[12th] Week 296: Fracture III-IV

[Cad]

“Okamii-sama?” a female voice spoke, from behind an opening door.

The man in the room, raven-haired and burly, stared out a window, head leaning into his chin and his hand covering his mouth. He leaned against the bottom frame, more casually than one would expect to see in this situation.

“Sir?” the girl called again.

“Hmm?” he said, coming out of what seemed to be a moment of deep reflection. From behind, the gaze may have appeared as if he were looking for something...or someone. The bearded man turned around, standing at the furthest wall. His eyes came to the girl in the doorway. “Oh, Yui...”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no it’s fine,” he said, gesturing for her to come in. He pushed back, no longer leaning against the window.

“I just wanted to let you know that we’re ready for you.”

The bearded man let his eyes go back to the open window, his voice soft and distant. “That’s fine..I’ll be right there.” His eyes seem to fix on a certain point in the distance and carry with them his full attention.

Yui paused for a moment, seeming to take notice to something, almost as if she were concerned. She bowed slightly and stepped back, pulling the door to and leaving her distracted mentor. Stepping back into the hallway, she turned to another girl, waiting behind her.

“Is he coming?”

“He said he’d be right behind us...but-” her voice trailed off with worry.

“But what? Is something wrong with Okamii-san?” the other girl asked, worried about Yui’s response.

“No...” Yui’s facial expression seemed bewildered, at first, but then a girlish smile moved across her lips, asshe started to walk away. “...He just didn’t seem like himself.”

294

 

[Cad]

Night fell over Soul Society, blanketing the outer reaches of the wilderness in a pristine, lunar glow. The serenity of the stars and drifting, wayward clouds hushed all life and cast dancing shadows across the small village. Within the old woman’s hut, however, the nameless man tossed and turned, his mind ravaged by tortuous thoughts and images.

A flurry of blades, lunging forward at the man, coming inches from his face, while the unknown assailant screams with fury.

He moves back, overcome by the onslaught, trying his best to pull away from death. His limbs shake with fear and dread, weighing down his defenses. It’s only a matter of seconds before a devastating blow is landed, the tip of a blade piercing his chest.

The shock surges another image into his mind - men dressed in black kosodes surrounding him, silent and staring onward, almost right through him. He’s frozen, unable to move, while these men, though with no discernable faces, cast a judgmental gaze.

“Help me, please!” he pleads. His voice echoes in the cold world but no one hears or responds.

Flames came up from the ground below, encircling the man as he stood in place. His eyes darted from place to place, frantically trying to conceive of his situation but there was nothing to be done. He couldn’t move, flames licking at the frame of his trembling body.

A voice echoed in the background, “A man cut at the heel cannot run away! A cleaved head can no longer conspire!”

The fire erupted, bursting from the ground and launched into the black sky. Flames swirled, whipping through the air as they formed into the shape of a grand dragon. The pardic creature of legend roared into life and turned downward. The beast’s mouth opened wide and came down on top of the man, engulfing him in flames before a scream could leave his lungs.

The man shot up from his cot, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. His eyes were wide with fear and he looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

“For heaven’s sake!” the old woman called from behind a frail wall. She scurried out from the darkness and walked into the dim, orange light that came from the dying fire, inside the stove.
She approached the startled man and leaned over to touch his forehead.

“I...I...” he tried to speak but was still unstable, his hand moving to his beating chest.

“You must have had a nightmare,” she said, her tiny eyes looking at his torrid expression. For a moment, she showed a glimpse of grave concern. “...A demon...in your dreams.” Her hand flipped over, once again pressing against his forehead.

“Those men...they were...those where the ones you talked about. The shinigami.”

“You saw them?” she asked.

“Yes...yes, they were all around me...but there was nothing I could do.” The man started to ease himself back to laying down again. “I don’t understand...”

“There, there...we’ll take care of that.” The concern she had briefly shown wasn’t present in her voice. “We’ll take care of that, no problem.”

The elder moved to her wall, where a bundled sagebrush hung on a string. She picked up the dried buds and moved toward the waning fire. She carefully opened the door and placed the head of the bundle into the coals. The dry leaves cackled in the heat and smoke came up from the plant as she pulled it back from the fire, blowing onto the glowing embers. Backing away from the stove, she started waving the burning herbs up and down, side to side.

The smell was slightly pungent and filled the hut quickly. As the woman moved around the room, she could be heard mumbling, almost singing, as she wafted the incense-like bulb. The nameless man let out a deep sigh, unsure of what to think of the old woman’s spectacle but he was exhausted and ready to sleep, regardless.

He lied back down, moving the simple cover down, letting himself cool off. As he tried drifting back to sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder about the things he had seen. Had they any significance...or if they were they just a trick of the mind?

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