Volume [Plot Missions] - El Hueso AmortajÁƒ ³ el Fuego
Chapter 7 - Midnight
I don't really know why, but to be honest, I really do love to see that expression.
There's something about the emotion captured across the lips, jaw, eyes...whether it be disbelief or anguish. I know that when I arrive, I will be making it. Making it, making it. Making it so very hard. And for eons (because I've definitely been around for longer than you), I didn't really like coming. It wasn't so much that I felt guilty about making it so hard for everyone as it was that I felt I really shouldn't enjoy looking at that expression.
Then, one day (or week, or month, or year, or century...it's all the same to me), I thought up something that gave me comfort: it's not really my fault if things get too hard. Because you see, I'm not responsible for making it all so very difficult.
You are.
I understand it's a given that you and anybody else would feel that way just from my dropping in, but I really don't give a **** anymore. Because humans always have the capacity to be of the equal and opposite side of the scale for what they are capable of.
If you are something some poor fool claims to be less than human, you also have the choice of being something more than human.
If you are able to kill that fellow, you're able to save him as well.
And if you can cry and bitch every time I come by, then you can also accept that I win, and you lose. Maybe if you all would accept that, I would be deprived of that expression I adore. But you won't...because the other dumb thing about you is that you like moaning about me. Like shedding tears about me. Being made into the victim...it satisfies you on some level. I see it with everything else...people claiming they are unable to work at their jobs when it's so very obvious that if they are able to ask for money, they are also able to ask if someone would like fries with their meal. People demanding cash from others because they were too stupid to remember that things have results, results, results, not just **** causes, and that if they do something stupid, they will inevitably be dealt back something just as stupid. And people crying their eyes out whenever I show up, asking why, why, why? Why did I do it? Why did I do it?
Stop crying. Stop asking. It doesn't matter. What's important is I came, and I win, you lose. Deal with it. If you want to defeat me, then get over me. I after all, can only hurt those who fear me. Or like me. Or hate me.
Do you...fear me? Like me? Hate me? Want to be the guy who defeats me? Gets over me? Gets back up after I've gone ahead and pushed you on the ground?
If you do beat me, then I congratulate you. In the meantime, I have others to visit...I do, after all, love seeing that expression.
Really now, you all are so...
~~~
...Awful.
And have you seen how they run out of gas?
They beat the pain, they sing in the rain.
Endless and formless, they fly to the end,
And back to the beginning again
Have you put them aside?
Your crazy thoughts and dreams.
No, they're a part of me and they all mean one thing.
The Will to Death is what keeps me alive.
It's one step away,
Step away.
Limitations are set: only then can we go all the way,
All the way.
And have you seen how the cars, when they pass, they come your way, then they're speeding away.
Coming to you and then going away, but for them nothing changed.
Nothing changed.
~~~
Nothing changed.
If there was a reason why, it would most likely be because Masaru and Sosogu were too astonished at Petycon's arrival, though it'd be a fallacious statement if it were said that Masaru was more stunned over the Arrancar's appearance than whom he so carelessly had tied to his back.
"Nesuai," he breathed, his face pale to the point that the sweat drops glistened all the more noticeably in the soft light. Her form was wilted, devoid of vitality, and her hair weakly drifted from her hung head to cover the eyes that were doubtlessly closed in slumber.
Petycon merely spared a glance at the Commander General before turning to face Sosogu's once again collected disposition, his hand tightening around the green blade with an obvious trembling.
"Ahhhh...the poor pawn that Emptybones has been using. He even let you take control for a while, eh? In any case, I think it's time to bring out the current 'Lord of All Hollows'. So why don't you just be a good puppet, and vanish for a little-"
All three figures moved into action: Sosogu's ribcage abruptly shot out from the bodily container that it had resided within, still attached to the inner flesh by thick cords of tissue. Simultaneously, Masaru attempted to seize the opportunity presented and cut cleanly through the cord that imprisoned Nesuai. Instead, Petycon used the aggressive mandibles of bone as leverage to leap over and away from both, but not without locking a powerful grip on the ribs in question, so that he dragged the monstrous frame of Sosogu with him. The three split so that Sosogu and Petycon were locked together at a great distance from Masaru, who was quickly gathering the spiritual pressure he'd need to reactivate Bankai. Petycon leaned his visage so close that the ivory crescent encircling his eye threatened to cut into the forehead of his supposed leader.
"Come on now...why are you still out here? I told you I desired to speak with Emptybones, not you, Master Marionette."
Sosogu grinned with the same, calm self-assurance that he had displayed since entering the fight.
"You are rather interesting for a weakling, Petycon. Do you not see the situation? I am clearly the one in control right now. More so, you presume yourself worthy of speaking to me in such a manner? I'll have to teach you about the true nature of this connection Emptybones and I share...and in the process, instruct you on who exactly is the puppet here," he murmured with a ripple of bloodlust, but Petycon simply leered back.
"Instruct me who the puppet is? Why would I need to be told when I can clearly see the strings for myself?" the Arrancar replied, using his spare hand to point at the side of Sosogu's face. At the edge of his peripheral vision, Sosogu could see the freakish vein and nerve deformities that signified Emptybones' mask beginning to creep forth. His eyes dilated in alarm, the left iris beginning to glow with the familiar emerald light once again.
"What?! But how? This is my zanpakutou, my Bankai! How is he-"
Petycon interrupted with the sadistic sneer.
"What a fool! Truly a testament to the idiocy of Shinigami. You asked me if I presumed myself worthy of speaking to you? I ask you, do you presume yourself capable of dominating the Lord of All Hollows?! It doesn't matter if you wield the release more effectively than Emptybones...you thought you had snatched control back? He let you, just so that he could observe how to properly make use of that zanpakutou's ability. And now, he should have all the information he needs. Farewell, Master Marionette. I do hope Emptybones does not leave you in the drawers to rot for too long."
The shaken countenance of Sosogu was given one last moment to soak in these words before the atrocious body began to convulse, this time to the lamentations of the former Keigun Head. His shrieks gained in intensity as the sarcous undulations of Emptybones corpulent visor enshrouded Sosogu's face yet again, producing a horrific squishing sound to accompany the screaming. Then the howls ceased, and the jade glimmer of Emptybones' eyes shone forth with revitalized vivacity. They focused on the still sneering figure of Petycon.
"Petycon...I don't believe I asked you to interfere with Hagane Sosogu, or this fight. The order was only to bring the woman...so why are you acting like this?" observed the chorus of voices. Petycon's trembling grew more vivid at this declaration.
"I am sorry, my Lord Emptybones. You planned this moment for me since gracing me with your infinitesimal power. I can hardly stand how well the pieces fell together, even if he..." the eyes focused on the listening Masaru, who was beginning to radiate the golden red incandescence for a second time, "had interfered more directly than we would've wished." The Commander General grinned at the two with an amused disposition.
"As funny as it is to listen to you two confirm the size of the other's ego, I'm afraid I don't need to be gossiped about right in front of my face," he called. His auburn eyes, in contrast to the confidence his voice carried, furrowed in thought.
Petycon is playing along with this loyalty bull towards Emptybones, even though he told me he never intended to stay under the *******. Should I go ahead and let Emptybones know? In the confusion, things would be easier for me to snatch Nesuai back...but if I keep it under wraps, Petycon will be set to backstab Emptybones at any opportunity. That's a wonderful asset for me. If I time it correctly, I can bring him and Emptybones down...but it'll be even more of an advantage for me if Emptybones is aware of Petycon's betrayal with Petycon being unsure of it. I'll go ahead and attempt to let him know through talking.
The smile, still anxious at the corners over Nesuai's motionless form but ultimately keeping its positive nature, spread across his countenance.
"Anyway, I think all three of us are fine with no more conversation. Especially since our fight affects so many people...and Hollows," he responded, temporarily meeting the gaze of Emptybones before returning his attention to a quiet Petycon. The former stirred with an almost deliberate blatancy.
"Don't worry about the Hollows, Shinkou. I can assure you that a dominion with me at the head will benefit all of them," the chorus replied, and Masaru scoffed as Petycon's grimace grew.
"What? Of course I'm going to worry, with the civil strife that you Hollows always have. If the Hollows are sucked into a civil war, many souls will be lost as a result of them not being purified through a zanpakutou."
Emptybones face did not betray any confusion, but he didn't respond: his eyes simply shifted to the unmoving Petycon, then back to Masaru again. The three remained silent until the whirring roar of the whirlpools on Petycon's hands exponentially increased in volume.
"I'm going to tear him apart, Lord Emptybones. You can just sit back and watch from-"
"So tell me then about what you meant earlier: how did I directly interfere with your plans?" he asked to cut off Petycon, and before the Arrancar could recover from the disruption, the ocean of various voices drawled.
"Shinkou, surely you've realized why the girl was still alive when you came into Hueco Mundo, despite being imprisoned by us. Don't dismiss it as our simply not knowing who she was...I can assure you that if we hadn't, the girl would be very dead right now."
The Commander General's pastel expression, which had begun to be replaced with color, now returned to its insipid shade.
"Oh, it seems you didn't even spare it a second thought. Sosogu was right about your naivety, Shinkou. You were too busy celebrating to comprehend that we wanted her alive. That sightless ecstasy you attained upon 'rescuing' her from our prison blinded you to the obvious reality: we had always intended for Kyoumou Nesuai to be killed in front of your eyes. You taking her back only succeeded in forcing me to spare my strongest Arrancar to get the job done...but once we succeeded, and the girl was dead, I knew you would be broken beyond a shadow of a doubt," the voices chortled sadistically in an assortment of pitches. Masaru gritted his teeth as the aura of flame flared around him.
"Broken?! What an imbecilic plan, even for you! You kill Nesuai...and I will never rest until you are as dead as she."
The choir of ghostly phantoms broke into laughter, a disturbing sound that caused even Petycon to tense up in a defensive manner.
"I know that. I want you to get angry. I want you to be filled with fury. Because Shinkou, the greatest weakness of you is not your unwavering faith in those who don't deserve it, as Sosogu believed. It's the nature of that odd strength of yours. It builds up as a result of tranquil feelings, happiness and content with your world. I know that without this girl, you can never truly attain any of those things. I know that without this girl, your strength will be but a fraction of what it could ever truly be. And I know that without this girl, you can't beat me."
~Masaru, don't do-~
Tasukeru attempted to break in before his master would fall victim to his emotions, but to no avail.
Livid, Masaru began to rush into an onslaught towards the still chuckling Emptybones with frightening velocity, but the ominous silhouette of Petycon materialized in front of him. The fist clawed away at his chest, digging deep enough to spout miniature fountains of blood that were sucked into the vacuum of the whirlpool on Petycon's hands. The Shintsuuro recoiled to place space between him and the Arrancar.
"I don't think I ever expected to see you quite this berserk, Masaru. It's to be expected though...the girl was tortured countless times to give us the information we needed in order to get you exactly the way you are now. She really was a godsend," the Espada snickered, and the still limp figure of Nesuai was lifted close enough for Petycon to lick her cheek in thanks. He ran his blood stained claws through her hair, which bred scarlet streams that dabbed at the side of Nesuai's cheek like streaks of red paint. The action incensed Masaru even more, for he launched into a wild offensive. The sword strokes held little skill and much emotion behind each swing, and Petycon evaded them all while keeping the cataleptic figure of Nesuai out in front to act as a buffer, slowing the Commander's strikes severely. Though Masaru was swinging, he didn't really seem to be attacking: his eyes were hazed, and his movements were sluggish.
His mind was entrapped in the maelstrom of memory.
"Oh...figured you'd be here."
His first thought was that the forest had taken whatever idyllic fantasies ran through his mind and manifested an incarnation of celestial beauty for his entertainment, and she was beautiful. But his senses returned in recognition of Nesuai (why did he always wonder at her presence, as if he had never seen her before?) and his gaze once again fell on the clear brook that flowed inches from his bare feet.
"Sorry about that. I just couldn't stand to stay at the Headquarters anymore...I needed fresh air," he replied gingerly, running a hand through his short hair with brevity. She was at his side now, bent over so that she had pulled her knees to her chest and staring at him with a somewhat irritated expression. He arched an eyebrow hesitatingly.
"Something wrong?" he asked, and immediately regretted it, for her gaze narrowed to one of exasperated aggravation.
"Look. I know that you have a hard time swallowing this, but not everyone else's mistakes are your fault," she growled, and he smiled sadly at her.
"Even if that were true, I'm not entitled to believing that. Or letting myself believe it."
"Why not?"
"You're too persistent."
"You're too **** pessimistic."
They sat there quietly, the only sound being the sonorous flow of the creek breaking ever so gently against the numerous rocks that were scattered along its path.
"My sister got murdered a couple years after I came to Soul Society," Masaru said hollowly. Nesuai did not turn to him: she didn't want to move even a fraction of an inch if she had him talking at last.
"Oh? What happened?"
"She was killed in an attempt to break me. Traumatize me to the point that I wouldn't want to grow up to become a Shinigami. I remember it very well."
"Ahhh...so you think that's your fault, huh?"
"Actually, it was my fault, given that I was the one who killed her."
This time, the silence was complete. The brook no longer made any sound in its coursing downhill. The leaves failed to rustle despite the breeze that passed through. All had been hushed.
"You were forced to by somebody?"
"That's the question, isn't it? He threatened me to do it, but does that mean I was forced to? I've thought about that for so many decades...and I wonder if I should've just slit my throat instead of Konai's."
The silence was broken as Nesuai's hand smacked sharply against the 12th division member's cheek, sending him face first into the vividly green grass. He lifted himself up slowly, suffering from the disbelief at the sudden slap.
"What the hell was that-"
"I knew you were an idiot, but I didn't know you were hopeless too."
Masaru snarled as he stood back up and began to head away from the brook's edge.
"I don't need to listen to someone that isn't even respecting me, much less the nature of who I-"
The world flipped upside down, and Masaru's head went cleanly into the ground again as Nesuai wiped her hands with a flushed countenance.
"You're not going anywhere until you've listened to how you're being stupid. For one, you can't ever change the past. The people who attempt to hide, run away from, flee-"
"I'm not running away from the past, I'm-"
His retort was cut off as a rock rebounded off his forehead, causing him to flail in pain across the ground. Nesuai sighed with an air of satisfaction.
"That felt pretty good. Anyway, no...you're not running away from it, but you're certainly not standing up to it. You have to dominate the past, and not let it dominate you. Otherwise, you become a tool of the past, and never get to have your own dreams."
Rubbing his forehead tenderly, the Shintsuuro scoffed.
"Dreams. So you think I have a right to dream too?" he asked sorely, and Nesuai blinked. Her response, unlike before, was tentative and uncertain.
"...no. I don't think so. Or at least...that's not the same thing. I don't really know about that. I don't think that someone who is responsible for others is allowed to have dreams," she whispered. Masaru jeered at this with a malevolent grin.
"Oh? So the leaders of the Gotei don't have the right to dream, eh? That's very saddening...to never be happy," he trailed off.
"I didn't say that," she snapped back, "dreams and happiness are two different things. Everyone has the ability to be happy, even people who have some duty or responsibility to keep. They just have to make other people's happiness their own. But dreams are different. Dreams are something personal, something for just us. So those who need to be in charge of protecting others can't be thinking of their own dreams when they need to be aiding others in their own."
She started when a twig snapped: Masaru had stood back up, and he was looking at her in the manner that made her uncomfortable. It wasn't because his gaze carried any belligerence; quite the contrary. His eyes were gentle, tender at the center that held her reflection, but the outside rims were burning with a passion, an ardor that she could feel if she breathed. It was almost like an aura that he gave off, and the air seemed thick with it.
"That's interesting, I think. I'll remember it Nesuai. But I don't like that part about dreams. It's too...pessimistic," he finished, and her face scrunched up.
"But...you're pessimistic," she replied, and he laughed at this, startling her again with the unexpectedness of it.
"Yeah, I am, but..." his eyes focused on her, and she felt an odd flush, different from the one earlier, flowing into her cheeks, "...I think I'm getting a bit tired of pessimism. Especially if optimism can produce wonderful young ladies like you."
And with that, he headed back out through the brush, leaving a very flustered Nesuai alone at the brook side.
As each cut whipped through the air, thoughts of a much greater speed shot through his racing mind.
Nesuai...I've got to get you back. This isn't like last time...where all I wanted to do was save you so I wouldn't fail like I did before. I don't even care about whether I am a stronger warrior with you alive and well. I don't care at all about that!
Tasukeru's blade swept just short of Petycon's neck.
I've got to get you back because I love you. Not because you take care of my faults as an automatically faulted man, not because you always came and supported me those days at the brook side when I needed someone most.
A Byakurai shot in vain past the Arrancar's right cheek, splitting some of the hybrid's skin.
I love you for who you are as a person. Your personality, your strengths, your faults, just that heart of yours.
The golden red fist of Houyoku no Te no Hira bloomed in the direction of Petycon's chest.
Your values, your sense of responsibility, your resolve. And your wisdom. I had all these philosophies that I had came to believe were completely faultless...perfect in their application, and realistic in their standards. But you showed me that being pessimistic...
The sphere of pure Hizashi was swallowed away by the black holes churning above the hybrid's palms.
...even, even if it protected me from getting hurt by never letting me feel real pain...
A Teikoutoppa roared forth from the zanpaku.
...it also prevented me from becoming content by never letting me feel real happiness either.
Petycon sneered in triumph as he placed Nesuai between the zangeki and himself, and the Commander grimaced as he was forced to prematurely will the Teikoutoppa to explode. The dark blue crescent was exchanged with the golden red of Hizashi, which was devoured by the hungry vortexes of Sombra-Alabea.
You showed me that the bad experiences in life are not for focusing on, but for reminding us to appreciate the good ones.
Emerging through the cloud wreathed in smoke, the Arrancar slashed Masaru's right shoulder as the Shintsuuro attempted to retaliate with a swift kick to the hybrid's skull.
You showed me that I'm allowed to be content with myself. Even if...
The kick was negated with a block from the left hand, and the two broke apart. Petycon was standing next to Emptybones again, still sneering playfully at his antagonist, but Masaru's breaths were coming in quick, short-lived gasps as blood continued to run out of his wounds. Throughout the entire exchange, his eyes had never left Nesuai, who still drooped from her binding, and now the haze dissipated as clear resolution reflected from the irises.
...even if I don't really deserve it. Because...
"...I think my dream is to be content. And I need you in order to be truly satisfied, Nesuai," he concluded, the smile, weakened and diluted, but ultimately still there, spreading across his features. Petycon began to float forward, and it became at last apparent at how he was staying aloft: his feet were vague and formless due to their shifting back and forth between the shadows from the clouds above and the atmosphere itself. He was using Sombra-Alabea to literally walk on darkness.
"You dream, Shinkou Masaru? You lost the right to that when you became the Commander General, I think. Or at least, in this realm of light. The only manner in which someone could properly lead while ensuring their own visions comes to life is through a tyranny, like Lord Emptybones. You can only dream en la noche de eternidad," he finished maliciously.
"Maybe. It doesn't make a difference to me right now."
The Commander flashed directly towards Petycon, Tasukeru held behind the back of his skull in the obvious precursor to a straight cut downwards. The Espada chuckled at the starkness with which Masaru charged.
Oh my...so desperate, aren't you? If you are frantic enough to blindingly rush head on into me, I'll punish you by ending this fight right here.
The vortexes of shadow bellowed as Petycon launched unswervingly at Masaru, tearing in a rabid succession of brutal strikes designed to deliver a mortal blow if the Shintsuuro attempted to evade to the sides. The moment Masaru made the one hundred percent certain evasion to avoid the onslaught from the Arrancar, he would be running into steel that would rip apart the thread of life that bound him to this world.
This petty presumption was why Petycon was stunned when Masaru never wavered in his path to the hybrid's very exposed torso, cleaving the humming Tasukeru across the Shinigaminized Hollow's chest and the hole that had replaced his heart.
...what?! He...he never intended to dodge?! He really was just going to charge so stupidly like that?!
Petycon let out a cry of vexation when the realization struck home, and his outburst was quieted when Masaru tore through the cord of Sombra-Alabea and caught Nesuai's unmoving form within his arms.
He turned to watch on as the Commander General somersaulted in triumph with his most beloved cargo, landing on the ground far below with such force that the already destroyed tiling was hurled high above the moment his feet made contact, his knees screeching in agony as they braced against the impact.
The Shintsuuro didn't even feel it: his face spoke of only euphoria as he nuzzled his cheek to hers, caressing her gorgeous body with an adoring rubbing along her arms.
"Here...I got you now," he continued to whisper as he clenched her tightly to his heart, never intending to let go in this life or the next.
Still using his tail to keep him among the clouds, Emptybones' choir of voices growled in disapproval at the scene of victory, a bitter frown spread across his features.
"You lost the girl, even with her in your possession? This makes things difficult again Petycon...with her back, Shinkou will be revitalized. I'm disappointed in you, my number one Espada," scowled the chorus, and Petycon did not lift his head to acknowledge what his "master" had said, but simply kept it hung to where its features were darkened.
"...la beatitud mÁƒ¡s grande quebrantada por la desesperaciÁƒ ³n mÁƒ¡s grande..." were the words that Emptybones caught in reply, carried by the wind.
Back on the obliterated, white plaza floor, Masaru continued to press his head to hers.
"Ahhh...I got you back...I didn't fail this time. Emptybones and Petycon...they can't stop me from saving you," he said strongly, and paused, as if to await a reply from her. The break was short lived, however, for he quickly resumed his monologue with an unnatural hastiness.
"All thanks to you...I'm able to fight those two. I needed you...you made me stand back up, when I was content to lay down forever."
His hands, tightly clasped around her silent form, sunk deeper into her soft skin so that the impressments stretched the areas of loose clothing around his fingers.
"And you know when you first started to do that? That day when you told me I had the right to be happy. Even after you found out what I had done to my sister..."
His voice wavered in its strength as he paused again, this interval being longer and more painful. The gap was broken, however, as he ploughed on, beginning to gain a hoarse rhapsody that contained compulsory enthusiasm.
"...even after you found out that I had been such a coward as to take my own sister, dear Konai's life, you told me I had the right to be happy! The stupidity...the naivety of it was heart-warming, but it was what I needed."
His hands, still pressing against her, began to shake with frailty.
"And then when you got taken from me, and told me to put others before myself, I did that. All this time while you were gone, I did that. I kept in mind what you told me about dreaming...but I dreamed anyway. I was always dreaming of having you back...of keeping you at my side..."
Far above, Petycon's lips curled in a smile as his cheeks scrunched in an effort to hold back his ecstasy.
"...maybe having a kid or two..."
Quiet in an excruciatingly agonizing silence. He spoke again, though his voice now shook with the same fragility as his hands.
"...growing old, even though we don't really grow old here in Soul Society...so just living old..."
His vision began to blur as all lines melted away at themselves, and the world peeled away into shapeless melancholy.
"...living old and together...the same way you wanted to live too..."
A flicker of dark blue flame from Tasukeru's idle form illuminated him and her momentarily as the first tear dripped from his wet chin to mingle with the drying red that still remained on her cheek.
"...because you wanted to live with me too..."
Petycon's eyes lit with a cruel jubilation as he lost his composure.
"...wasn't..."
"...because you loved me..."
"...wasn't...from..."
"...and I loved you..."
"...wasn't....from...beginning..."
"...and...dear God...Nesuai, I am so sorry..."
Petycon broke out into one wild, elated shriek.
"SHE WASN'T ALIVE FROM THE BEGINNING, SHINKOU MASARU!!"
Masaru let out a defeated sob of tribulation as he dropped Nesuai's lifeless body and crumpled over her corpse, weeping into the cold bosom of the woman he had failed to save, even after receiving his second chance.
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