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A drop of white fell against the darkness. Intertwining, collapsing, enveloping a toxic, delicate soul until it grew teeth. Existence, a thing that he dreaded, formed around his consciousness. It solidified, encasing him like a shell as he grew larger. Eyes, nose, mouth, blood, bone; all the signs of living. And yet, no matter how she painted it, he would never be alive.
Eyes opening in his new existence, White couldn't help but scowl. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He remembered the taste of her blood, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. "That damn Quincy," he muttered, his voice weak. His vocal cords were new, untrained. Her eyes, her confident stance, her inability to die. Her blood, her soul was his mortal opposite, tracing back to the beginning of existence, and yet…
And yet, here he sat, at her mercy. Their souls were now one, neither strong enough to truly outshine the other. The taste of Shinigami was not far off, lingering around him like a force field. Existence was bad enough, but an existence like this one was just… suicidal. He should be free to roam her body, to tear, to rip, to shred. Devour. That was his sole purpose since emerging from the sand and darkness.
And yet… what had he become?
"Well, look who's decided to show himself!"
Golden eyes shifting, White could see her clearly now. Her smile deeply irked him, that twinkle in her brown eyes just… His teeth began to grind, his jaw tensing. "I was hoping to see you again. You didn't seem like a passive tenant, after all." Her smile widened a bit, confident. "Mind telling me your name, Hollow?"
"Stay away from me, Quincy!" He spat the words out between pale lips, his naked body curled like a rabid dog backed into a corner. "I ain't yer tenant! Imma virus!" The words were worthless, gravelly and weak. He was so… so weak in here. It was almost hard to think. The world was poison, his skin burning.
Shrugging, she stopped a few feet away, sitting across from him. She tucked her feet under her, hands nested neatly in her lap. There was no sign of fear in her eyes. She looked almost… comfortable. "A virus, huh? How scary!" She laughed, eyes closing for a moment. "Well, maybe you already know, but my name is Masaki." She tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. "Masaki Kurosaki. Let's get along, shall we?"
Did this Quincy intend to mock him? He seethed, hackles raising. "I know who ya are, Quincy! And I ain't here to get along!" Attempting to stand, White's body shook, straining. Muscles tried to adjust, mustering the strength to move. I hate… existence. "Ya shouldn't even be alive, ya know. A Quincy like yerself." He stood over her now, his pale body a stark contrast against the darkness. "What business do ya have, keepin' me here? Ain't ya tasked with killin' all Hollows?"
Masaki was silent for a moment, her eyes drifting a way for a moment. He could see her brown eyes darken a bit, her thin hands rising to her chest. The Hollow hole may not be visible to the outside world, but here, in their shared existence, he could still see it. It was small, sitting at her collarbone, but it stuck out like a sore thumb against her pale skin.
"Perhaps it is." Her voice was gentle, her hand falling away and back to her lap. "To be honest, I'm not even sure if that's entirely true." Masaki laughed a bit, her head tilting downwards. "Maybe that makes me a terrible Quincy, after all."
White didn't know what to say, his eyes narrowing. What an annoyin' woman. Every Quincy knew their purpose, their primordial fear. It was in their blood, etched in their bones; Hollows were to die for the betterment of Quincy kind. Yet, she didn't look afraid. She spoke to him like he was another person. A pet. A friend. He scowled further.
Sighing, she stood up, taking another step forward. "It doesn't matter, either way. I can't kill you here. And you can't kill me." She pointed to the hole in her chest, smiling sheepishly. "We'd both lose in that case. And I don't particularly want to die just yet. I still have a lot to live for, you see."
"If that's true, then why'd ya save that Shinigami?" The bitterness in his voice grew deeper, taking a step towards her as well. He wanted to reach out, to crush her skull. To devour. His body yearned for her blood, the sweetness of her quivering organs and terrorized flesh. "Ya could've let him die and just walked away. Lived yer pathetic little life. And yet ya got in my way." Their faces were inches apart now, his face reflecting perfectly in her eyes. "What business does a Quincy got with a Shinigami?!" White's voice echoed in the void, his anger growing by the second.
"What has you so upset?"
"I ain't keen on sharin' space with a Quincy!"
"Well, I was never too excited about the thought of having a Hollow living inside of me, either." She extended her arms emphatically, turning in a circle as she walked away. "And yet, here you are." Masaki smirked, throwing her hands up in the air in mock surrender. "Looks like we'll just have to get used to this, won't we?"
"As if." White spat in disgust. "Once that Shinigami leaves ya, yer soul's mine." He forced a smile on his face, the muscles stiff. "And I'll savor every last bit of yer soul."
Snorting, Masaki turned away, her hand over her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. "Sorry to tell you, but I don't think Isshin's leaving anytime soon." She composed herself, hands folded neatly behind her back. "He's apparently sticking around for the foreseeable future."
"WHAT?!"
"Sorry to put a damper on your plans there, my friend."
"DON'T YA DARE CALL ME YER FRIEND!" White's body expanded, bony fragments morphing over his face. He could feel the mask creep over his skin, jagged teeth clacking as he spoke. "HOW DARE YA ADDRESS ME AS SUCH!"
Unfazed, Masaki raised an eyebrow. "Okay, well, what do you want me to call you, then?" She raised her hands again, trying to calm him. "And there's no need to yell in here. Please, don't strain yourself. You've barely adjusted to your own body it seems."
Feeling winded, White's body shrank back to its normal size. The bone fragments turned to dust, and he could taste iron on his tongue. The strain of this inner world on his existence was far more toxic than he realized. "My name is White," he replied, his voice quieter now, more subdued. "I ain't gonna be yer friend. Count on that."
"White." She smiled again, coming closer. "Huh."
"What?!"
"Nothing. Just kinda seems like… a plain name if you ask me." She chuckled. "I was expecting something more interesting. Seems like other Hollows have cool names, like 'Torino' or 'Snakes Nest'. I wasn't expecting something so on the nose."
He tried to stand up tall, tower over her, but could barely muster up the strength. "Don't make fun of my name, Quincy."
"Oh, I'm not. Just surprised is all." She turned away this time, walking into the darkness. "And call me Masaki."
"Where the hell are ya goin', Masaki?! I ain't done with ya yet!"
She stopped, turning halfway. "Sorry, White, but it's time for me to wake up." Lifting her hand, Masaki gave him a small wave. "I have school this morning. But I'll be by tonight, okay?" She began walking again, her body getting dimmer and dimmer. "We'll talk more then." And with that, she disappeared, leaving him to seethe in her wake.
Damn Quincy. His body shook, legs giving out as the muscles could no longer handle the strain. He was still too weak, his body unable to adjust to this world. I'll devour her soon enough. His head hit the ground, white hair sprawling around him. His vision began to blur, exhaustion overwhelming him.
I'll… I'll…
Something cold touched his body, startling him awake. White sat up right, his golden eyes scouring the darkness. Sleep still clung to his consciousness, but the sudden touch had… frightened him?
Him? Frightened?
The thought was ludicrous, but his body was on high alert nonetheless.
"Oops, sorry to startle you, White." Masaki's cheery voice seared through him like the bright morning sun, unwelcomed and unwarranted. "I was just… I don't know, concerned." He could make out her smiling face, her body hovering over him. "You've been out all day. So quiet."
Shuffling, White gathered himself, his body heavy as lead. "Weren't… ya just here, Quincy?" he muttered, rubbing his face. He glared at her between gnarled fingers, long hair drifting over his gaunt body. His shadows bore a bluish tint, contrasting with the bright, deep yellows of his eyes. "And don't touch me so casually. I'll rip yer arms off next time."
Masaki blinked, shocked. "B-but I've been gone for a full… twelve hours." She looked down at her wrist, staring at her watch. "I even took a detour to Kisuke Urahara's shop this evening!" She smiled her same, sheepish smile. "I stayed a bit too long if you ask Ryūken. He, uh, wasn't too pleased that I got back around 10." She rubbed the back of her neck, laughing nervously.
Is this girl stupid? White grimaced again, dark nails digging into his skin. He had to fight the urge to lash out. "I don't give a shit. Just leave me alone." His eyes burned as she glared at her.
She paused, confused. "You… were the one who didn't want me to leave this morning." Raising a finger, she tried her best to recreate his voice ''I ain't done with ya yet! That's what you said, right?"
"God, yer annoyin'!" He threw his hands in the air, teeth bared.
Laughing, Masaki reached behind her, pulling out two folded sets of white cloth. "You're not the first to say that, and you won't be the last, that's for sure." She patted the cloth, her eyes lilting gently. "I hear that plenty from the Ishida's." She cleared her throat, straightening her back and feigning a deep frown.
"Masaki! You cannot behave that way! You will bring disgrace upon the Quincy name!" Her voice took an exaggerated, dignified tone. She lifted her hand dramatically. "Masaki! That is unrefined behavior for am Echt Quincy! Think of your pride!" She leaned back, hand over her forehead. "Oh, Masaki! What will we ever do with you?!" Bursting out into laughter, she shook her head, leaning forward. "And of course, Ryūken will never let me leave his sight, especially not after last week's skirmish. But what can I do?" She shrugged, smiling. "I'm just one giant annoyance, right?"
White was dumbfounded, watching her. It was bad enough I got stuck with a damn Quincy, he thought, but to be stuck with a woman like this? I'd rather be dead, I think. He groaned, cracking his neck a bit. "Whatever. The hell do ya want, Quincy?"
"Masaki!"
"Doesn't matter! What do ya want?!"
Lifting the set of cloth from her lap, she handed them to him. "These are for you."
He stared at them in disdain. "The hell are they?"
"Clothes." She shrugged causally. "Didn't want you running naked around my inner world. Besides, I bet it gets cold in here."
Staring at them silently, White debated taking them for a moment. Then, after taking a moment to weight the pros and cons, he snatched them roughly out of her hands, his dark nails sinking into the fabric. "Fine."
"I hope you don't mind that they're just white." She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's what my mind thought of when trying to decide what to give you."
"Clothes are clothes," White grumbled, shoving his arms through the sleeves. "I don't give a shit what they look like." Standing up, he pulled the over his bare chest, trying to properly assemble his new robes. Black trim stuck out here and there, cutting through the white. They fit his body… perfectly. Soft, warm. It gave him pause, extending his limbs to admire the fit. It was as if they were tailor made.
"Wow! And here I was worried they'd make you look washed out!" Masaki clapped her hands excitedly. "You look great, White! Turn around, let me get a better look!"
"Don't go tellin' me what to do, Quincy!" He spat.
She rolled her eyes. "It's Masaki, White." She reached out, pressing her hands into his back gently. "And come on, I just want a quick look! Just give me a quick twirl now."
Unable to fight back much, White turned in a clumsy clockwise fashion, his arms extended half-heartedly, stiff. "Alright, quit touchin' me!" He grimaced with his head tilted to the side. "Ya happy now, Masaki?"
"Wow, with an imagination like mine, maybe I should actually get into sewing!" She giggled. "I'm sure Mrs. Ishida would approve of a hobby like that. Either way, I'm pretty proud!" It looked a bit like a Shinigami uniform, but if a Quincy were trying to recreate it from memory. The sleeves were form fitting, but at the waist, the fabric was flowy, brushing over billowy pants.
He waved at her dismissively. "Whatever. Ya can give me whatever ya want; I'm still gonna devour ya sooner or later."
"Sure, whatever you say," Masaki replied casually. "But, for now, I hope you make yourself comfortable. It looks like you're here for the long run, White."
Ignoring her, he turned away, staring out into the darkness. He could feel his body slowly, steadily adjust. This existence, this shell was starting to grow comfortable. White cursed himself, cursing himself to the very bone. An existence such as this… disgusting.
He remembered the first night he had heard her cry. The sound pricked his ears, turning his attention away from his thoughts. Turning his head, he could see Masaki curled up a little ways away. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, head buried in her arms as he body shook.
Standing up slowly, White walked towards her, his feet shuffling. Her guard's down, he thought, his tongue running over his teeth. The thought set his body ablaze. I could devour her in one fell swoop. Her flesh won't be too hard to tear from her bones. He could feel the saliva forming under his tongue. Golden eyes began to shimmer from intense hunger. Pathetic, weak Quincy…
Whimpering, Masaki lifted her head, her face red and wet. White stopped in his tracks, staring at her. Seeing her face gave him pause. Take her now, he thought, urging his body to move. TAKE HER NOW! But his body refused to budge. Instead, he watched her closely.
"How… did I…?" She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, the brown fabric wrinkled and stiff with salt. Masaki looked up, seeing White watching her silently. "H-hey, White." She sniffled, forcing a weak smile. "S-sorry, I, uh… must have fallen asleep while…" Clearing her throat, she stood up.
"The hell're ya cryin' for, Masaki?" White crossed his arms, his body half turned away. A weird feeling built in his chest, burning at the back of his throat. He'd never felt it before, but seeing her cry affected him more than he liked. He had noticed that her emotions affected his moods over time, sinking into his body with an iron grip. He hated it with a passion.
"Oh, uh…" She sniffled again, wiping her face furiously as tears continued to fall. "It's been a, uh… a hard day, you know." Her chuckles mingled with choked sobs. "Schools been busy, but… um."
"Just spit it out." His voice was rougher than intended, impatient. "What the hell's botherin' ya?"
Masaki went quiet, the thin veneer of cheer fading away entirely. She looked… smaller than he remembered. Younger, like a little child. There was no resemblance to that Quincy who blew his head off all those months ago. It threw him for a loop. Irritated him. Was irritated even the right word, he wondered?
"I went to visit my parents today." Her voice was fragile. Hollow. "It's the anniversary of their passing today. I… had to go with the Ishida's." Another tear trailed down her face, her arms crossed over her chest. "I wanted to go with Isshin, but they, uh, insisted that they be the ones to go with me."
Silence passed for a moment, White watching her with a mix of fascination and… something he couldn't quite pinpoint. His golden eyes peered out from behind pale lashes, dark sclera glistening.
"It was fine, I… I guess." Her lips warped a bit, her chest seizing up before she exhaled shakily. "But then… Mrs. Ishida said…" Another sob choked out, a hand covering her mouth. "She said I'm a disgrace to the Kurosaki name, consorting with a Shinigami like Isshin. That I'd make… my parents so disappointed." Her composure was starting to wane, tears flowing freely now.
"She sounds like a real bitch, if ya ask me." White scowled, teeth exposed. "Ya want me to do somethin' about her?"
Looking at him, Masaki stared for a moment before her sobs turned to weak laughter. "No, no!" She could barely breath, her body shaking. "Oh, god, no! But… thanks for the offer." She pushed her hair back and away from her face. Her cheeks glistened in the darkness, rivers of tears pushing through the dried salt. "I just… Why did she have to take this day, of all days, to say that? I mean, I don't get it." She rubbed her upper arms, sitting back down again. "I don't get why she has to press me so much over being an Echt, you know?"
White joined her, sitting a foot or two away. He rested his head in the palm of his hand, leaning to the right. Fascinatin'. Every movement, every change in expression; he watched it all with interest. So strong, but… somehow, she folds so damn easy over some stupid words. What the hell have I gotten myself into, huh? He sighed, letting her vent.
"It's always Echt this, Echt that. 'The Pride of the Quincy', or whatever." Masaki grew animated, her arms moving sporadically as she vented her frustration. "And I get it! We're basically going extinct! There's so few of us left! But…" Her voice trailed off for a moment. "Maybe… it's for the best that we just let our kind run its course? I mean, there's not much I can do about it. I'm not going to marry Ryūken. I don't want to just marry to carry on a bloodline, you know?" She looked at White, as if trying to get some sort of answer. "But the worst part is that she had to push this idea on the day… of my parents' death. As if I don't have anything else to worry about."
There it was. It startled White a bit, his head rising from his hand. A spark. A glint. His eyes fixated on hers, seeing the anger in her eyes. That familiar fire he had sensed before.
"My parents would have wanted me to live my life!" Her voice raised. "They never wanted me to become a means to an end, and I refuse to be! And to hell with the feud between the Shinigami and the Quincy! It was a pointless one anyways!" She stood up again, pacing back and forth, her arms flailing. "It's over and done with! And I… God dammit, I just want to BE WITH ISSHIN!"
Masaki's voice echoed for a while, ringing in White's ears. He stared at her, dumbfounded. Her presence was overwhelming, that familiar toxin of her spirit pressing into him once more. But he was too focused to care, too intrigued. So, she's not as much of a ditz as I thought. He smirked, standing as well. Guess that's a bit of a relief. "Yer tellin' me ya wanna be with that stupid Shinigami captain after all, huh?"
Freezing in place, Masaki's face went a deeper shade of red. Her sheepish smile returned, hands fidgeting. "H-huh, I said that out loud, didn't I?" She laughed now, her shoulders shaking. "Well, guess the cat's out of the bag."
She really is a fuckin' idiot. The corners of White's lips formed a smirk, his head shaking. A huge, dumb fuckin' idiot. Still can't believe I'm stuck with her.
"Thanks for listening, White." Her hand brushing over the small Hollow hole in her collar bone, Masaki smiled freely. Tears stopped falling, her eyes bloodshot now. "I… actually feel a lot better now. I didn't really mean to offload like that on you, but I'm gratefully you let me. Truly."
"Don't get used to it, Quincy." His expression soured, pointing at her defiantly. "We still ain't friends. And I'm still gonna devour ya!" But there was a different light in his eyes, a hint of emotion. Attachment. That's what it was.
"Of course, of course!" She waved him off, straightening herself out. Then, after a final sniff, she brightened a bit. "OH! I almost forgot! I have an idea for a new name for you!"
"OI! THE HELL ARE YA ON ABOUT?!"
"Aw, come on! It's a cool one! I came up with it just for you!" She paused, shrugging her shoulders. "Okay, well I maybe discussed it a little bit with Isshin a week ago. He said I shouldn't go giving you a name, but what does he know?" Masaki scoffed, a mischievous look in her eyes. "He doesn't have the fun of living with you, after all."
"FUN?! WHAT KINDA-?!"
"What do you think about Zangetsu?"
He paused, unsure what to say. Zangetsu… The name echoed in his mind, burning at the tip of his tongue.
Masaki bounced a bit, every sign of sadness from before almost fading completely. "Isn't it neat? I was talking to Isshin about the name of his zanpakuto, and I just thought it was so neat." She raised a finger, eyes closed. "Engetsu. Scathing Moon. So cool!" She opened her eyes again, her smile wide. "Quincy don't get to name their weapons cool names like that, and I just love how that sounds. Besides, you're just as pale as a full moon."
White seethed. "Ya can't just go givin' me a new name because it sounds cool, Masaki!" He raised his hands in the air, indignant. "Who the hell do ya think ya are?!"
"Aw, I thought you'd like it." She pouted playfully, swaying from side to side. "Slaying Moon is an awesome name! Besides, it fits you better than White, don't you think?"
"It's dumb!"
"Fine!"
A distant ringing could be heard, muffled in the darkness. Masaki turned her head, her shoulders sagging now. White knew the sound of her alarm clock by now, realizing their time was now over. Usually he'd feel relief, being alone again, but… A part of him already felt lonely.
"Ugh, time for school again already?" Masaki sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Well, guess I better get up." She met White's eyes one more time, smiling gently. "But, again, I want to thank you, White. Even if you think I'm still so annoying, you really helped me feel a little better." She turned, walking towards the darkness.
Hands on his hips, he watched her disappear, his grimace fading into a neutral frown.
Zangetsu… Zangetsu…
Dodging with ease, White leapt through the air, aiming towards Masaki with terrifying speed. A feral grin on his face, he laughed wildly. "Ya think a hit like that'll get me, Quincy?" He taunted, his clawed hand reaching for her face. "Gotta be dreamin' to think I'd fall for that!"
Masaki vanished from her spot, coming up from behind. Bow at the ready, she drew back her arrow, eyeing the small of his back. She smirked, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, I knew that wouldn't hit. You're too fast for something like that!" She released, watching as he reached out to catch it in the palm of his hand, shattering on impact.
"Ya better aim like ya mean it!" Bone fragments crept over his face, his blue tongue extending from his mouth hungrily. "I ain't gonna take it easy on ya!" Blue light appeared between his black horns, a Cero forming and firing towards Masaki with white hot fury.
It couldn't have been more than a blur in his periphery. Cold hands tapped his shoulders playfully, startling him significantly. "Too slow, White." The Cero fizzled out, leaving White to look back, stunned. There she stood, waving her arms and giggling mischievously. His golden eyes burned as he stared in disbelief. "Your attacks are really amazing, I'll give you that. I think you've built an immunity to Heilig Pfiel, at least."
A crooked grin overtook his face as he towered over her. "Oh? Ya sayin' I'm more powerful than ya, Quincy?" He laughed, leaning forward a bit. "Givin' up already?"
Masaki laughed as well, holding her sides. "As if!" She held her head high, shoulders squared as she stared back at him. "While you may have gotten stronger, I've gotten faster. And it's all thanks-" she struck a pose, winking at him playfully "- to you, White!"
Dammit. White bit his tongue, feeling the corners of his mouth twist. So damn annoyin'. And here I was, thinkin' I'd made any progress. He shook his head, stalking away. "Don't go getting' a big head over it, kid," he growled. "Speed will only slow down the inevitable!"
"You're right!" Masaki's voice was as chipper as ever as she walked beside him. "But don't look so glum, White! I'm really proud of your progress!"
"Huh?"
"Well, I was worried that overtime your body would be poisoned by my soul." She shrugged deeply, her head leaning to the side. "Though, granted, I thought my soul would be gradually poisoned by yours, too. But, if anything, I think us being bonded has made us stronger!" Prancing, she jumped in front of him, hands on her hips. She postured proudly, smiling broadly. "We've shaped each other in ways that no one could imagine! And Isshin kept trying to tell me it was a dumb idea to interact with you!" She laughed.
She really is an idiot. But he knew she was right. It had been over a year now since he'd fused with her body. By all accounts, he should've been weakened, broken down by the Quincy blood flowing through her. But he never felt… stronger. More alive. A question burned in his mind, growing as each second passed.
"Ya know… ya never answered my question, Masaki."
Masaki's laughter died, her eyes open and bright. "Oh?" She drew closer, pensive. "What question, White?"
"That day, why'd ya save that Shinigami captain?" His voice was calm, quiet. It was unusual. "Ya didn't know 'im at the time. Ya could've lived yer entire life as a normal Quincy. So why the hell did you interfere?"
Her smile faded, eye staring into his for a second before looking away. She began to walk away, irritating him. Does she think she can get out of answerin' by wakin' up already!? He wanted to reach and grab her, shake the truth out of her. But when she turned to face him, her expression was different. Serene, almost.
"I guess it was just… out of pure instinct."
It wasn't the answer he was expecting, his eyes narrowing. Instinct… Instinct was animalistic at best, a natural impulse that unconsciously overtakes an existence. This woman, how could she hold such instincts? She was the same woman who cried herself to sleep over the passive aggressive insults of her foster family, and yet…
The alarm clock was ringing in the distance. Morning had come.
Her face brightened. "Oh my gosh! Guess what, White!"
His face screwed up in disinterest. "What?"
"Today's the last day of high school!" She danced excitedly in the darkness, laughing. "Only a few more weeks until we move out of the Ishida house! Then it's off to university!"
White blinked, realizing just how much time he had spent with her here. Things were changing faster than he had realized. "Does that mean yer gonna move in with that stupid Shinigami captain?" He shuddered at the thought.
"Aw, come on!" She leaned forward, giving him a look. "He's not that stupid, White! Cut him some slack! He's actually really smart… sometimes." She giggled, blushing slightly. "I mean, granted, I have to teach him World of the Living mannerisms every now and again, but he does his best!"
"Ya never shut up 'bout him, now he's gonna be 'round a lot more often." He gagged, glaring at her. "My sufferin' continues."
Shaking her head, Masaki pranced off into the darkness. "You're so dramatic!" Her voice grew distant as she continued onward. "See ya later!"
The silence was overwhelming.
"Ughhhhh, White…" Masaki lay flat on her back, her long hair spreading out around her. "Today kicked my ass, I tell you." Dark circles formed under her brown eyes. "I'm so glad it's over."
"Why the hell do ya think I care?" White sat a few feet away, his legs loosely crossed and arms draped over casually. "Go complain to the Shinigami! I ain't yer therapist." He was in a foul mood, glaring out into the darkness.
"Bad day for you, too, huh?" Masaki sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs. She looked at him, concern in her eyes. "What's got you down, White?"
White gritted his teeth, trying his best to ignore her.
"Come on!" Her sing-song tone rang in his ears. "You can tell me! What's up?"
"It's so… borin' in here." His golden eyes burned into her as he seethed. "With ya off doin' shit at university, I ain't got nothin' to do. This place…" He gestured vaguely, his dark nails cutting through the nothingness. "It's just… god, why did I get stuck here?"
Even in her tired state, Masaki jumped up lightly, excited. "Oh! You make a good point! This place is pretty drab!" She looked around, thinking. "How should I change it, I wonder?"
"It's yer inner world, Quincy," he snapped. "Yer the only one who can control what it looks like."
She looked back at him, mulling over a million thoughts. "Well, if that's the case, I better get to work!"
Immediately, the air changed. The stagnant feeling vanished completely, replaced by… fresh air. White perked up, feeling the world around him start to morph. Darkness swirled, like ink mixing in with paint water. Grass appeared beneath his feet, a goldenrod sky overhead with orange wisps of clouds smattering across the surface. He stood up, realizing that he was now surrounded by a thick forest, a mix of gold, crimson and deep cinnamon. There was even a slight breeze, rustling through the leaves.
This… is her inner world? He was flabbergasted, turning to look at every new thing that appeared. It was almost overstimulating, going from complete darkness to so much color in such a short span of time.
"What do you think?!" Masaki ran into the clearing, stopping in front of him. She looked more awake now, refreshed. "My imagination really got away from me, but isn't it pretty? I mean, if I had known before that I could make my inner world look like this sooner, I would've done so in a heartbeat!" Her laughter was contagious. "So, you like it?"
"It's… fine." He couldn't stop looking at it, feeling the wind pick up at the ends of his white hair. "Better than complete darkness, I guess. Why'd ya pick this?"
She shrugged haphazardly, slapping her palms against her thighs as she admired her work. "I don't know. I guess… I just really love the Fall, you know?" Her smile became a bit distant, sad. "There's something… magical about fall, White. Something comforting, maybe." She turned to him, brown eyes alight. "Everything is in the process of dying in the Fall, and yet its so beautiful. As if defying its own destiny by going out in a blaze of colors. It's…" She trailed off, arms folded over her chest.
Another answer he wasn't quite expecting. He looked out at the brilliant, colorful spread of trees, the sunset filtering between the dancing leaves. "It beats a cold, white desert." He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but the words filtered out anyways.
"Is that what it's like where you're from, White?"
He didn't answer, vanishing and reappearing over the trees, staring down at this new world. Her eyes were still on him, he could feel it. The warmth of the sun soaked into his pale skin, reaching his icy bones. The barest of smiles formed on his grumpy face.
Guess I can get use to this.
White stared at her in disbelief, trying to make sense of what she had said. "Ya what?!" He nearly walked into a tree, too focused on the absurdity of it all.
"Don't give me that, White!" She laughed, amused by his dumbfounded expression. "You gave me the same look when I told you I was marrying Isshin!"
"Well, yeah! That was an absurd, dumbass idea!" He threw his hands up in the air, leaning forward at the waist as he tried his best to convey his frustration. "But yer tellin' me that yer fuckin' pregnant!? With his child!?"
Masaki gave him a sly look. "Of course, with Isshin's child. Who do you think I am?" She giggled, stopping near the edge of a cliff. The view was gorgeous, the sun illuminating them as they stared down over the autumnal forest. "And yes, I am pregnant. I figured I should tell you sooner rather than later." She sat on the edge, her legs dangling over the side. "It's… so exciting, isn't it?" Her face glowed, eyes sparkling.
"That ain't the word I'd use." He frowned, hunching down next to her. "Does that mean no sparrin' for a while?"
"Yeah, unfortunately." She looked at him, giving him an apologetic smile. "But I'll still come visit you so you won't get bored!"
White rolled his eyes. "What a damn relief," he said sarcastically.
"Oh, come on." She nudged him playfully with her elbow, her now long brown hair dragging along her back. "You know you love seeing me! And don't worry. The baby won't really bother you too much. Not till the last trimester, at least. But we also live with a doctor, so it should be all smooth from here!"
"That's right. Forgot the Shinigami went and became a doctor." He cursed himself for feeling a sense of relief. At least she'd be well taken care of. "That means yer gonna have some snot-nosed runt runnin' ya ragged soon, huh?" He grinned evilly. "Ya'll be too tired to fight me off when I finally come to devour ya at last." They both knew they were empty words, just an old habit of his.
"Yeah, right, White." She laughed. "If anything else, being a mom will make me even stronger!"
"In yer dreams, Quincy!"
Their laughter carried into the vast horizon.
Something shifted in the forest, a kind of disturbance White had never felt before. He turned his head, back arched. Something was there, a different presence than he'd ever felt before. "Who's there?!" he called out, stalking towards the forest, his head lowered, and horns exposed. "Show yerself!"
The air went cold, followed by a distant shriek of pain. It was Masaki's voice, carrying through the inner world like a warning cry. Everything shifted again, the ground beneath his feet shaking. This presence grew larger, growing closer. It was like her body was being torn apart.
The baby.
He could feel the world shift again, in and out. A heartbeat so loud he was afraid the sky would be torn asunder. "That child's doin' this already?!" White ran through the forest, trying to find the source. The shifts grew heavier, the world warping around him. He could feel his lungs burn in pain, his muscles screaming. He'd grown too attached to her body, responding to her own pain. "WHERE ARE YA, YA DAMN PARASITE?!"
The trees parted, the air far colder now. There, hovering above the ground, was something he hadn't expected to see. It was dark, shimmering above the grass like a black star. Red energy lapped at the dark surface, dancing in the air like a feral beast. There it was, growing and manifesting as Masaki's child threatened to enter the world. This was its soul.
"The hell…?" It was so unstable, unbearable to even comprehend. It was tearing into her world, threatening to wipe it from existence. He knew he had to do something if he wanted to keep her stable. "Fine, guess I gotta get involved after all." He growled, readying himself to attack. Chunks of earth were flying through the air, trees leaning away and toppling over as soul continued to manifest. "Sorry 'bout this, Masaki. But it's for the best."
White roared, Cero forming at the tip of his horns. Golden eyes burned as he bared his teeth. The blast would wreck a significant portion of her inner world, but she wouldn't die from it. She was too strong for that to happen.
From the darkness, an arm shot out, reaching for White at an alarming speed. He had no time to register what had happened, watching as it enveloped his body. The Cero fizzled out, imploding over head as his body was snatched and pulled away. A scream was lost in his throat, fear overtaking him. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!? MASAKI!
An eerie quiet filled his ears as he was pulled into the darkness, his body drifting deeper and deeper still…
Masaki…
Bright light seared his eyes, filling him with unbearable pain. White grimaced, sitting forward, rubbing his face. The air was cold here. Cold and dark. Blinking a few times, he stood up silently, wildly looking around. Where the hell am I? He could feel his mind race. Is… is the Quincy dead? Wait, if she were dead, I'd be dead too. So, what the hell happened?
An unintelligible noise filled the emptiness. White looked out in the darkness beyond, his body steeled and ready. "WHO'S THERE?!" he screamed, his frustration exploding out. "WHO ARE YA?!"
The silence was replaced by crying, the light above him cutting out completely. It was so loud, echoing endlessly. White covered his ears, rage filling his body. He couldn't feel Masaki's presence anymore, completely detached from her body. It was a swelling absence, a ravenous vacuum in his soul, growing as he realized too late that this wasn't what he wanted. He screamed as well, his voice mingling with the cries around him. The pain was too much.
"Ichi…Ichigo…"
He could hear her, his head lifting. He blinked, the light searing his eyes again. Her face wasn't far from his, sweat rolling down her tired face. Brown hair lay around her in a messy halo as he felt the warmth of her arms around him. "Ichigo, hey… don't cry!" She smiled, her eyes so tired. "Welcome to the world, Ichigo…"
Blinking again, White found himself floating in darkness, completely submerged. This new presence filled his lungs, piercing his skin, paralyzing him. He couldn't fight back, overpowered by it. This is her child. Realization filled his mind, golden eyes looking around. A woman like her, with instincts like hers, with a heart like hers… this is her child.
Light appeared, capturing his attention. Something small hovered there, tumbling in the darkness aimlessly. He made his way towards it, his pale hand stretching in the darkness, holding it close. The child was small, wriggling in his arms, blind and afraid. He could barely open his eyes, cold.
White wanted to be disgust, to destroy it. But he could feel her presence there, resting deep in the child. "Ichigo… Kurosaki." The name fell from his lips, almost reverently. "Yer gonna be a pain in my ass too, ain't ya?" He laughed a little, holding the small child out in front of him. "Ugh, whatever. I'll whip yer ass into shape, just ya wait, kid."
There was a shift in the darkness, like something crawling closer. White gripped the child, pulling him close. Something foreign had come entered the inner world, permeating throughout like a poison. White hissed, preparing to fight. He was surprised by the sheer presence of whatever had joined him here in the dark.
Like a drop of black permeating the whiteness. Intertwining, collapsing, enveloping a toxic, delicate soul until it grew eyes. Bright, blue eyes peered out, meeting White's eyes. Stoic. Unmoving. As if the heavens and the earth lived in the vastness of his gaze.
"Oi, just who the hell do ya think ya are, comin' in here like that?" White held Ichigo the side, leaving one hand free. "Get out before I scatter yer bones, old man!"
Brown hair drifted mesmerizingly in the darkness, blue eyes never looking away. "I am a part of this child, Hollow." He lifted a hand, reaching for Ichigo. "This child is of Quincy descent. You should not exist here. Begone, or I shall be the one to scatter your bones into the dark."
"I'm a part of him now, too, Old Man!" White puffed out his chest, his head cocking to the side. "I ain't goin' nowhere! And I certainly ain't afraid of no Quincy! Give it yer best shot!"
The Old Man's eyes narrowed. "Yes, you seem to be holding up well here, despite the obviously hazardous conditions. You are no normal Hollow."
"Damn straight!"
"Then who are you?"
He smirked, laughing at the sheer stupidity of it all. What a question to ask! There he was, this child of Masaki. He had her eyes, her stubbornness. But maybe he lacked her brain, after all. Asking where his zanpakuto was, as if he didn't have eyes. What a dumbass, he thought, crouching on the ledge of the skyscraper.
"Ya still haven't figured it out, have ya, King?"
The look of sheer confusion in Ichigo's eyes both enraged and amused him. Could he really be that hopeless? That Old Man certainly fooled him after all. He leapt in the air, sword raised and at the ready.
"I AM… ZANGETSU!"