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[10th/Closed] Week ---: Like Rats

The weight of his teammate's hand caught the recruit off guard. A reassuring touch, a comforting smile, an open ear; these were not things Daichi was used to.

"When I was still in the Academy, my father disappeared. For months he was gone, and when mother finally asked the division where he was, they said that he was in the middle of a large project and would remain within the ninth division's headquarters until it was complete...." The paused here wasn't intended at all. In fact, the boy tried to continue, but found a wave of tears had washed into the back of his vision and a falter echoed in his voice. Biting his lip he pressed on. "Just when we were finally starting to stop worrying that father was in trouble, the was an explosion...That night, the ninth division returned father's assets..." Unknowingly, the distraught shinigami had taken off the silver ring and began to squeeze it in his palm, the cold bite of the metal into the palm of his hand was almost nothing as to the cold, biting feeling he had in his chest. "The ninth didn't tell us anything. We assumed the worst....that...he.." It was impossible to continue. The tears finally began to flow free, his breathing was becoming rough and shallow. For the first time in since the boy could remember, he was crying.

Tssssssss...

The sudden sizzling sound told the recruit to open his eyes. The tears feel upon his Yakekoge engulfed hand. A sudden, small, unidentifiable voice echoed in his head.

...Dearest, why are you letting it be so dark in........sun won't shine unless you.... The voice was too quiet and far away for the young shinigami to make out fully. Whoever it was sounded worried though. Almost like a mother fussing over her son's scrapped knee.

What are you saying? Daichi's thoughts had no answer, and truth be told, he hadn't really been expecting one. Passing it off as just a far off memory of something his mother must have said, Daichi turned towards Ilsa. His tear stained face still crest fallen, and his breathing still pretty shallow.

"Excuse me Ilsa-san...but...maybe we should continue on..." The sadness on his breath was tangible; however, they wouldn't get any where by sitting and crying.

Correction....I won't get anywhere by sitting and crying...

[389/1409]​
 
Ilsa squeezed Daichi’s shoulder (carefully), then removed her hand."Okay, then.” She paused. "Thank you for trusting me, Daichi-san.” The two shinigami continued on, their path lit by the sun-yellow light of Ilsa’s Ghost Fire and the dimmer, redder light of the flame perched on Daichi’s hand. It only took a few minutes before they reached an intersection. This time the corridor dead-ended, giving them a choice between left and right. The blonde shinigami looked over at her partner. "Your turn to pick.”


82/1390​
 
"How about....." This choice wasn't an easy one. It was not easy, not knowing which way to go. The boy looked at both options. Both gave him the same answer. Nothing. He thought back over the choices they had made and the turns they had come across. In his mind a maze's exit should be on the opposite side of the entrance, so in theory, choosing a path that was the closest the a straight line would be the best option...

He took a deep breath and marked the wall with an x...

[93/1502]​
 
The two shinigami headed off to the left, down yet another corridor identical to those that had come before. An awkward silence blanketed the pair after Daichi’s emotional outburst. Ilsa kept sneaking glances at her dark-haired companion, wondering what to say. After all, it wasn’t every day that a person ended up spilling their guts to a total stranger. I know what that’s like, actually. Memories of an unofficial trip in her gigai floated to the top of Ilsa’s mind, talking about reiatsu and the morality of secrets with a human called Zakki. Wonder what Zakki’s up to these days? I hope he’s managed to rescue his captured friend.

She forced her thoughts back to the present. It wouldn’t do to step into a trap while she was woolgathering over things past. Plus, it was kind of rude to just ignore Daichi. Ilsa tried to think of something innocuous to talk about.

"So, where did you get the idea to mark walls with Yakekoge? I have to admit, I always thought that was kind of a useless kidou, but then I was thinking of it as a hadou. A destructive force.”


191/1581​
 
The moment the blade began to screech its agonizing way down the wall, Mitsuyo leaped about a foot into the air, jammed his hands against his ears to stifle the noise, and spun around to see what the hell Shukumuu was doing. His previous nervousness and embarrassment was forgotten in an instant – specifically, the instant it took the redhead to open his mouth.

"Wha?...Are you...?” He blinked at the wall. Blinked at Shukumei. Then returned his gaze to the wall. "How is that gunna help? Unless you do it every few feet,” he cringed inwardly at the idea, "or just drag your sword along the wall, we probably wouldn't even see it if we came back the other way, would we? It has to be something noticeable, or continuous, or we'll have to keep our eyes glued to the wall the entire ti...”

He realized at some point he had started gesturing like an idiot, realized that he'd started ranting like an idiot, and overall realized he might have just insulted his partner again, depending on how touchy the shinigami was. We should just trace the left-hand side of this stupid place or something...we'd find the exit eventually... Or they should. For all Mitsuyo knew, Sayis had some sort of arcane-magical technique that would make them just wander around in circles until they had opened their hearts to one another.

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth for a moment. If that was the case, Mitsu didn't even know if he'd be able to stay angry at Inuzuri-taichou, it was such a comical, retarded idea.

He sighed. "I wish I was one of those guys that keeps pencils and paper shoved down their clothes all the time in case they want to write something and they're afraid the world's gunna end before they get a chance...”

He toggled his gaze away from the clean cut on the wall, back to Shukumei. "...Or we could just follow the left side of the wall wherever it goes. Ideally, that'd let us trace the outside of the maze until we find the exit.” He paused, caught up in his thoughts. "....Although then we should make a big mark before we make any turns, so we don't pop out of the entrance thinking it's the exit. That'd be...pretty embarrassing.”





[394/2231]
​
 
Shukumei tilted his head slightly to the left and blinked once while Mitsuyo finished talking.

"Oh, come on, you could see a mark like that if you were walking with your eyes open, especially with that Ghost Fire," Shukumei spoke as calmly as ever, even after Mitsuyo just finished his rant, "we need a mark before we turn, right? So I made a mark. It's really that simple. We haven't taken any turns yet so just keep an eye on the right hand side if we think we may be coming back the wrong way."

Shukumei passed off another one of those hearty smiles as he finished his sentence and he relaxed a bit more.

I kind of expected that reaction. At least I got him talking. Though come to think of it, his constant serious is quite...humorous. To a degree anyway.

"I could have used Demon Fist instead but I only want to make a mark, not get buried alive," Shukumei mumbled, stroking his chin while thinking of what to do next.

His ears perked up when Mitsuyo mentioned following the left hand side until they eventually found an exit.

That's a stupid idea. What if we get to a junction which doesn't have a left turn? Oh, then we go straight ahead. Right. It'll get us somewhere, besides, I don't think Mitsuyo is the kind of person to give me a choice. I'm not that much against the idea anyway, it's just as good as wandering around in random directions.

"Okay then, we can stick to the left wall. Shall we get going?" Shukumei asked ever politely with his well-spoken voice.

[269/1525]​
 
How am I supposed to suspect we're coming back the wrong way if everything looks the same? Mitsuyo carefully didn't say. The redhead did his very best to quash the thick lump of anger coiling in his chest, dangerous, ready to strike at the slightest provocation; the part of him that knew Chuuchuu-kun (most likely) wasn't trying to sound condescending or dismissive was valiantly making its case – but Mitsuyo always had possessed selective hearing. So of course it riled him anyway.

In the short shinigami's book, not looking like an idiot and not being considered stupid were infinitely more important than being liked by his peers, and the air of "I'm doing my best to tolerate you, you know?” Shukumei had developed was an agitating itch, juuust out of reach.

With effort, Mitsuyo gave the appearance of studying the ground darkened by his shadow, trying to look thoughtful instead of insulted and indignant and I-don't-need-the-approval-of-some-loser-that-pretends-to-be-happy-even-when-he's-obviously-not.

Ah, said a part of him, taunting that dark coil of anger, prodding it with a stick to see what would happen, you can't refuse to ever do anything and still expect people to trust that you're not some incompetent kid.

"Yeah,” Mitsuyo muttered after a moment, not even noticing the "Shall we...?” this time. He gave the cut Shukumin had made in the wall a long look, as though he could will its location into his memory, before he started to walk again. His Ghost Fire drifted at his side, a silent, eerie familiar that he really wished did give off heat – it was too chilly down here. "I wouldn't have used Demon Fist either,” he said after a moment, "although if we got buried in here, maybe Sayis...uh...Inuzuri-taichou would just give the other two a default victory, pull us out, and let us go home.”





[309/2540]
​
 
"Don't make it sound so tempting," Shukumei replied, regarding Mitsuyos comment about Demon Fist. Come to think of it, Shukumei was getting a bit lazy with learning kidou recently. This reminded him that he needed to keep up his arcane studies.

After that short-lasted conversation, Shukumei remained silent whilst walking behind Mitsuyo.

Man, that guy is made of pure negative emotions. Does he even know happiness? He doesn't hide it very well. All I have to do is look at his face and realise his skin is practically the same colour of his hair.

Shukumei let out a huge grin to himself while Mitsuyo led the way, his back turned to the young Shinigami. He tried his best not to let out a short chuckle while he became almost lots in his own thoughts and only barely succeeded.

This is about as fun as it gets, I guess. Laughing to my own thoughts...wow, I really do have to stoop low with this guy don't I? Not like Ilsa and that other new guy. He just looked a bit scared...kind of how I imagined myself to first look like when I first met Ilsa, but she has a heart of gold. He's in good hands.

Shukumei shook his head rapidly a few times while Mitsuyo was still turned, snapping himself out of his own thoughts.

I really should keep my thoughts concentrated on myself and Mitsuyo here. Captain Sayis did say there were a few little 'surprises' down here, didn't he? So I'd best keep my eyes peeled. Where does that phrase even come from? Can you even peel your eyes? I guess you can in quite a sick context but...hey, back to topic, Shukumei!

Shukumei blinked once hard before noticing how the path split in two, one part going straight ahead and the other going left. Shukumei didn't even need to ask to see what way Mitsuyo was intending on going, but he thought he would give it a try anyway.

"Sticking with the left, right?" Shukumei assumed, not intending on creating an ironic pun.

[345/1870]​
 
"Hn?” Mitsuyo said, looking back over his shoulder at his partner. "Yeah.” Again, he wondered just how often the other ginger needed some arbitrary form of reassurance.

The redhead wondered if maybe this silence seemed awkward to Shukumei. For Mitsuyo, keeping quiet himself while listening to everyone around him was habit (and was probably why he always ended up disliking people – if he listened to them long enough, they were practically guaranteed to say something he thought was stupid, eventually), but he knew a lot of people thought that a lack of conversation meant something was wrong. Without voices to break the air, even their soft footsteps seeming to reverberate throughout the empty tunnel and ring in his ears.

Unfortunately, Chuuchuu also seemed the type that preferred to sit back and listen...although probably with less negative results.

Sayis really had outdone himself with this match, Mitsuyo thought wryly; two nervous, midget shinigami that really fucking suck at making conversation. Maybe the two Goliaths were fairing better. He didn't see how they could be doing any worse, unless they had started some epic, angry duel to the death as soon as they were out of sight.

Even then, at least they would be settling their issues instead of covering them up with...irritated silence and an omnipresent smile.

The redhead spurred himself to speak – to say something, maybe just to get Shookumi talking. "Hey,” he called back over his shoulder, "why did you become a shinigami?”

He stared rigidly ahead at the darkness they were forever chasing, and asked himself where the hell that had come from. What a retarded question...and he had pretty much doomed himself to answering the question himself at some point, unless Shukumei didn't think to ask (or unless he managed to subtly change the topic).

"Whatever it was," he added thoughtfully, maybe to seem less like he was demanding a response from Wibbles, "it's definitely more inspiring than mine, so..."




[304/2844]
​
 
Shukumei paused for a moment while he pondered on Mitsuyos question. Owen had asked him this before and he didn't give a very clear answer.

How could think that my reason would be more inspiring than his own when he doesn't even know why I became a Shinigami? Come to think of it, I'm not even sure what possessed me to join the academy either...

"Why do you think I became a Shinigami?" Shukumei asked Mitsuyo, taking the answering-a-question-with-another-question approach, yet refused to give him time for an answer.

"I became a Shinigami to search for something to protect. Protecting others gives me a sense of some form of purpose and responsibility. In short, I'm just the scaredy cat who wants to be a hero. Just a boy who wants to be a man. You get the idea, I'm sure."

Shukumei still kept his smile, no matter how short it was. He was pretty sure that was the reason he became a Shinigami and it was a damn sight better than the answer he gave Owen.

He thought back to the moment when Owen asked him a similar question and remembered how scared and uncomfortable he was for a time in the Tenth. He had made such progress that he didn't believe it himself, yet even he did not know the extent of his own skills.

"What about yourself?" Shukumei asked in reply instinctively, only realising after he asked it what Mitsuyos social nature was actually like around him.

"Well, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. But I'm pretty sure you already know that," Shukumei added, just to make a point. He didn't want to upset Mitsuyo or anything since he hardly knew anything about the boy. For all Shukumei knew, Mitsuyo could have just asked the question to make conversation and not actually want to tell Shukumei his own answer.

[315/2185]​
 
The question about Kidou brought a smile to the recruit's face. "Well...you see, just because something is passed off as being a spell of destruction or a spell of binding doesn't mean that's all they can be used for. Marking the walls with Yakekoge was actually something I've done before...kinda.." A small laugh escaped him. "Back in my academy days my friend and I went out to the fields for lunch. Well one day we noticed a large rock at the edge of the field, so we went to go examine it just for fun. Well, when we got there we noticed a lot of students had carved their names into it. Since neither of us had a knife or a sharp stone we used this hadou to brun our names into it." The shinigami gestured with his fingers as though he were signing his name in mid air.

"I love things like that though," he continued, "using kidou for multiple things...like using a binding spell to hold together a crumbling pillar or a flame spell to heat a pot of water if you don't have access to a stove...simple applications like that attract me...." The boy continued on about his thoughts on how kidou can be used in any situation when the pair was greeted by the next intersection.

Left or Right?



[233/1735]​
 
The other ginger had nearly dug his own grave when he responded to Mitsuyo's question with a question of his own (one of the small shinigami's biggest fucking peeves)...but he answered so quickly afterwards that Mitsu dismissed it as a rhetorical question and let it slide. He still had "If I knew, I wouldn't have bothered asking,” dancing on his tongue when Shukumei did as expected. Served the question right back at Mitsuyo.

Well hell, he allowed, this is how conversations work, isn't it?

"A hero,” Mitsuyo repeated to himself, soft enough that Shukumei wouldn't be able to hear, turning the idea over in his head, "huh?”

The idea was so damn cheesy and lame...yet seemed to fit into the whole concept of shinigami, and the redhead couldn't find it in himself to label it stupid and file it away. As far as he was concerned, wanting to become a shinigami for whatever reason was stupid...but at least Shukumei had one.

So did Mitsu's father and mother.

And Sayis Inuzuri-taichou, surely.

And probably every other 'god of death' that wasn't a lazy, aimless redhead named Mitsuyo. He huffed out a sigh, trailing his left hand along the corresponding wall, and said, "Well, I didn't really have a reason. I felt like I had to, is all. Now I'm regretting it, of course. I'm...definitely not shinigami material. I'm amazed I even made it through the Aca...dum...uh...”

Fuck. What the hell was he saying? He withdrew his hand, using it to rub the back of his neck instead. "...I guess...I'm sorta just waiting for everyone to realize I'm not supposed to be here and boot me out, you know.”

A part of his brain had gone numb, unable to comprehend that he had just said that. Out loud. To another shinigami.

To another shinigami in your division, a small voice bemoaned. What were you thinking?

He smiled nervously, even if the only one that would be able to see it was his Ghost Fire, which wasn't likely to be impressed with the expression anyway. Suddenly, he wished he'd just yelled at the smiley-faced shinigami when he had the chance. That would've been better than admitting he was so stupid he'd become a shinigami on a fucking whim.

Because of a voice, he amended neatly, but the details were irrelevant. He should've just said he was inspired by his parents, or avoided the question like he had during that first meeting with Sayis.

"Oh...we're gunna keep going straight,” he called behind him, as a branch-off to the right loomed invitingly in his peripheral vision. He didn't so much as slow down (if anything, he was marching faster now, in a hurry to leave behind the topic he'd brought up). "Although if the exit's not along the outer wall, we're going to have to come up with a new method when we run into the entrance again.”

He willed Shukumei to have an aneurysm of some sort, or trip and bump his head and lose all his memories of the past few minutes. "Right, anyway then, what about the division? Do you suck at melee fighting like I do, or do you just think making big explosions is way cooler than chopping someone's face off?”




[548/3392]
.
Oh god wtf is this word count I don't even
 
Ilsa directed one of her Ghost Lights to each side of the intersection, carefully examining the stone for suspicious lines or cracks that might indicate a trap. Satisfied, she brought them back to join the third ball of cool flame on the ceiling behind herself and Daichi. "Well, I don’t see a difference. Left worked last time, might as well do it again.” Her partner nodded and marked the wall with his fiery hand, and they continued their journey through the maze.

"Multipurpose kidou are some of my favorites, too. That’s why I picked the spells I did for my Signature.” Ilsa held out her left hand, displaying the runed futatsudomoe tattooed there. "Shouaku and Ghost Fire. Maybe not the best kidou in combat, but I know they’ll be useful a hundred years from now, after I’ve learned more powerful combat kidou than I can cast now.” White teeth glinted in the light as she grinned. "Well, hopefully. And hey, I can always use Shouaku to throw rocks!”

The muscular shinigami paused, rubbing her neck where she was hunched over against the ceiling. "Um, Daichi-san? Mind if we stop for a quick break so I can sit down? My neck and shoulders are absolutely killing me, and that’s the only way I’ll be able to stretch them out properly in here.” She grimaced. "I’m going to be feeling this for days. I just wish I knew why Sayis-taichou made the ceiling so low. My height is written down in my personnel file. He’s not the type to forget that kind of detail.”


262/1843​
 
Shukumei went quiet as Mitsuyo explained a little bit about his opinions on becoming a shinigami and what could be generalised as being his reasons yet it seemed like nothing more than an instinct.

He felt like he didn't have a choice? Of course he had a choice; everybody has a choice. There's something this guy isn't telling me.

Shukumei frowned for a second or two as he collected his thoughts about Mitsuyo, noticing the sudden change in his body language, such as the retracting of his hand away from the wall.

At least he's talking about something and by how he seems to constantly switch between informative and uncomfortable I would say he's telling the truth. Though I have been wrong before. Either way, I shouldn't hassle him. If he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, that's his choice.

Shukumei brought up his optimistic smile once again, feeling a sense of achievement somewhat, regarding getting to know Mitsuyo better, no matter how small the step was.

Picking up pace as Mitsuyo chose the direction for them and failing to even acknowledge him, Shukumei put his previous thoughts about Mitsuyo behind him as a new topic arisen within their beautiful conversation.

Ooh, a combat discussion. Now we're making progress.

"Actually, I'm not too bad at sword fighting. That's what I've mainly been training alongside my kidou. I guess I don't tend to use my kidou for destruction since I've shown a deeper interest in the bakudou side of things but I'll get the grasp of better hadou spells as I go on."

Shukumei favoured this discussion. It was interesting...perhaps too interesting for Shukumei to shut up but if he wanted to be silent then why bring up the topic.?

"What is it for you then? Are you the kidou explosions expert?" Shukumei asked with intrigue.

Well if he isn't adept at using his sword like he just mentioned, that would leave him either dependent on kidou for offense or turning to hand-to-hand combat. That must mean he's pretty good at kidou...this is the kidou division after all.

[348/2533]​
 
The boy nodded to his partner's request. Another rest wouldn't be so uncalled for.

"Maybe Inuzuri-taichou knew that you would have to stop to rest our shoulders every now and then and used is hoping that is slows us down so we don't get too far ahead of the other two." The shinigami laughed. It could be a possibility; however unlikely.

With a small puff of air, the recruit snuffed out Yakekoge. He could always recast it when they got moving again and this way he could touch the wall for support when stand without worrying about leaving a mark that may confuse the group if they happened back this way.

"So Ilsa-san, tell me about yourself....what made you want to be a shinigami?"

[124/1859]​
 


"I,” Mitsuyo replied after a moment of consideration, "am the 'running-away expert'.” Thank every god that doesn't exist for getting him to let that topic drop. "I'd rather not get hit at all, really, so being quick on my feet comes in handy. But...to an extent, I guess I'm the 'kidou explosions' type, too. I don't have much stamina...so I kinda have to end fights as soon as possible.” He rolled his shoulders slightly and folded his arms under his chest. "Find and opening, slip in under their guard, and-” he glanced back at Shukumei over his shoulder, held up one hand, and pulled an imaginary trigger, "bang. Well, ideally.”

He crossed his arms again and kept walking, wishing there was something (anything) to offer at least a slight distraction. He felt more comfortable talking when his attention was divided. Maybe if he blasted a chunk out of the wall he could take a piece of the rubble and kick it along in front of him...

"That's why my hitotsu is Byakurai,” he commented after a pause. "Always ready to get a shot off the moment I see an opportunity...or something like that."

The redhead let out a small huff. "Although I haven't actually been in any serious situations yet, so I dunno. I kind of expect all my ideas to fall through when it really comes down to it. Something like 'see an opening, slip under their guard...and get smacked through a wall'. Shinigami wasn't the best idea, seeing as the last thing I wanna do is get myself killed.”

He needed to take some confidence-building classes or something.

There's no point if it's false confidence – then I'll just look like an idiot and think I'm going to win before getting eaten.

There was a moment of disorientation when Mitsu's Ghost Fire washed over a solid wall of smoothed stone in front of them – he'd been growing accustomed to the way the light trailed away into darkness.

Idly, he stepped forward and pressed the palm of his hand against the wall.

"Ugh, fuck.” He articulated with a sigh. The small redhead turned back to Shukumei, trying not to be embarrassed (it was a fucking maze, of course they were going to run into dead ends, it wasn't like it was all because of his decision or anything...) and failing. "Er, sor...so, I managed to find a dead end.” Mitsuyo directed a frown towards the expressionless expanse of rock. "Impressive, right?”





[421/3813]
​
 
Shukumei continued to listen to Mitsuyos words as he walked along behind the redheaded boy.

Wow, a huge burst of conversatiom. Where did this come from? Who cares, at least now we seem to be getting somewhere!

As Mitsuyo continued to explain his fighting methods, Shukumei noticed something ahead through the Ghost Fire. Perhaps Mitsuyo hadn't noticed yet because he was so deep in conversation? Shukumei thought not to say anything since Mitsuyo was just coming out of his shell, but he soon realised that a dead end lay ahead.

Shukumei chuckled quietly at Mitsuyos comment about reaching the dead end before putting his ideas forwards.

"There was only one turning back there so it looks like we will have to take that one," he informed, as if Mitsuyo didn't already know that.

Turning to start walking back himself, Shukumei thought about the conversation Mitsuyo and himself were just engaged in and contemplated reviving the subject.

"My Hitotsu is Demon Fist. I imagine when I get into serious fights I would end up in the fray so I'm honing my zanjutsu skills. I guess it is kind of a safeguard. Eventually, we are going to end up being in big fights with Hollow or something. It is inevitable so the best we can do is prepare for it," Shukumei explained as they continued back through the corridor.

Though come to think of it, I have been neglecting my kidou studies a bit too much. I will need to get back to reading up and practising my kidou more.

"I like the sound of your fighting strategy," Shukumei said out of nowhere,"using your speed to stay safe while looking for an opening on your opponent. It's very interesting, that we both have different styles considering we're in the same division. You'd think we would all get trained in the same sort of fighting styles but that's left to ourselves. Though I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, we do get to see a lot of diversity."

Shukumei hoped he did not chat so much as to make Mitsuyo bored; once he got into one of these conversations he found it hard to get himself out.

[365/2898]​
 
Ilsa sank down to her knees with a sigh of relief. She tilted her head up, then back and forth. "Ohhhh. That feels wonderful." For a few moments, she simply let herself enjoy the marvelous feeling of not having to walk hunched over. "Hmm. You have a point, Daichi-san. I know Shukumei-san from the other team, and it hasn't been that long since he joined the division. Never met the redheaded one, but if he is also fairly inexperienced, making the ceiling too short is an effective handicap for our team." She reached up to knead her left shoulder, gasping slightly as she hit a knot of tension. "A painful handicap."


Switching shoulders, Ilsa looked up at her teammate. "Why did I decide to become a shinigami? Okay, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." She smiled. "I'll try to make it short, since we should move on before too long.

"I come from Rukongai. Luckily for me, I found a family; that's where 'Maruyama' comes from, since I don't remember much about my time on Earth." She switched shoulders again. "I was happy in Rukongai. I love Mom and Dad, I had friends, I was good at my job in the bakery." Ilsa sighed. "Then I started getting hungry. Everyone knows what that means. I didn't want to leave, so I started eating some of what I baked. Dad eventually caught me at it, and I had to tell him." She rolled her eyes. "My parents thought that me being a shinigami would be the best thing ever. Like I said, though, I didn't want to go." The young woman looked down at the stone floor. "I... I don't want to kill."

Silence hung in the air for a few long moments. "A shinigami found me, and eventually he told me that a zanpakutou doesn't kill Hollows. It purifies them and lets their souls move on. I’ve always protected people; it’s like an instinct. Shinigami are protectors on a much larger scale. Once I learned that I didn’t necessarily have to kill my opponents, I went to the Academy." She grinned, gray eyes sparkling in the yellow light of her Ghost Fire. “Also, shinigami get to read books. Lots of books.”



374/2217​
 
Suppressing any sarcastic comments, such as "Naw, I thought we'd head back to the entrance, climb out, and tell Inuzuri-taichou he can shove his maze right up his ass,” (which he didn't need to think too much on, since it started to sound appealing after a moment), Mitsu settled on a sharp smile and quick nod to let Shukumei know he was listening, and took up step beside his partner. His Ghost Fire followed along, between and slightly above the two, silent and unobtrusive as ever.

The smiley-smiley-happy-cheer shinigami seemed to have grabbed hold of a conversation topic he liked and was now holding onto it with all his strength; in an abstract way (beneath the layer of "boringboringboringboring”), Mitsuyo was happy with that. He was always a better listener than conversationalist...not exactly because he preferred to listen to everyone and their mother chatter about stupid irrelevant topics and whine over every tiny thing, but because he did prefer to keep attention off himself.

There were some people that seemed to thrive in the spotlight. Mineto Mitsuyo wasn't one of them.

Even if you'd like to be...

No, no, shut up. The last thing I wanna do is make an idiot of myself while everyone's watching. Which was what was practically destined to happen when attention was turned to him. He wasn't afraid of people or anything...they were just...it was kind of...well, he didn't like being judged (and no, he didn't fail to see the painful irony there).

That's why he stayed in the background. Besides, he was really, really lazy.

Let those other people get all encouraged and inspired by the fact that no matter how strong they are, there's always someone better. As far as I'm concerned, it's completely depressing.

"...we do get to see a lot of diversity."

Ah fuck, he'd gotten carried away and zoned out. What had Shukumei been saying? He had been babbling about Hollows and fighting stuff, right?

"Yeah,” he agreed vaguely while he got his thoughts back in order. "Well, it's better if shinigami aren't all like cardboard copies, isn't it? Otherwise we'd be way too predictable – hollows'd just chew through us.” Not that a hollow wouldn't chew through him anyway, but that wasn't what he was talking about. "Anyway, it's kinda cool, isn't it? Every soul is different, so every person is different, their personalities, and their abilities, and how they use them...”

He blinked, and glared at his hands, caught in the act – paused mid-gesture. "...Although you wouldn't think it to watch most of them...” he muttered, wondering at what a nutjob he was. How could someone be an optimist and a pessimist at the same time? An idealist and a realist.

It was no wonder he didn't know what the hell to do with himself.




[430/4243]
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The young shinigami sunk to the stone floor. He sat with his back against the wall and his eyes locked onto the ghost flames. Ilsa's voice echoed softly off the walls as she answered his question. While the recruit listened he thought.

Why did I become a shinigami..Because father wanted me to? Because mother wanted me to? Because it was in his blood? No, those are excuses. I became a shinigami because I wanted to prove my worth...but to who?

Suddenly the boy realized that his partner had stopped talking and that it was his turn to tell a story. "Well..like I said, my father was in the ninth division, and my mother is in the fourth. It was really expected of me to become a shinigami, but I think the real reason I joined is to prove that my worth. I remember when I was in the academy after my father went missing people would say that they were impressed that I stayed in school even though it was hard on me, to which I though; why wouldn't I stay?" There was a brief pause. The thought of his father brought back that surge, but with a great effort Daichi managed to force it back, "I became a shinigami to prove myself...to me. To prove that I can be a great shinigami, even if I weren't part of the Kagoshima blood line." He nodded as if confirming the thought with himself.

He looked to Ilsa. God I hope she doesn't think I'm mad...

[254/2113]​
 
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