[11th] Volume 101: Where the Apple Falls

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Galero

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Chapter 1: Transformation (Word Count: 1,111)

A much different mood permeated the dimly illuminated room as the two inhabitants now sat, conversing calmly, discussing their future actions. Shinji sat in a high-backed, dark wooden char, one leg folded over the other and a cool, damp cloth pressed tightly against the wounds he had sustained at his master.

The contemplative gaze of the latter man went from being cast upon Shinji to up at the ceiling. The tale his son related to him certainly made sense; those ****ed Gotei *******s had been causing trouble for him and his family even before exiling them. To have sent two powerful shinigami after one of their branch movements, though, surprised him. Perhaps the Gotei has begun jumping at shadows, he chuckled to himself.

"Did the blind one say anything?" he asked after a moment of silence had passed. "Anything that would give away their movements or plans against us?"

"Not really," Shinji replied as he removed the cloth from his temple, touching it gingerly with his fingertips to test its severity. "It seemed as though the two of them had no idea who they were dealing with. Whether the Gotei itself really didn't know we were behind the attacks on that village or whether they simply didn't tell them, I don't know."

"That's good to hear." The elder man sat back in his chair and folded his hands contentedly across his stomach, the seat's wooden frame creaking beneath his shifted weight.

"Though I did find out that, apparently, the blind one knows my sister."

"They sent a friend of that peace-loving little traitor? Are you sure they had no idea who we were?"

"I'm positive," Shinji shrugged his shoulders. "When my men first encountered him, they said that everything he said centered around protecting the village, and even when I met him, he didn't pry for any deeper information than he already had, which I assure you wasn't much."

"That's a relief," he began to relax again before stiffening suddenly in the middle of leaning back, eyeing Shinji suspiciously. "Wait a second. If he had no idea we were overseeing this operation, how the hell did you find out he's friends with the little *****? Did you go have tea with him or some stupid **** like that?"

"No, I..."

The young man's voice trailed off and his eyes snapped widely open as he realized his own faux pas. He could have kicked himself for being so stupid. Why had he...?

"What did you do, you little ****?" the boss asked, his arms folded across his chest now, certain that his subordinate had found some way to screw up again.

"I, I told him my name," he croaked out, diverting his eyes to avoid the look of anger and frustration that was slowly forming on his father's face.

"You ****ing moron!" The gray-haired man grabbed an expensive-looking, intricately designed ceramic vase sitting on a pillar behind him and hurled it across his desk. The ornament slammed into the side of Shinji's head with such force that he fell from his seat and hit the other side of his head upon the hardwood floor. The vase followed his fall and shattered upon impact. Splinters of sharp ceramic scattered in all directions, biting at any exposed flesh of his they could find. Stars swam before him, threatening to pull a dark curtain over his vision, dyed crimson as blood from the wound ran down into his eyes. He blinked a few times reflexively, either to clear out the blood from his eyes, or stave off unconsciousness, or both.

On the other side of the desk, his father continued screaming, though the words were drowned out by the unbearable ringing in his ears. He continued blinking, but with each successive blink, his eyelids moved slower and slower, until finally...

...all the air in Shinji's lungs was forced out at once. The darkness receded as he gasped for breath, as though he had been being tortured, held underwater and just in that moment before he drowned, allowed to return to the surface for a gulp of air and an angry question or two.

The ringing slowly faded from his ears as well, giving way to his father's irate ranting as he kicked away at his stomach.

"...hear me, you little *******? Wake up! I know you're not dead, so wake the hell up! No son of mine is going to lay there all pathetic and weak after a soft hit like that, so get your *** up now!"

Gradually, as all his senses returned to him, Shinji moved his arms to block his father's kicks. He wasn't quite fast enough, though, as one kick resulted in an audible crack coming from his ribs. He tried to cry out, but there wasn't enough oxygen to breathe, let alone speak.

The pain of the broken rib set the young man off, as he pushed himself off the ground and stood to face his father, gasping desperately for the sweet, cool air he needed to live.

"All right, all right!" he cried out, more out of animal instinct than conscious effort. "I'm up!"

A brief pause as the older man smiled at his son that seemed more as though he was baring his teeth at him.

"Good."

An explosion of pain ripped through his face again as his father's fist pounded against the side of his jaw. Shinji felt one of his molars come loose and ricochet around the inside of his mouth as he stumbled backwards and spit out a tangy mixture of saliva and blood. Coated in that mixture was his molar, which he threw down to the floor, not caring about it and instead glaring at the monster who stood across from him, nostrils flaring and veins popping out in multiple places on his forehead.

They stood at an impasse for a few seconds, sizing each other up, with warm, sticky blood trickling down the side of Shinji's face. Every so often when his mouth filled with blood, he spit it out into a puddle on the floor that grew larger each time.

The monster's face became human again as the rage morphed into disappointment and he sighed heartily, a deep breath that heaved his shoulders. "All right. I'll figure out some way to fix this mess before the Gotei has them searching out here for us. Go clean yourself up before dinner."

"Yes, father," Shinji replied. He allowed himself to relax his stance as he turned to open the heavy wooden door and return to the utopia waiting on the other side, his head held high. For him, everything was as it should be.
 

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