes; nothing that would suggest she was of the fabled Vasto Lorde class. Her power alone proved that she could not possibly be such a being, which left only the Hollow hybrid as an option.

Shirou had only ever met a handful, and none in the past few decades.

He completely failed to restrain a smirk, the excitement and buzz in his chest from early pushed its way out. All of this time, all of his secret research into the Seireitei’s now-famous controversy created by Kiriko Chinda, and now he had an Arrancar right in front of him.

“Sorry about this, babe,” Shirou chuckled and addressed the Arrancar as casually as could be. She looked so engrossed in her ‘meal’ that, with Shirou’s power muffled like he usually kept it, she may not have noticed him at all.

He raised a single hand and pointed it at her, fingers spread and palm forward.

“But we’re going to have to move this elsewhere, you see,” he explained, as if this were the most normal thing ever. “I can’t have the people around here thinking I don’t kill every pretty Arrancar to come my way—I’m sure you understand.”

She probably had no clue what he was going on about, having simply walked up with no preamble or introduction. Truthfully, Shirou neglected to even consider her perspective on the matter.

Instead, he gave her another word, one that carved a path of blue flame through the next hundred meters of the Rukongai and swallowed the hut she ate in.

“Sōkatsui.”

*****

907 Words

She heard him come. How could she not with how heavy his footsteps were? But she didn't really care. Probably her first mistake, but given where she was and the track record of not finding a single Shinigami in hours was a nice excuse to lean on. So, the sound of plodding did little to tear away the monster's attention from her meal. The corpse was mostly degloved by the time the heroic Shinigami came to the rescue. Strips of flesh had been pulled back to reveal the much juicier bits of muscle and bone marrow. A good portion had been either smeared across her face or was resting comfortably in her stomach.

Still, she found her hunger insatiable. For a brief moment of clarity, she wondered why her appetite hadn't been sated when she broke her mask. Maybe it just took time. Maybe she was going through a growth spurt.

More likely, she was just fat.

Her ears perked at his voice, though she didn't turn. Instead, she tugged out a fleshy innards from the girl's gut and slurped it up like a noddle. Blood splattered in random directions from the silly display, earning a small smile from the woman. It was only when he finished his thought and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand that she tore her attention away from her meal.

After that, a lot of things happened once.

First (and most importantly), the rest of her meal had been thoroughly vaporized in a blast of cool, blue flames that tore through an impressive amount of the small village.

Secondly -- though this happened at pretty much the exact same time -- a burst of static accompanied the cacophonous roar of his Kidō and then the woman disappeared.

Thirdly, as the flames began to disperse and the walls of the surrounding building started to burn away, the Arrancar rematerialized only a few paces to the left of where the edge of the flames had stretched. A wide, impressed look decorated her face as she gawked at the damage caused by the magical arts. Naturally, she had no idea just what Kidō was, let alone what it could entail. So to see something far more refined than her brute-force Cero was surely worthy of her envy.

Unfortunately, she wasn't an idiot, and quickly remembered that he had said something amidst the explosion and him ruining her meal. The impressed smile went slack when she regarded him.

"There's nicer ways to ask a lady on a date," she remarked in a similarly casual tone.

A hand was put on her hip and she rolled her eyes over him. She probably knew the attack was to put on a show -- something told her that he was holding back -- but being blasted at didn't leave for a very good first impression. Still, a smile returned to her face and she straightened her posture. Had her face not been covered in drying blood, there might have been a little bit of charm to the way she looked at him. After all, he was very much so her type.

There was another crackle of static, this one far louder than the last, and then she disappeared. Carried by the swiftness of her Sonido, the black haired Arrancar dashed along the trail of his blast. Only after a step or two -- which translated to roughly the end of the blast -- did she stop and look over her shoulders. She half expected to see another blast of energy chasing after her.

[590]

The walls of the hut disintegrated around Shirou as the glut of sky-blue flame carved through the earth and Rukongai ahead of him. The mangled, half-disemboweled body crumbled into ash in an instant and, soon enough, Shirou stood in an open space with a long column of dust and smoke stretched out in front of him.

Over to his left appeared the Arrancar woman. A burst of speed carried her away from his deliberately non-harmful spell, so she escaped unscathed. Whether she was quick or powerful, or both, Shirou only just now realized: She was a nimble one. She looked fast enough that he realized he would have to work at it in order to keep up with her when she ran away.

Which, much to his amusement, she neglected to do. Instead, she stood there and put her hands on her hips. A smug quip about how he asked her on their little date escaped her lips, which just made Shirou smile again—he really could not stop himself, with her. Whoever this Arrancar was, he would eventually need to thank her for adding so much entertainment and value to his day.

That would probably never happen, he realized, but the thought made him feel good about himself.

After her little jab into his proverbial ribs, she vanished again. Shirou smiled even more when he saw, a second time, just how swiftly she could move. Another whoosh followed suit as a Flash Step carried Shirou into the air after her. Just as he suspected, he quickly lagged when he held back. When his burst of speed allowed him to reappear, he reappeared in the sky and well behind the Arrancar woman who took off.

A second step, at full speed, caught him up to her tattered-robe covered back. Just as he took it, a red orb of energy appeared in his left hand and fired off behind the Arrancar woman and, at the last moment, curved off into the sky and sailed into the distance. It came down just outside the last districts of the Rukongai, leaving an orange fireball to light up the midday horizon.

The pair landed at the very end of the half-pipe his spell carved in the landscape. The Arrancar landed first, strangely graceful despite the mix of dry and fresh blood splattered across her and her ‘outfit’. Shirou landed next, and his perfectly pressed Shihakushō fluttered to a delicate stop. He stretched back out to full height and casually locked his knees—whatever she would attempt, he would not need any sort of mobility to handle it.

“Oh, well, miss, I’ll have to beg your forgiveness,” the sarcasm dripped from Shirou’s voice now that they both came to a stop. A wide smile stretched across his face while he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I’m not usually the one doing the asking, my skills must have rusted.”

Shirou uncurled one of his arms and pointed it off into the sky. A moment later and a roar followed suit, accompanied by a bolt of twisting, white lightning. It carved through the sky, cast their shadows across the dirt beneath their feet, and split a white cloud above into pieces before the spell dispersed entirely.

“Have to keep up the show,” Shirou chuckled as he crossed his arms again. “My name’s Shirou, by the way. And if you don’t mind—and I’m sure you don’t—I’d like to have a chat. I’ve got a few questions for the first Arrancar I’ve seen prowling around the Rukongai, doubly so when she’s such a looker.”

Shirou’s spiritual sense remained at full capacity as he started to talk with her. His mind watched the litany of mundane souls scurry about, all around them. Each tried to gain as much additional distance as they could, to escape the danger of the ‘battle’ going on.

“Starting with why you’re here,” Shirou went on, his smile twitching a bit bigger for just a second. “After all, you never know what sort of dangerous, black-clad Shinigami man might come along and hurl fire at you.”

*****

684 Words

Though she came off as rather simple, the Arrancar was anything but a ditsy bimbo. Perhaps not overly skilled in any one area, but to survive as a Hollow took a certain level of situational awareness that many people would overlook. After all, when literally everything you come across (that can see you) wants to kill you, you learn a thing or two about sizing up your foes. So to say she didn't notice the way his second burst of speed took him nearly twice as far would be a bold-faced lie.

When they both landed on the ground, the Arrancar's bare feet digging into the tilled earth, she gave him a curious stare. A knowing stare, perhaps, though just how much she knew was still up for debate. Maybe even she didn't know what she knew.

"The show?" She repeated, tasting the words with a grin. "I guess that means you can't do all the work, can you?" She seemed wholly uninterested in his questions and even less interested in introductions (the latter for its own reasons, though).

Her hands came together, the heels of her palms touching and her fingers spread out casually. From the center of her hands an inky, black glob of goo formed. It swirled and dripped over her hands, the raw energy fizzling out before it could even hit the ground, and then started to take the shape of something circular. Black tendrils reached out in desperate attempts to free themselves, but were quickly pulled back in to merge with the sphere.

The Arrancar held the sphere for just a second too long, as if hoping he would praise her on such a beautiful work of art. Only when it started to feel a bit awkward did she toss the sphere at the Shinigami. It instantly erupted into a blast of raw, oozing energy that splashed out like tar mixed with mud. Surprisingly thin for a Cero, one might note if they were well versed in the Hollow arts, but certainly more effective. Too slow and long to be a Bala, but lacking the destructive force of a Cero. It was an unrefined art that was, most likely, self taught.

But, despite its imperfections, it slid just to the right of Shirou, missing him almost entirely. If he chose to be cocky and not move, there was a good chance that the uneven edge of the lazer would rip and slice his pristine clothes, but probably wouldn't hit him.

"Oh, I'm just having some fun," she said once the roar of her attack was cut off. Be it hesitance or her own nature, she was certainly curt with words, though sported a friendly, charming tone that matched her figure quite well. "I guess I could ask why someone like you is out this far."

[470]

His golden eyes stared at the black goo between her palms. It twisted and moved almost like the liquid energy of a Cero, yet seemed to be solid and slimy. Then, when it lanced out like a viscous ooze looking to impale him, Shirou reacted on instinct even as the liquid curved just off to the side. He raised a hand and put it roughly in the trajectory of the black spike. A golden, circular barrier appeared just off to the side of it and intercepted the ooze, which struck across the barrier almost like a blade, and shrieked the whole way.

It split off into the sky at an angle. No sooner did the last bit of it leave the barrier did it explode into tiny, black drops that started to rain down onto the Rukongai to their left. Shirou, without so much as losing his soft, easy smile, disintegrated the barrier and crossed his arms yet again.

“Tourists of your kind take a big risk coming to Soul Society,” Shirou answered her. He casually glanced around the area they stood in, almost entirely deserted of souls now for a whole kilometer in every direction. There were pieces of dislodged huts and homes strewn about, half stabbed into the ground or just spread over the dirt. Wooden walls, tin roofs, brick foundations, all sorts of large, heavy pieces of debris.

Those gold eyes of his once again locked onto her crimson, and he spoke the name of his latest spell: “Daichi Tenyō.”

A golden glow appeared around almost all the dislodged debris that Shirou took inventory of just a second ago. It rose into the air, with dust and dirt falling from it as it did. After all the pieces of wooden wall, tin sheets, and brick were a few dozen meters high in the air, they stopped.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured her as the debris lurched forward, whistled through the air, and crashed down. The rubble plummeted from the sky and smashed even more huts and homes to pieces, all around him and the Arrancar. Yet, not a single piece got within more than a handful of centimeters of her.

Dust hung in the air after the barrage, but Shirou remained completely still, with his arms still crossed.

“I’m just visiting some family,” Shirou answered that question, too. “The young woman you ate might have been an adoptive niece of mine, or something of the sort, for all I know. Almost everyone in that District back there is related.”

He scoffed at his own words, then chuckled.

“But let’s not talk about boring, old me,” Shirou laughed more whole-heartedly as he jovially shifted the topic yet again. “Why, I don’t even know your name yet, and you’re asking me why I’m visiting? How am I supposed to propose a place for dinner when I don’t even know that much? Come on now, you seem like a lady with better manners than that.”

He would probably struggle to find a place with cuisine to match her exotic tastes, of course. Amid their sarcastic banter, insignificant details like cannibalism hardly qualified as important to him.

“But, if you insist on keeping yourself mysterious behind that thin, black, tiny, ripped dress of yours? Then tell me this,” Shirou never missed a beat and kept the conversation flowing.

“What do you know of one of your former Kings, Tova?”

*****

567 Words

Shockingly enough, she didn't worry. In fact, she hardly flinched when the waves of debris rocketed towards her and pierce the ground beside her. Not even her fluttering dress was caught in the attack! She wondered if he would have corrected his course last second should she have tried to jump in line of one of the nearby pieces of wood. Considering the skill she thought he possessed...

The thought faded as her eyes looked around, as if searching for something. She even turned, half facing away from him now and started to wander among the wood and tin. Her eyes flicked between each bit of rubbish until they rested on a particularly thin, well cut piece of wood. Her hand wrapped around it tightly and with a single lurch, she freed it from the ground. Only then did she look back at him.

"A name?" She finally repeated well after he had already asked his second question. She gave a thoughtful pause before shrugging. "Don't have one, I suppose." An easy going smile suggested she didn't really care to have one to begin with.

A nearby shred of roofing suddenly flung itself into the air as the woman vanished with a burst of static. All sorts of trash shook or sprung from the ground in the split second it took her to cross the "battlefield" and find herself jabbing the spear-like piece of wood right at the man's neck. When her form flickered back into existence, she looked at him with a playful smile, though clearly had no intentions of holding back when it came to slicing his head clean off.

That being said, with her awkward footwork and the way she clumsily held the spear, it seemed like a bit of a stretch to assume she had any idea as to what she was doing in close quarters.

"And I never heard of no Tova," she said in tandem with her thrust.

It was probably safe to assume she was more interested in something other than his questions at this point.

[343]

If nothing else, she was quick. Especially when Shirou considered how much she lagged behind his true, full power. It also stuck out to Shirou that she claimed to have no name, and no knowledge of Tova at all. Under normal circumstances, that would have baffled the man. How did an Arrancar not know about Tova, after all? The two pieces of information together, though, made him chuckle.

Only after he caught the splintered, broken end of the wooden post she tried to stab him with. He felt the wood bite into his hand but fail to draw blood. He winced slightly, but otherwise kept the light, casual smile that spread his lips. The medium brown post groaned when he gripped down on it tighter, and he felt the wood give way under his fingerprints and create tiny indentations.

“A stunner with no name who doesn’t know the most famous King of Hueco Mundo in centuries?” Shirou laughed a bit more when he finally gave the absurdity a verbal acknowledgment. “Just what are the odds that I would run into someone like you out here?”

With a twist of his hand, Shirou ripped the wooden post from her hand and tossed it into the distance. Timed with a decently smooth motion—for someone of his basic experience, that is—Shirou stepped forward and completely closed the distance between them. The Arrancar woman’s black dress flattened against his Shihakushō. He grabbed a fistful of her exceptionally long, dark hair, and twisted it backwards just enough to sting, and to force her to look up at him.

“You’ll have to excuse how close I am, while pretending to kill you,” he kept us his façade, the sarcasm still thick and the smile on his lips transitioning back to something much smugger. His fist tightened in her hair and he pulled her head back a bit further.

His golden eyes locked with her red. For a moment, he studied her, his mind considering all the options he had with this woman. If she knew nothing about Tova, he could simply vaporize her in a pillar of flame. Alternatively, he could just let her go and not worry about spilling any blood over the matter. He hated to scrub it off his hands.

“Everyone has a story,” Shirou continued—and he knew that fact intimately. “So, miss nameless, what’s yours? Suicide, going for a jaunt about the Rukongai? Or do you just like the thrill of being in mortal danger?

“Both?”

He smiled when he asked that last question. Arrancar always captured the more morbid side of his interests: self-destrutive beings that, the longer they survived, had the potential to ascend faster and higher than almost any Shinigami. Tova proved that and, like a game of chess, Shun Minamoto challenged the assertion with his very being.

“Blast me, after you answer that. Right here,” he spoke more quietly and used his free hand to tap the slightly exposed part of his chest with two fingers. A sarcastic twinge joined his whisper, “I’ll be sure to let go so I don’t rip out any hair, don’t worry.”

*****

522 Words

Ah... There it was. What she was looking for.

Her shoulders relaxed and she let the "spear" slide free of her hands as he pulled back on it. A few pieces of wood awkwardly sliced against her hand, failing to actually break the skin, but left thin, red lines across her pale, otherwise unblemished skin. Perhaps, if given more time, she would have pouted and shown him the irritated scratches and, if she was feeling particularly devious, asked him to kiss it better. Alas, she wasn't given the chance.

She fit against his body rather nicely, she noticed, despite the size difference. His firm, wide chest complimented her more petite shoulders and fuller chest. Even the way her head craned back as he pulled down on her hair seemed a bit too natural. She couldn't help but smile and bite down on her lip in anticipation.

"Oh, please, be as close as you want," she said with no remorse. After all the little flirts he had passed, who cared if she threw one back at him? "I'm almost tempted not to answer just to keep us like this for a bit longer."

Her joke came out a bit too serious, she realized a moment too late. She quickly added a coy, tiny giggle in hopes of seeming more natural. Well, as natural as someone like her could be.

"I'm a new Arrancar," she explained in a more bored tone. Clearly, this wasn't really where she wanted to take the conversation, but he did have a fistful of her hair at this point. Who was she to complain? "And I'm only a century old, so I probably missed whatever it was this Tova did. I'm not one for crowds, really. Spent my Hollow life on earth, I think."

Her voice ended abruptly, as if she had more to say, but just decided not to. Truth be told, she had no real clue what she had done as a Hollow. It all blurred together as a vague sensation of hunger and despair. Bad memories suppressed and locked away, much like her human life, she supposed.

She shrugged her shoulders a bit and then smiled.

"So, I guess I'm just out here for a quick meal and to hit on the dashing, young Shinigami men I find," she continued with a widening grin. "Isn't that reason enough?"

There was no time to answer. Her hand was on his chest and with it came a line of blackness. Devoid of all color, the Cero poured out of her palm like an inky, grungy tree trunk. It sought to consume and obliterate everything in its path, unrestrained and with reckless abandon. She knew it wouldn't matter much to him -- she had already found the answer to that question just a moment ago. Instead, she took it as a challenge. What if she could hurt him? Make him bleed? Would he realize he underestimated her? Would he like it?


That last question didn't matter that much. She was too selfish to really care how much he enjoyed her trying to burn his soulless chest out.

[519]

The glow of his barrier gave away the Cero before he noticed. Shirou created a thin sheen of golden energy over his chest just after he tapped it, and never felt Failure lift her arms and put her hands right against it. When the burn of the black Cero hissed against the barrier, then he noticed. A smile split his lips for a moment and his hand let go of her black hair just in time for the Cero to lurched forward.

The dirt collected against his heels as the black, viscous wave shoved him back through the dirt. The golden glow of his barrier shined like a star to all in the distance, even while tendrils of the Cero spilled out over the edges. Shirou grunted and groaned as he felt the life-consuming blast burn away at his Shihakushō and his skin despite, even as it split apart on his barrier. Only the cracking of his magic proved louder than the unexpected hum that Ceros tended to generate.

Then it was over. Shirou stood a few meters back from Failure and steam rolled of off his body. The very center of his chest had the least damage, only some partially burnt fabric. Crevices were carved through other parts of his robes—over the shoulders, along the sides, down the legs—by the parts of the Cero that rolled over his body. Steam rose more thickly from those places, and even Shirou panted from the exertion of bearing the blast when using only part of his power.

Now it looked like a serious fight, he decided.

“Oh no, I’m terribly sorry,” Shirou started to laugh again. “A century? You’re far too young of a woman to do anything for a man like me.”

Gradually, he straightened his posted. He dusted off some of the ash from his robes and looked back at the Arrancar woman before him. He raised a hand and pointed it straight at her. His eyes darted from side to side, then he nodded his head just a single time.

“Tozanshō,” he declared. Just as he did, an inverted pyramid began to form around them, just large enough so both of their backs were to the glowing, green walls that formed. Above them, the typical ‘bottom’ of the pyramid acted as the glowing ceiling. The sounds of the fires in the distance vanished the moment the three-dimensional barrier slammed shut.

Shirou kept his arm raised.

“No name, out-matched, visiting a world filled with people that want nothing more than to end her life,” he summarized everything she told him, arrogance and amusement both dense in his tone. “To hit on attractive men and eat?

“Hueco Mundo must be awfully dull these days. I hear they had a rather attractive Queen at some point in the past, too—what a pity.”

Another small laugh escaped Shirou, and he continued, “Unfortunately, that means you’re no good to me alive. I can’t very well let anyone know that an Arrancar escaped me alive. Prison would ruin my physique.”

This woman seemed so impossible to him that he simply could not find it in himself to drop the sarcastic quips around her. She represented such an absurdity that he hardly believed she existed at all.

“You’ve just become an Arrancar?” Shirou pivoted the conversation, and his tone finally seemed more serious and genuine. “Well, I could make your return to rationality very short-lived. If that doesn’t suit you, there’s an alternative: I need someone inside Las Noches, someone smart enough to know to listen to me when I show up there myself. It might be years. But if you agree, and do what I need when I arrive, I’ll allow you to live.”

She had no name, the thought echoed in his mind. He considered it for a moment longer, only for a devilish grin to spread his lips yet again.

“Why, I’ll even give you a name,” he offered, as if a deity come down from on-high. “Would you like that?”

*****

671 Words

She wanted to think of some witty response to the way he so casually called her childish and inexperienced. Surely there was something cool and charming she could say to bounce that accusation right back at him. Her bottom lip trembled in anticipation of words, body demanding she said something despite her mind drawing a blank.

Her cheeks felt oddly warm. Her smile tilted downwards a bit, eyebrows furrowing defensively.

"You don't know me," she stumbled out the words, if only to sate the burning urge to argue. It only made her feel stupider. The way he smirked and reacted to her social faux pas made her cheeks feel even warmer.

Then, before the strange emotion could consume her anymore, lines sprouted from the ground around them. Four, to be precise. They reached up in perfect, smooth lines before stopping a few meters above their heads. The jittered momentarily before abruptly changing course and linking up with each other to create the bottom of a 3D triangle -- erm, pyramid as they were called. The lines burned with a warm, healthy green color that soon stretched down to form the walls and ceiling of their private room.

In awe of the strange, foreign magic, the Arrancar let her eyes swing over the walls and ceiling with fascination. She couldn't help but reach out to touch the closest wall. It hummed against her skin, repelling her with gentle nudges. She pressed harder, palm flat against the ethereal wall. It didn't bend, nor did the subtle vibrations stop. Her brows furrowed and she started to move, as if to put her shoulder against it and put a little more oomph in her attempts to test it's mettle.

Thankfully, the Shinigami's voice stopped her before she could get too distracted by his witchcraft. She straightened up and turned to face him properly, neutral expression resting on her face as he so nonchalantly decided her fate. A tickle on her nose stole her attention as he spoke. She gave it a little scratch and just shrugged as he lamented on just how stupidly bored she must have been.

"Again, I don't know any Queen," she cut in. "As far as I'm aware, the closest to a king we got was some low level Hollow whining and pretending to be cool." Her voice lacked the necessary bitterness to really drive home just how hopeless her home was.

She didn't address the fact that he wanted to kill her on the spot. In fact, it seemed like she hadn't heard it at all.

"A name?" She tasted the proposition, licking her lips after deciding it was rather sweet and tasty. A smile crept it's way onto her face and then she rolled her head from side to side, humoring the idea of actually thinking it over. "Sure, okay. Sounds easy enough to me."

Never once did she had a strong loyalty to the idea of Las Noches. She'd never really been exposed to the potential it had, so it was nothing more than a roof and a community of other Arrancar -- all of which were already so much weaker than her. There was nothing to fear there. It was her abode and while she certainly was no ruler, she demanded respect just by sheer power. Power that came from eating anyone who looked at her sideways, but the details didn't matter.

The emotion started to slip back. The warmth on her cheeks and the softness that touched her otherwise cruel and emotionless eyes. She couldn't help but bite down on her bottom lip in attempt to force away the strange, light-chested feeling that started to overcome her.

"What's my name?"

[613]