What Lurks
[ 8256 Words ]
Sabishii Arano ~ Seraph
Junichi Shukumei ~ Valero
Moriyama Tokiwa ~ OssumBunz
Cerberus Fukushima was a general site of bustling and busywork. The building stretched into the sky, green canopies of the rooftop gardens peeking over the glass and concrete walls. The building was almost like a horseshoe, the main building towering into a single penthouse while a loose branch swung outwards below into the shape.[ 8256 Words ]
Sabishii Arano ~ Seraph
Junichi Shukumei ~ Valero
Moriyama Tokiwa ~ OssumBunz
Inside, the central lobby was almost a cavern. Public viewing centers divided the front entrance from the true heart of the Contracting Center. Past the screeners, it opened into a sprawling layout of catwalks and steel mesh staircases. Offices dotted the walls, paths leading down to other sections of the building.
Humans sprung and leapt with agility that no mortal ought possess!
Bounding over catwalks and balancing along thin wires to ease their travel, the constant hectic flow of Fukushima was not unlike a circus in full swing. Above, one man stood watch ever-so-briefly, before retiring back into his office.
With a dry click of his tongue, Arano slid back into his chair. The documents in his office were splayed about, reports of various contracts finished or complicated. Later, he'd slog through the real trial that was Secure Operations. Yet there was something more interesting on the schedule. Something that would mercifully break the monotony.
Zakki had, in his newfound trust of Arano, elected to send a pair of supposed agents his way. After the Tournament, Elena Ashida's improvement had brought curious eyes to Fukushima's training regimen... and the plethora of experience the Director of said branch possessed.
Two figures, one male and the other female, slid through the sliding glass doors of Cerberus Fukushima. Spying a burly-looking man to their right, the bouncer stood astride a heavy steel door that led beyond the public viewing area. He cast them a dispassionate glower.
Shukumei ran his fingers through his copper hair as he entered the building, taking the time to pass his eyes in every direction after lowering his arm. The place was incredibly busy, busier than he remembered the Tokyo branch being, though he liked to believe that was partially because of the help him and his masked ones provided, what little of them they were.
Blue-grey eyes spied the man made of muscles and despite the grim looks he received, the teenager still managed to smile. If there was anything he liked to pride himself on, it was the fact that he maintained as courteous as he could despite all of the brutal experiences locked away in his mind. Signalling Toki to stay close using his hand behind his back, he approached the taller man, glancing back to his companion with just a flash of uncertainty before returning his gaze to the man-hulk.
“We are Agents Shukumei and Moriyama, reporting to the Fukushima branch. I believe we have a meeting scheduled with Director Arano.”
With a grunt the man stepped aside and the vizard expressed his thanks with a formal nod. As they scaled the mesh-shrouded stairs, Shukumei turned back to the shorter flame-haired teenager.
“There’s a definitely a difference in atmosphere here, don’t you think?”
Blue eyes darted every which way, spending not more than a moment on one thing before moving to another as Toki tried to take in her surroundings all at once. The Fukushima branch looked much different on the inside compared to the Tokyo branch. For one the place was more industrial inside by far, giving the building a cold and impersonal feeling. She could get used to that, it wasn’t unlike their dear warehouses. Another thing that stood out to the girl was the way the lobby itself was put together, catwalks and steel cables with humans dancing about on them, nothing about this place was normal.
Thankfully, vizard with horns was hardly someone who ought be determining what was normal and what was not. She had seen her share of strange back in the Ninth Division and this didn’t even come close to the slug man she had seen while in the gotei.
Tokiwa’s hand slid along the cool metal railing as she ascended the mesh staircase closely behind the copper-haired teen in front of her, their foot steps echoing slightly on the metal surface, “It’s one of the more interesting places I’ve been to in a long time, I think I could get used to it.” She replied with a smile at her companion just as they reached the top of the stairs and started down the small hall.
These places always seemed to have an odor to them, nothing bad, just something along the lines of the disinfectant used in a hospital like setting. At least it’s clean, She thought to herself as the two vizards approached the Director's office door.
At first she reached for the door handle, content with just barging into the room, but then she stopped herself and opted instead for knocking on the office door.
The answer was blunt, and curt. "Enter."
What lay inside was a rather frugal office. An L-shaped desk sat with its widest face towards the door, the centerpiece of the room. Decorating the walls were a number of pictures - each seemingly unrelated to one another - and bits of string led from one to the next. A small canopy of windows faced the rear of the office, and illuminated the silhouette of the person the Vizards were supposedly there to meet.
Arano was faced partially away from them, eyes glued to a computer screen. At a glance, the young man seemed to have no place in an office designed for those several decades his senior.
A mop of black hair hung over his head, partially obscuring his face. Then, with a small sigh, he shoved away from the desk and turned to face the pair. His eyes were mismatched: the right eye was an electric blue, that seemed to glare even with the neutral gaze he held. The left eye was a deep crimson, and lacked a pupil entirely. One could almost swear a sheen of power flickered and waned within it.
The young Director leant back in his chair, and regarded the pair for a moment. Then, "Shukumei Junichi. I didn't imagine Zakki would be sending me a Vizard for review."
His eyes flicked to Tokiwa briefly, then back to the male Vizard. An unspoken assumption hung in the air.
Shukumei smiled a smile as warm as he could manage. The eyes confirmed everything for him, one blue and one red with no pupil, Cerberus agents spoke of Arano all the time and not many things said were particularly courteous. Fortunately for the copper-haired vizard, he only extracted the useful information from such individuals - he would much rather have found out what this man was like for himself, rather than from hearsay.
“Director Arano,” he replied, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement but not taking his eyes from the human. “Perhaps the Chairman thought that it was about time we met. After all, we’ve both been here a while and both of us have developed reputations.”
Tilting his eyes all around the room for just a few moments, absorbing the surroundings of the office, Shukumei almost couldn’t believe that it was the same organisation. The entire building was running ragged and working at a speed that would have kept the average human as physically fit as they could be. Of course, the Tokyo branch was busy and running around was common for those with important tasks, but the Fukushima branch seemed a lot more... chaotic. After seeing results on Zakki’s desk once, he decided he could not argue with their results.
Bringing his eyes back to the man - those eyes were piercing, but the young vizard knew all about strange eyes just by being who he was - he gestured one hand to his shorter companion.
“This is Moriyama Tokiwa,” he said. “She has also been sent as part of this review.”
He passed a sidelong glance to Toki and anticipated her reaction. She could be reckless at times, sometimes heroic and sometimes not so grandiose.
The office seemed too grand for someone who appeared to be so young, what was worse was the fact that this guy really was as young as he looked to be. That’s just how humans worked. No matter the situation, Toki was always left feeling like those in the land of the living rushed through their lives at an incredible rate. She would have gone nuts if she were forced to have her whole life planned in only thirty years at the most.
Then again, what was age to a shinigami, or for that matter a vizard? She had never known one of them to walk around inquiring about age, numerical at least. Physical age was always noted for sure, and by all physical respects Shukumei was just a bit older in appearance than herself and so he was treated as such. The redhead knew nothing of his actual age and he knew nothing of her’s, it just didn’t matter to them. It wasn’t like they were going to age any time soon anyway.
Her companion’s glance caught her attention, it was like he was expecting her to say something. Toki exhaled a long sigh through her nostrils before dipping into a curtsey, “Two...he sent you two vizards for this review thing, Director,” The form of bowing had become a favorite of hers recently, she was choosing to replace the traditional bow with it whenever possible. “But to me, it just sounds like we were sent here to be judged.”
The horned vizard narrowed her blue eyes on the man behind the desk, the idea of this man sending out a report on her usefulness didn’t exactly sit well with her, but what could she do about it? She felt nervous about what they were possibly about to go through. Unconsciously, Toki played with the hem of her skirt to her side, rubbing it between her thumb and index finger.
"A pleasure." The dull tone he answered with suggested anything but. "Judged..? Perhaps. Tested, probably. Reviewed? Unlikely."
Arano stood, and was around his desk in a movement that seemed unnatural. It was too fluid, the seeming void where the young man's reiryoku should've been wrong with the natural ease he carried himself with.
He was at his office door in a moment, and motioned for the pair to follow him. "No sense wasting time, then. I trust you had enough of a look at how things are done on your way up?"
“Of course,” Shukumei responded, a look of caution appearing on his face and staying there. He thought it was a natural feeling around the Director, he just made people uneasy. If it wasn’t the eyes then it was the absence of emotion, if it wasn’t his emotionlessness, then it was the fluidity of his seemingly unnatural movement. If it wasn’t any of those, the rumours would surely be enough to make a grown man sweat. After having met him for barely a few moments, the vizard could have believed half of the rumours he had heard, but the other half were just a little too preposterous to be believed. Following through the doorway, Shukumei remained close to Toki.
“Straight to the point, no beating around the bush. Fast and efficient,” the vizard continued, scratching his copper hair as he stretched his head to take a look into the lobby again. There was no lack of movement there and he doubted there ever was, even at nighttime. Fast and efficient indeed. Shukumei passed his cautious gaze to his companion for a moment to absorb her own expression and then returned to Arano’s back. Most would not have been able to figure but the two vizards had spent a lot of time together - Shukumei knew she was nervous, though acted as if he remained oblivious. It didn’t appear as though the Fukushima branch of Cerberus had time for weakness.
A nod was the girl’s only reply, it seemed best to let her companion speak for the time being.
Rumors had never reached Toki’s ears, but that didn’t stop her from feeling uneasy. This Arano guy moved unnaturally, the way special effects made vampires appear to do on screen. It didn’t matter how strong she was, or how stupid those movies were, she still felt a slight chill run down her spine when the Director had moved past her. She had entertained the idea of reaching for Shukumei’s hand, but that would only betray the tough front that she was trying to keep up.
Instead the horned vizard kept her eyes on the man they had come to meet with as the pair followed him down the hall. If only this Director were the smoking type, the second hand nicotine would have been greatly appreciated.
Back into the chaos of Fukushima, back where he belonged. Arano's stoicism slipped for a moment, and he took an appreciative breath of the fresh air as a small smile curled at the edges of his lips.
Then, it smoothed over. There was a precedent to be set, of course.
He knew where he was going, and his limbs knew all the handholds and stepping stones to get him there. Just a couple floors up from the ground, a small flag flapped lightly in an errant breeze, colored a vibrant green. Nodding for a moment, Arano didn't hesitate before throwing himself over the side of the railing.
Air whistled past his face for a moment, before his hand snapped out. It wrapped easily around one of the steel cables that suspended the catwalks, spinning him into the maze of twisted steel and walkways. Springing about, the young man was all but a blur of indistinct movement as he descended to the flag. With a final maneuver, he hooked his foot into a cable while his hands suspended him against the railing of a catwalk.
With a push, he flipped neatly back into the solid edging of the walls, where a hallway behind him led into another wing of the facility. Looking back up, he called out. "First test! Keep up!"
With that he turned around and strolled away.
Shukumei stared at the director and absorbed his every action until he hit solid ground. The man had a strangely creepy fluidity from the way he walked to the way he leaped over the railings and twisted himself around the cables and metal bars until he finally landed at his destination. More than that, the man was fast. Very fast. The teenager ran a hand through his copper hair and let loose in an inaudible sigh before passing a glance to his companion.
“Come on, Toki. Let’s go,” he said with a smile and jump onto the railing, pushing himself off with both feet. Leather jacket flourishing with the breeze, he grasped one of the dark metal cables swung until he was in reach of leaping to another. One of his favourite hobbies when he was settling in the world of the living was something humans called free running, though he broke the rules a little and liked to leap between buildings. It was fortunate he had enjoyed that so much as it made traversing the Cerberus branch a little easier.
Grasping the same cable that Arano hooked his foot around, Shukumei swung a few times to pick up momentum and then let go, soaring until he landed with both feet on the metal railing. Dropping down next to the director, he turned to watch Toki complete the same task. First test doesn’t seem so bad, he thought to himself.
“Oi, this Director guy is such a show off. Don’t you think Shu-” The Vizard had hardly heard her companion speak as she mused over her opinions of heterochromatic man. The sound of rubber souls on metal railing drew Toki’s eyes to Shukumei before she could finish speaking his name. Her gaze had shifted just in time to watch the copper-haired teen jump from his perch, repeating the human’s movements.
She let out a sigh, her finger tapping one of her small onyx like horns with her index finger as her eyes appeared to narrow with annoyance. The unconventional ways of Cerberus’ Fukushima branch was hardly something she had intended taking part in. Much to her dismay, parkour and acrobatics seemed to be the only way to get around in this ridiculous place. Of all the days to wear a skirt!
With an irritated huff sound, Tokiwa swung herself over to edge of the platform, letting herself fall for a moment before gripping the same cable she had seen used. Spiraling down until the distance seemed to measure up in her mind, the redhead pushed off one of the cables and came to land a bit behind Shukumei, her hood having been tossed over her head as she leapt about.
Toki tugged the hood down to it’s original position then proceeded to straighten out the rest of her clothing, or at least make sure she looked alright still. With a tug on Shuku’s leather sleeve the small vizard turned to follow the Director, “Lets not stand here too long, I doubt he’s a patient man.”
Making haste after the Director, they found him a short distance ahead. He stood outside a large pair of doors, and upon seeing the pair of Vizards, disappeared inside.
Shukumei narrowed his gaze and without realising, the index finger on his right hand began to tap against his leg. Reaching for his sword might have been offensive in front of an ally - well, an ally down on paper anyway, Shukumei still had yet to see what Arano’s intent was - so his fingers remained impatient and ready.
Why does every action this guy makes have to be so eery and enigmatic? the vizard thought to himself. He would have scratched his head if the tension inside his head made him feel as though his brain had turned to stone. It’s probably just the vibe he gives off.
“Come on, Toki,” Shukumei said calmly. His tone was so warm and soothing in fact, it might as well have been screaming nervous to anyone who took the time to figure him out, but outwardly he remained as serene as ever. Taking a deep breath evident only by the movement in his chest, he took the first step through the large doors.
Toki was slightly less eager to slip through the large double doors, the whole situation had her feeling a bit uneasy to say the least. Not much had been shared with her about what they would be doing before she left for Fukushima, and even less about what this Director was like.
With a deep sigh, the redhead followed her companion past the doorway.
The room was dark, at first. No lights, no sound. Then, the patter of feet. Finally, a blinding array of fluorescent lights strained the Vizards' vision. They appeared to be in a gigantic gymnasium!
Various apparatus hung from the ceiling, and what appeared to be numerous bars of steel protruded from the walls. They created an odd sort of stepladder into the rungs and twisted metal that lined the ceiling. All in all, it was strangely reminiscent of the main lobby, and perhaps as though some monstrosity had rampaged through the room.
Arano stood at the opposite end, facing both. In a baffling display, he wore neither his jacket, nor his shirt. Countless scars adorned the young man's upper body, his lean build displaying them neither proudly nor ashamedly.
A thick line traced along the side of his right arm, from wrist to elbow. A small cross marked the center of his chest, the scar tissue seemingly strangely fresh. Below that, a small crescent traced along his stomach. A long, thin line ran from his right shoulder downwards.
Battle-worn, Arano's eyes were alight with fervor. His voice called clearly across to them. "Welcome to your first bi-annual performance evaluation. My name is Sabishii Arano, the Director of Cerberus Fukushima."
Holding out a single hand, he seemed to recite the words from elsewhere. "You will be judged upon three qualities," he held up three fingers to emphasize, "however..."
Then, he lowered his hand once more.
"Seeing as this is your first evaluation, you won't be told what those are. Your goal is to display the full depth and variety of your abilities - in whatever fashion you deem fit - on me." He explained.
Spreading his arms wide, Arano's left foot slid back and the Director entered a loose combat stance. "Shed your gigai, Vizards... and mind your pets."
Staring for just a moment at his surroundings, the mysterious room and equally enigmatic Arano, he delved into his leather jacket pocket and pulled out the gikongan. Swallowing, he felt his soul leave his body and he found himself in those black and white robes again. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had stripped himself of his gigai and worn the consistently baggy shihakushou like he used to. It was probably because he begrudged the reminder of what he was.
With a quick nod, his new body’s consciousness fled and waited outside in the lobby. He didn’t want to damage it since he couldn’t just wander into the ninth and get a replacement. The teenager drew his wakizashi, that metal unsheathing sound producing an echo that seemed to bounce around the walls. He knew he had heard correctly and he suspected the Director was not a man who enjoyed repeating himself. The man wanted them to throw whatever they had against him in whatever way they deemed fit. Taking a deep breath, he glanced towards his comrade.
The Director’s request was one that the young Vizard had not been expecting. She had grown so used to occupying the gigai, the thought never struck her to shed the artificial body anymore. Her blue eyes met with the pair belonging to her roommate and held there for only a moment as she rummaged through her bag before retrieving the gikongan between her fingers. Without hesitation she downed the small caplet.
In no more than a second, felt herself separate from the shell that she had inhabited for so many years. With a small step forward she stood in the garb of a Shinigami once more, a reminder of what her life had been not so long ago.
With a fluid motion, Toki drew her zanpakutou as her blue eyes locked onto Arano. As an almost last minute thought, the redhead kicked behind her; her foot connecting with her gigai and making it stumbled back a bit. “Go wait outside.”
The sound of the door shutting behind signaled to her that they were clear begin.
Bringing his eyes back to the Director, Shukumei could feel the emotion being cast aside, blocked behind that layer of glass in his mind. It was time to fight and he could not afford to let them get in his way, especially when he had to prove himself to one of Cerberus’ most intimidating individuals.
“Then let us begin,” he finally announced and left a space of a few seconds before throwing his hand out towards the Director. “Shakkahou,” he called and the red orb of light left his palm, searing towards Arano. “Shakkahou,” he called a second time and another ball of red flame shot towards his opponent in the shadow of the first. Brandishing his blade, he began running towards the Advent, doubtless that the training was going to be difficult at worst.
Only moments after Shukumei began his attack, Tokiwa silently began her advance on the human. With any luck her companion’s flashy display would be enough of a distraction for her to move in close to the Director.
Slipping her wakizashi out of its sheath, the horned girl ran at Arano’s flank, the blade reaching for the back of his legs.
Arano nodded, voice clear and strangely impressed. "Good! Attacking in tandem!"
The Director twisted to the side, hand lashing out to catch the first orb. Exploding against his open palm, the plasma licked harmlessly at his skin. Then, he ducked low. The keen edge of Tokiwa's blade raked across his hamstrings, but failed to pierce the skin as well!
Looking up, the second Shakkahou continued directly for her, Arano having ducked away from it to leave her in its firing line.
Tokiwa watched Arano move away just moments before actually taking notice of the orb of red energy hurtling towards her. Sliding a foot behind her for support, the Vizard readied herself for the impact.
The Shakkahou met with Murasaki, pushing the horned girl back a bit as she forced the blade through the attack. It was amazing how solid a ball of energy could feel as you sliced it in half, like trying push something broad and flat through the water.
As soon that the orb had dissipated, Toki jumped back placing distance between Arano and her once more.
Shukumei felt a heat prickle down his spine when the fluidity of Arano proved itself, slithering around with such a flow that he left the vizard’s ally in the path of burning destruction. Releasing an inaudible sigh once Toki defending the attack with her blade, the copper-haired teenager focussed once more on is target. There were still plenty of cards to play.
“Ningyou Tsukaiken,” he called and the clone sprung out of him with identical features, from expression on its face to the clothing it wore. “Kyokko.”
With that final release of reiatsu, the clone vanished from sight and with wakizashi in hand, the vizard charged his foe. The clone followed behind him, but only he knew its exact movements since he turned it invisible. Lunging forward with his blade in a vertical slash downwards, his clone dodged to the side and struck horizontally from a different angle to maximise the effort of the attack.
The spells, used in open sight, drew a frown from Arano. The heedless charge that followed cemented it. "Surprise, unpredictability, all very useful..."
The invisible blade clamored against him, the veil of Kyokko drawn away to reveal the clone for a brief moment. Its blade failed utterly against the hardened skin of the Advent, and the Director's face became stern.
In a single deft movement, he snatched the edge of the blade, pulling Shukumei close - dangerously close - and allowing the man to see the full tapestry of battle scars Arano bore.
"... but this is not a game, Shukumei Junichi. I have seen enough petty tricks to fill a lifetime. I bore witness to the greatest wielder of Kidou that has ever existed unleashing his full prowess.
"I have had your former Tyrant level his utmost at me, and turned it away with my bare hands." As if to emphasize his point, Arano forced the blade of Gekijin down effortlessly, bringing it entirely out of the range of harming him.
Leveling a grim glare at the young-looking Vizard, Arano drove his forehead into Shukumei's nose. A dry crunch signified the dislocation of the offending appendage.
Shaking his head in disgust, he released Gekijin and stared pointedly at Tokiwa. "Show me why Zakki saw fit to send you to me. I wished to see the depth of your abilities, not play trivial games. If you insist on not taking this seriously..."
Drops of blood trailed down Arano’s palm, dripping uselessly onto the floor below.
All at once, the umbra of the room shook and trembled. Threads of energy could almost be glimpsed in the reflections of the sun that cast into the room. The shadows roiled and trembled, eager to be displaced from their dormancy.
"... I will find reason for you to."
Shukumei let out an agonised yelp and staggered backwards until he was out of reach of the brutal Director. Holding his nose in pain - he couldn’t see how much blood he produced due to the water welling up in his eyes - he listened to the man’s words and felt heat travelling his spine. His blood was getting hot and only one thing called to him when his anger began to itch.
Letting out another cry as he snapped his nose back into place, he wiped his face on his sleeve, clearing his eyes and removing some of the blood but more than his injuries, his mind began to work. He wanted to see the depth of their abilities, no doubt meaning their inner hollows but it was not Daraku that called to him. That red-faced reptilian bore a twisted smile that dug through his brain and made itself known. The hands that grasped his wakizashi grew so tense that his knuckles turned white and his teeth gritted together as his natural reluctance tried to hinder him. Briefly, he passed a glance to Toki and for a moment was simply glad that she had not had her nose dislocated instead.
Blue eyes narrowed on the Director, “So, you want to see that side of us?” The words were rhetorical, spoken my to herself than the odd eyed man that stood before the pair.
“I felt it was a little early in the game, but if you feel differently I see no reason not to toss that ball into the court.” A smirk had worked it’s way onto Tokiwa’s face as a blackness danced across her scleras; like ink being poured into water. Her blue irises taking on a golden hue has her hollow powers crawled at the surface. Bringing her hand up to her face and sliding it down quickly, she donned the face of the beast the lurked within. Eyes of a hollow now locked onto Arano through a mask resembling that of a white stone komainu.
The Vizard leapt up, perching herself in a crouching position on a long metal beam that ran the length of the room, her hands gripping the steel as two voices spoke in unison behind the mask. “It’s just not our usual protocol, is all.”
Slowly a bright red orb began to form in front of the mask’s snarl like grin giving off a sound comparable to a jet engine upon take off, before shooting down at the man in a long beam of energy.
Arano breathed deeply, taking in the weight of the Vizard's reiatsu. The gathering energy was tainted, its malice filling his lungs with innate terror.
Another breath. In... and out.
With a guttural snarl, the beam - red as blood and black as night - was lancing forwards.
In... and out.
The movement was blinding, Arano's form spinning to slam an open palm against the front of the Cero. All at once, his energy unfurled from behind its veil of shadows and dark. The weight hit both Vizards like a truck - their knees buckling and their lungs desperately pleading for air - as the Director allowed his full power to levy against the ultimate ability of hollowkin.
Then, his foot pivoted around, and the beam lurched sideways. Diverted behind him, Arano had elected to allow it to pass harmlessly. The implication was no less clear: the attack was a plaything to him, something to be toyed with and measured, before discarding.
Threads of black danced in the air briefly, condensing into a solid form around Arano's face and neck. A moment later, two long wisps of darkness trailed away. A messy swath of the umbra sat about his neck, obscuring his mouth. The scarf was long, a testament to the experience and power of the young Advent. The tips of either end evaporated periodically, like smoke disappearing into the ether.
Indigo, darkest blue that bordered on the purplish hue that Arano's hair bore beneath layers of dye, pulsed from his form. Stains of black, more threads of power that remained of his accord with Ciro Martelli, trailed through it like oil.
As his reiatsu continued to press against both, Arano spoke clearly. "Your power is admirable, but your execution lacking. Do you believe an opponent cares for your usual protocol? Do you believe they will allow you to hit your stride, to fully test their abilities before revealing your own?
"No." He spoke the word condemningly. His reiatsu abated, but was no longer restrained. The salient energy hidden just beneath his left eye danced with power.
He stepped towards Tokiwa, her altitude doing nothing to stop him from looking down upon her. "Gone are the days where dramatics preceded actions. Battle is not a glory to be won, but a crime to be committed.
"Come, Vizards. I would see the true depth of your abilities."
Fingertips digging into the hilt of his wakizashi, Shukumei watched as Toki’s cero was diverted in what seemed like such an effortless flow of motions. Arano was like water made out of shadows, always moving with such a fluidity that attacks seemed to just bend around him. Though that strike with his head... he was like water flowing through the dark that could solidify whenever it wanted. Such a formidable foe, but that wasn’t what made the teenager stall for a few precious moments.
He could stomp out someone double your reiatsu using only that iron skull of his, Gekijin grunted. His tone was mocking and it hit the spot so well, Shukumei’s spine felt like it was on fire with the torrents of heat prickling up and down, but no matter what way he tried to look at the situation, his zanpakutou was right. Use me! He wants to see everything you have so give it to the bastard. Don’t you hold back on me, shit-for-brains!
With a sigh the vizard conceded.
“Lacerate the heart, Gekijin.”
The crimson reiatsu flowed through the wakizashi and shimmered until the blade morphed into a narrow European shortsword. Without ceasing his motions once he felt the lust of his zanpakutou, Shukumei drew his free hand to his face and that narrow ram-horned mask began to materialise. Black and gold eyes stared out of the slit he used for a visor, crimson reiatsu twisting with the corruption of his inner hollow.
Everything seemed easier once he wore the face of his demon. A dark confidence filled him and allowed him to make bold moves he never would have dared to make prior to his hollowfication. Slashing his blade down and sending a wave of destructive energy towards the Director. Following up his attack, a ring of red lightning appeared behind the vizard’s free hand and fired a bala with speed. The influence of Daraku came in heavy, but Shukumei was listening to Arano’s advice - he was not going to hold back.
She knew next to nothing about this man. He was strong, that much she could tell, strong enough that if he were truly an enemy she wouldn’t stand a chance. Still, Tokiwa had hardly expected her attack to just be tossed aside; made to look like nothing more than a ball to dodge.
Black and gold eyes narrowed their gaze on the Director as he spoke, his words carving their way into the Vizard’s mind. That attack hadn’t been enough for him, he still wanted to see more and Shukumei had seen fit to oblige causing a deep pulse reverberate throughout her body as Gekijin pulled at her reiatsu.
Without a word to him, the horned girl shot her companion a look of annoyance, mostly hidden by her mask. The drain wasn’t large but it was enough for her to feel a slight spiritual tug in the blade’s direction.
A sigh escaped from the redhead’s lips as her gaze returned to the man who had brought the two hybrids to the gymnasium like room. If more was what he desired of them, then she would be sure to do her part to full fill that demand.
“Burst into the ambient air, Murasaki!” Two voices called out for the zanpakutou from behind the mask Tokiwa wore. The blade held in her right hand twisted and contorted, reshaping itself into an ornate scimitar. Small vents dotted the dorsal edge of the sword’s new form, allowing a violet smoke to pour out and accumulate into a stationary cloud above it’s wielder.
"Good." Arano stated brusquely. He pivoted low, before springing upwards, flipping headlong atop the wave of malignant energy. It looked as though the human would simply descend into its grasp, but where his feet should've sunk cleanly into the Vizard's attack, he kicked off!
The wave led straight back to Shukumei, its head slamming into the opposite side of the vast room in a roar of fire and power. Racing across the top of it, Arano lashed out with a vicious kick as he passed Shukumei.
Sure, reflecting his own attacks Shukumei could deal with, after all there was plenty where that came from. Surfing along the top of his own shikai attack? Well, that was definitely a new one. Gurgling in his throat as his own attack passed him, the vizard held up his blade and prepared to defend against the Directors attack. By the way that he moved he might as well have been defending a cero, though one of the hollow beams of death was likely easier to cut.
The instant that the man’s leg swung, Shukumei was faced with a decision that he had mere moments to come to a conclusion. He turned his blade side on and stood his ground as Arano’s strike hit home. The arcane specialist managed to curved his blade so that it blocked the strike, but only stopping him from breaking his ribs, or his neck, or his spine. The blade lashed against his mask - it was fortunate he turned his blade side on or it would have split Daraku’s face in half - and he was sent through the air backwards, only just about managing to recover his balance before he landed on two feet. That blow was a heavy one though, and since his own blade hit his head, black flecks had appeared in his vision.
Though his breathing was growing heavy and pressure was increasing inside his mind, he still had full control over his demons and he thought it was time he changed that. With a swift jab of his sword, he released Gekijin’s energy and immediately began to focus. A swirling ball of red destruction began to manifest in front of his face, twisting and turning, energies colliding as it increased in size. Any combatant of his experience would have been able to comprehend the signature hollow attack that always caused mayhem, yet he wondered how well the Director would be able to handle one when it had been infused with his reiatsu and split.
The swirling red orb multiplied into twenty, all in an arc over Shukumei’s shoulders and head. The instant that they were locked in place they were sent searing towards the vizard’s target as he landed, twenty small ceros the size of basketballs and imbued with his twisted reiatsu. At the very least he hoped he caught the Director off guard, even if nothing came of the attack.
A dark flash accompanied by a low rumble pulled at Arano's memories, the myriad of swirling crimson orbs bringing his memories to the frozen caldera, madness pulling at his senses and unbearable heat searing at him until naught remained.
His eyes narrowed, blood beginning to boil and race.
In instant later, he was gone. His form swathed in black for a moment before he simply sunk away, too quickly to be perceived by either Vizard. An instant later, a deafening crash sounded against the floor of the arena. Great hunks of concrete pelted the wall, dust clearing to reveal a pock-marked section of the floor.
A sharp pressure in Toki's back was all the warning she received before it turned to sharp pain. Launched harshly from her platform, she could glimpse back at her perch where Arano now stood. Balanced spryly on one foot, his other remained outstretched, the remnants of the firm kick to her back.
Glimpse back she did, there had been no warning to the fact that the man would end up right behind her, not that quickly. The Director’s swift kick had sent the small Vizard sailing into the concrete in only an instant, trading places with Arano before she could comprehend what had occurred.
The sudden blow had knocked the wind out of the redhead’s lungs, a small gasp emitting from Toki’s parted lips as she pushed herself off the wrecked floor, Murasaki firmly in hand, and turned to face the man. A trail of purple haze had left in the path that she took to the ground, hanging in the air and waiting to be called upon by its wielder.
Reaching into the smoke in front of her, Tokiwa gripped something within it tightly and gave it a jerk. A chain rattled, clearing the remaining smoke from around it and revealing a purple tinged kusari that lead up to just behind the man that now stood above the two hybrids. Looking down upon them with his terrible expression.
Toki took the time to return one of her own, just for good measure. She wasn’t about to let anyone have the pleasure of seeing her as vulnerable.
A kama materialized inches behind Arano. It’s creation was a bit of a stretch Murasaki’s reach, but it managed to form fully, completing the kusarigama. The horned girl gave the newly formed weapon a hard tug, pulling the blade forward and hopefully against the Director’s back.
Pure reflex drove Arano's hand outwards, snapping up the chain of the kusarigama with practiced ease. A sly grin curled at the edges of his mouth, and he reeled backwards. His titanic strength ripped the rest of the weapon clean from Tokiwa's hands.
Flourishing the weapon briefly, he allowed its lengthy chain to dangle low, nearly reaching the ground. Then, surprisingly, Arano remained still. He breathed deeply, his words strangely hoarse and choked. "Your abilities... are respectable, Vizards. However-kuh!"
A sharp pain split his chest, and brought stinging tears to Arano's eyes. He spoke no more, instead breathing harshly through his mouth and coughing roughly. His bare chest began to bleed from the center of the small cross engraved into it.
Finally, he found strength to speak again, briefly. "You... will fight things... beyond comprehension. It is time... you fought what truly lurks in the shadows."
The world caved inwards on the pair of Vizards. In an instant their reality was thrown sideways, the pressure of Arano's reiatsu suddenly filled with all the malice and madness he had previously restrained. His eyes strained wide with agony and unrestrained murderous potential.
Threads of black mingled with those of red, the insanity of Ciro Martelli permeating Arano's true powers. The room groaned, iron beams letting loose high-pitched shrieks as they bent and twisted under the pressure. A low growl rumbled from the man's throat, and his chest split open!
Black pitch dribbled down to his stomach from the wound, mingled with the deep crimson of his blood before spilling down to the floor the two Vizards occupied. The chain of the kusarigama rattled as Arano's energy went rampant, the scarf about his neck coalescing into full garments. It ran down to his chest, spreading to his arms and trailing away at his legs like the overcoat he had already shed.
Yet this sight would not be witnessed by Shukumei or Tokiwa. Their eyes were fixed to the slowly gathering mass of shadow and blood on the floor before them. Like some ungodly creation recently born unto the world, it stretched upwards until the vague outline of a hand was visible.
A low, dry chuckle emanated from Arano, and their sights momentarily drew back to him. "Urashio, the Reversed Tide.
"So tell me, Moriyama Tokiwa... what does your usual protocol tell you to do now?"
The froth bubbled like steaming soup, and the wet sounds brought their terrified attentions back to the Blood Shadow, now coagulating fully. What drew itself up on two legs was a dark and terrible revision of Arano himself. Crudely shaped, red coursed through where the construct's left eye existed, trailing away in a million strands like cracked glass.
Four tendrils of darkness peeled from its form to slough onto the floor. Then, as though life sprung anew from them, they lashed forwards and upwards towards each Vizard's neck!
Tainted eyes snapped shut quickly out of pure fear, rejecting the horrible dark figure that now stood in the room and refusing to watch the black tendril that sped at her. In an instant Tokiwa had willed a thick wall of purple tinted steel into existence, standing at roughly seven feet tall and shielding both Vizards from whatever monster Arano had just dreamt up.
Pivoting around quickly, the horned girl pressed her back against the cool metal wall; eyes wide open once more and full of terror. Goldenrod irises locked onto Shukumei as Toki’s heart rapidly pounded inside of her chest, like an animal caught in a trap.
The whole evaluation suddenly made little sense, reality had been warped around herin such a way that she was no longer sure that this wasn’t just a nightmare. The teen Vizard’s stomach turned and rolled violently, both fear and nerves forcing bile up into her throat and causing her to swallow harshly to keep it from ending up all over the back of her mask.
Waruagaki growled lowly in her mind, tugging lightly at her impure soul, pleading form more room to play with. Even through extreme terror Toki push him back, such lengths weren’t called for yet...were they? No, the Director was technically an ally, there was no need for her inner hollow to feel so threatened. Pushing the beast down was the rational decision.
Toki’s hollow eyes shifted to Arano and her front was resumed once more, but not as convincing as it had been previously.
“For us, there comes a time when protocol must be thrown out in favor of instincts. You tell me, Director Arano...what time is it?”
Shukumei managed one last release of his shikai’s energy towards the tentacle before the wall of Toki’s own zanpakutou shrouded him. Even with the momentary silence that came with hiding behind the purple smoke, his heartbeat pounded through his head and the beings inside him called for blood. Of course, unlike most hollows, Daraku did not mind a retreat if it meant survival. He was too smart for his own good.
The teenager remained close to his companion after they locked eyes, but his blade would not allow him to stay peaceful for long. Once the smoke parted, he set his own hollow eyes on the Arano in his horrifying form.
“Your form is disgusting and surely the sort of thing many have nightmares about,” the two voices overlapped, one the teenager and the other deep and grim, “but your power is the only thing I am concerned about in this fight. Regardless of our strength, Toki and I know our demons and we’ve lived our own nightmares. Other than that, you’re just a being stronger than both of us, no more and no less. So while we still stand, we’ll fight until this forsaken evaluation is over.”
A heady sigh escaped Arano's lips, the pair of Vizards unable to see the disappointment in his eyes. His words were hoarse, but spoken with conviction. "So be it."
The tendrils of shadow, wispy and spastic, slammed against the barrier. It held - if only for a moment, but it held - and then shattered away like so much glass. The first tendril wound itself about Tokiwa's neck, lifting her clean off the ground. Two more snared about Shukumei's arms, pinning them behind him. The last of the wisps splashed against the ground, and the coagulated Blood Shadow seemed to evaporate.
Its form became liquid, amorphous, the tendril a pathway and before a word was spoken it was betwixt the Vizards. Staring impassively, blankly, at Shukumei. Arano leapt from his perch, staggering as he hit the ground and clutching lightly at his now-open wound.
His eyes remained strong, not an ounce of pain betrayed in them as he stalked ever closer to the suspended Tokiwa. "Time is a luxury, Moriyama. A luxury we rarely - if ever - have.
"Yet it is also the most valuable one we could possibly afford. We buy it wholesale to stall and barter with the other problems that assail us. You, of all people, must be familiar with such an idea." He stopped short, crossing his arms and now ignoring the blood streaming from his chest.
He closed his eyes as he continued. "Why do you think you're really here, Vizard?"
...
Silence answered his question. With an almost exhausted sigh, he continued. “You are here because you have been lied to. You were guaranteed sanctuary and found only debt. A debt you have not been enabled to rey... and so it must fall to me to empower you.”
With a rasping cough, both were released. Stepping away, he cast one final conclusion back at the Vizards. “This evaluation is a failure. Report to this training room in two days time, and be ready for training.”
As the doors closed behind the Director, the pair were left with a single question: what qualities had they failed to demonstrate?