TtF, Chapter 6
See? I'm still alive :P Anyway, this is the latest chapter of Toward the Future, long enough in coming. I've been caught up in RL, though, so don't hold it against me, okay? :)
You probably won't see much more until November, just because I'm going to be saving up for NaNoWriMo. I'm jotting down sketches of things I want to write and do, so that way I won't run dry... hopefully **glares at muse** It will cooperate!
Chapter Six: Shopping II
Notes/Warnings: The inherent insanity that comes with Hiyori and Shinji (of course). Nothing spoiler-y, as usual, save the normal “After the TBTP Arc” as usual. Also, Kensei tends to swear quite a bit, hence the PG-13 rating. This one is a tad longer than usual, so hopefully that makes up for my absence :)
Disclaimer: As the ancient gods once said, “Own not, and thou shalt claim not. Go forth and own your own junk.”
~*~
To be perfectly honest, Kensei has no clue how the hell he got here. He had been looking forward to a nice, relaxing day at the base, and yet here he stands, surrounded by brightly colored clothes and a happily squealing Mashiro, and there is no escape in sight.
It’s exactly like a nightmare he’s had before.
There is no way for him to slip off like that bastard Rose did; no, Shihōin is always there to prevent any escape attempts. It’s like she has some sort of freaky seventh sense or whatever to help her see whenever someone is trying to pull something off, otherwise how would she know to appear every single time?
Mashiro twirls by happily, dumping another several items onto the growing pile in his arms. He snarls, and wonders again how he got stuck with being the pack mule. He’s already grabbed a couple of shirts and pants for himself, but Kuna keeps piling more and more on him, most of it brightly colored enough to make him twitch. Why the hell does she think she needs this many clothes? It’s not like they go out all that much, anyway.
Irritated, Kensei finally storms over to Shihōin, thrusting the pile of clothes at her. Predictably, she flits away before he can put them all the way into her arms, and he can feel that vein twitching in his temple.
“I’m leaving,” he snaps to her, only to find her in front of him-again. He tries to push past her, but she blocks him every single time, and he curses.
“You’re staying here,” Yoruichi said coolly, and he rolls his eyes at her. “Rose and Risa have already wandered off… we’re not chasing after all of you, you know.”
He can only stand there and fume, however, as the Shihōin princess flits away again, leaving him to pick up the mess he’s made on the floor.
~*~
It’s only a few minutes later that screaming breaks out from across the store, drawing their attention almost immediately. Kensei catches himself reaching for a zanpakutō that is not at his side at the moment, stopping himself in irritation once he realizes how pointless the movement is. He can already hear the yelling, however, and sighs before striding to the source of the disruption.
As annoying as Mashiro is, Kensei can only be eternally grateful that he didn’t have either Hirako or Sarugaki in his Division back in Soul Society; both of them are childish enough to make people stare at the odd blond man, who is taunting a small girl childishly; currently, Shinji has his tongue stuck out with eyes crossed, and is too busy dodging Hiyori’s retaliatory blows to notice the alarmed squeals of those around them. She’s swinging a heavy boot she found somewhere, and he can’t help but think that it’s a relief to see her attacking him like this; it’s been a while.
A woman shrieks loudly as Hiyori’s swing goes wild, knocking over a display of fabric bolts. Behind him, Yoruichi finally appears, shoving past him as she watches the chaos unfolding before them.
Kensei only sneers at the fleeing humans; as if Hiyori or Shinji would hurt innocent civilians. The very thought is laughable, considering that for so very long, their sworn duty has been to protect humans…
That stray thought, however, is enough to give him serious pause. Are they still sworn to those vows? They are no longer shinigami, and yet not Hollows-so where does this leave them?
The thought is chilling; he knows that Shinji and Hiyori both are the most bitter about what has happened, Shinji perhaps moreso than everyone else. Would that be enough to undermine his convictions, to turn him against everything they’ve ever believed in?
Perhaps most tellingly, however, he realizes, is that he himself has no idea about his beliefs anymore.
~*~
“Ooooh, I like this one!” Mashiro announces proudly, twirling happily in her new outfit. She dances in front of the others, pouting when she doesn’t get a reaction from Kensei. Instead, she seems placated with a smile and nod from Love, and a shy compliment from Hachi. Everyone else seems satisfied with the clothes that the victims… hapless shoppers had acquired for them, which is a damn good thing, because Kensei has no desire to go back out again.
“What do you think about my shirt?” Hiyori asks loudly, and Love grunts an affirmation, nodding to her as well. Shinji makes the mistake of yawning at that particular moment, and even though he is clearly deep in conversation with Urahara, Hiyori pounces. “What’s that, Baldy? You got somethin’ to say?”
“Not to you,” he replies casually, without even thinking about it. This is his second mistake, and Mashiro gracefully dances out of the way of Hiyori’s wild lunge. She watches with wide eyes as Hiyori tackles Shinji, beginning an impromptu wrestling match on the ground-then turns to Kensei.
“Heyyyyyy, how come you never play with me like that?” She complains, lower lip jutting out in a pout. Kensei’s eyes widen incredulously, even as Mashiro flops to the ground, sulking. “I wanna play games, too! Kenseeeeeeei, you’re no fun!”
“They aren’t having fun, you idiot!” He snaps back, and from beside him, Rose shrugs contemplatively. The blond doesn’t even look like he’s paying attention, his nose raptly buried in a book, but he does glance up.
“They kind of look like they’re trying to kill each other, not playing,” he comments, and Love nods, looking vaguely exasperated.
“That’s not anything new,” he comments. He ignores Mashiro’s luminous eyes and quivering lips, instead pushing himself up from the ground. “Something tells me it’s time to leave.”
“Before we become part of the collateral damage, you mean?” Rose asks mock-loftily, sighing. “Good idea.”
The blond man rises, and Love pauses for a moment before following. As he does, there is a loud yelp from behind them, followed closely by a triumphant yell. Kensei turns back just in time to see Mashiro launching herself toward him in a tackle.
Somehow, he has the feeling that Hirako is the one to blame.
He moves aside at the last second, and despite himself is impressed with the development of the gigai he dons. They all wear their gigai ‘round the clock in order to avoid detection; even now, it is hard to prevent the random flares of reiatsu brought about by this strange power within them. Despite all this, however, Urahara knows his stuff-these gigais move well enough to almost seem as if they are not wearing, even while masking their reiatsu from any accidental observers.
On the other hand, it’s highly unprecedented that they should be able to manifest their zanpakutō while inside their gigai, and yet… it’s happened. It absurdly enough make Kensei feel safer somehow, even though this is supposed to be impossible. Learning to live like a human is annoying enough, without being able to properly defend himself. The ability to manifest his zanpakutō if need be makes it more tolerable.
Using Mashiro’s fit as the perfect time to escape, Kensei makes his way out of the room. Upstairs, he runs into Ushōda and gives him a curt nod. Before this whole thing, he’d never really seen the other man, much less talked to him; he supposes that people like Ukitake-taichou and other older captains would tell him that it’s good to form new bonds, no matter what the situation.
“Hello, Muguruma-san,” Ushōda greets cordially. “How was shopping this afternoon?”
“A pain in the ass,” Kensei replies frankly, scowling at the mere memory. “Wish I’d’a stayed here. What did you guys do?”
A shadow passes over Ushōda’s face, his faint smile fading.
“Urahara-san, Tsukabishi-san, and I continued our work on solutions,” he replies, round face slightly apologetic. “We’re no closer to reversing this, but… it seems that there might be a way to subjugate our Hollows.”
Kensei’s eyes widen, even as he asks, “Subjugate… You mean, like what we do in order to achieve bankai?”
“Exactly, Muguruma-san!” A cheerful voice exclaims, and he whirls. Urahara is grinning widely and leaning into Kensei’s space, causing the older man to scowl. “If these powers aren’t going away, it’s better to have them under your own control, is it not?”
“And what if I don’t want these damn powers?” Kensei asks dangerously. His fear at this development flows easily into anger-just as it always has, because showing fear is just something Muguruma Kensei doesn’t do-but unfortunately, the familiar emotion is tainted by that unfamiliar dark edge… one that is becoming familiar slowly but surely. He despises this dark, empty feeling at the edge of his thoughts, this faint echo of hungry hopelessness… he wants it gone.
“You may not have that option, Muguruma-san,” Ushōda replies, still apologetic despite the sharp awareness in his eyes. The gentle giant does not like this anymore than he does…
“It’s worth a try-” Urahara begins, and Kensei pins him with a sharp look.
“And then what?” He demands, frustrated. “Where does this leave us, then? As Hollows?”
“Actually, we hope that it will put the Hollow under your control,” Urahara replies evenly, his gleeful demeanor gone for the moment.
“You hope,” Kensei spits derisively. “That ain’t good enough for me here, Urahara. If that fails, what then? Where does that leave us?”
Urahara’s dark eyes meet his evenly, the sadness there suddenly making the man look far older than he should, but Kensei quashes the urge to back off before it can fully blossom. He has to know exactly what lies at stake here; one mistake now, and their escape from execution will have meant absolutely nothing, and that son of a bitch Aizen will have gotten away with this.
“If it fails, I won’t allow anyone else to get hurt,” Kisuke vows, voice low. “It will be my responsibility.”
Kensei relaxes at the words, however slightly it may actually reassure him. This strange new power residing within all of them has the ability to hurt so many people, to destroy so much… there’s no way that Kensei would take that chance, but with Urahara knowing exactly what he would have to do, it makes it a little easier to think about this.
Besides, even if Urahara were to fuck up, Shihōin is no push over; she would ensure that nothing happened. She had long since earned his respect, and was a force to be reckoned with-a reassurance in this circumstance.
“We’ll have to discuss it,” Kensei subsides, and Urahara nods. For now, however, he doesn’t really want to think about it, doesn’t want to discuss it further.
This, of course, has nothing to do with the fact that a group meeting would have to take place in the basement, where Mashiro’s reiatsu is still active and looking for a fight.
~*~
It’s a late night, full of discussion and arguing. Not everyone is comfortable with Urahara’s latest theory, but hell if anyone else can come up with a more viable solution, much to Kensei’s frustration. It bears some serious consideration, however, and it noticeably eases the tension in the house when they decide to think it over for a while before making any major decisions.
It’s been a long day, and Kensei is actually on his way up to his room when he’s accosted by a familiar presence-which, of course, is announced by a crashing weight against his back, and he growls as Mashiro jumps on his back like some deranged child.
“Get off,” he orders, but, as usual, she completely ignores him, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning forward to peer at him from the side. Despite his scowl, she is pouting curiously, tilting her head childishly.
“Are you going to bed already?” She asks, and he nods brusquely. “But it’s so early! Besides, you never even saw-”
“I’m tired,” he cuts her off impatiently, trying (and failing) to dislodge her. She jumps off of her own accord, however, strolling alongside him with her hands linked behind her back as he continues toward his room. When she doesn’t stop following him, he stops outside his door, looking at her pointedly. “What is it?”
It doesn’t really surprise him when her childish demeanor abruptly fades, instead leaving serious brown eyes to meet his, probing.
Despite what everyone thinks, it is possible for Kuna Mashiro to be serious-it’s just extremely rare. When she is serious, it’s usually far more intimidating than her tantrums and petty fits, and means that she’s deeply, deeply troubled and shaken. He’s only seen this side of her a few times, despite having been partnered with her for nearly three decades now.
“You don’t like it, do you, Kensei?” Kuna asks, looking faintly troubled. For all that she’s been the best at keeping her inner Hollow suppressed so far-Kensei is still surprised at this-he had almost expected this confrontation. There’s no need for her to elaborate on ‘it,’ however, not with the palpable tension in the air throughout the whole house. The idea of purposely bringing out their Hollows, one by one, and trying to force them under control, is unnerving for everyone. No one wants to face their inner demons on a good day, but to bring them out for everyone else to see…
“No,” he finally tells her frankly, frowning to himself. “We have to do something, though. Damn thing doesn’t shut up, and I’d love to get my hands on it.”
Indeed, the idea of possibly being able to physically silence the mocking voice has become tempting, even if the process is daunting and uncertain. On the other hand, screw the daunting process, it’s becoming worth the risk, especially since the Hollow is sneering once more.
Look, even your irritating retarded lieutenant is scared! The thing exclaims, lurking at the edges of his mind as it pushes, trying to gain a foothold. She’ll have to be put down first, you know, because she’ll be the first to give in, to fold and kill one of your so-called friends.
The hell she will! Kensei snaps back, then grits his teeth as he presses it back into the darkest corners of his mind. Focusing on Mashiro, he only shrugs, waiting for whatever it is that she came to say.
“I don’t like it either,” she tells him, glancing to the side before suddenly grinning and bouncing up on the balls of her feet. “Besides, you’re already mean enough! You never even asked to see what I bought!”
“I saw you modeling it downstairs already,” he growls, rolling his eyes. She has never seemed to understand that he doesn’t care for fashion shows whenever she brings something new home… not even when they were back home, in the Ninth.
“That doesn’t count,” she whines, and he turns to open his door, fully intending to shut her out. He’s drawn up short by a sudden feeling of something around his neck and shoulders, and instinctively whirls, scowling. Mashiro’s wrapped her neon pink scarf around his shoulders, but she’s already disappeared before he can shove it back in her face.
Yanking the soft monstrosity from around his neck before someone can see him, Kensei grumbles faintly about irresponsible, irritating lieutenants as he shuts the door. All he wants is a night of sleep, but even that’s looking doubtful now since his Hollow is slinking around at the edges, looking for the slightest gap…
This time, he can’t even blame the aggravation on Mashiro.
~*~
I’m still not sure I like that closing line… but I’ve been poking at this one for like a month now. Sorry the ending is so abrupt, you guys; I wanted to end it better, but I felt really bad for waiting so long to post this. As always, though, feedback is like chicken soup for the soul; also, I've heard that it wards off the swine flu XD
On the other hand, going in on Thursday for my second round of interviews, so wish me luck! I think I’m going to get the job, but I’m still really nervous :S
.
You probably won't see much more until November, just because I'm going to be saving up for NaNoWriMo. I'm jotting down sketches of things I want to write and do, so that way I won't run dry... hopefully **glares at muse** It will cooperate!
Chapter Six: Shopping II
Notes/Warnings: The inherent insanity that comes with Hiyori and Shinji (of course). Nothing spoiler-y, as usual, save the normal “After the TBTP Arc” as usual. Also, Kensei tends to swear quite a bit, hence the PG-13 rating. This one is a tad longer than usual, so hopefully that makes up for my absence :)
Disclaimer: As the ancient gods once said, “Own not, and thou shalt claim not. Go forth and own your own junk.”
~*~
To be perfectly honest, Kensei has no clue how the hell he got here. He had been looking forward to a nice, relaxing day at the base, and yet here he stands, surrounded by brightly colored clothes and a happily squealing Mashiro, and there is no escape in sight.
It’s exactly like a nightmare he’s had before.
There is no way for him to slip off like that bastard Rose did; no, Shihōin is always there to prevent any escape attempts. It’s like she has some sort of freaky seventh sense or whatever to help her see whenever someone is trying to pull something off, otherwise how would she know to appear every single time?
Mashiro twirls by happily, dumping another several items onto the growing pile in his arms. He snarls, and wonders again how he got stuck with being the pack mule. He’s already grabbed a couple of shirts and pants for himself, but Kuna keeps piling more and more on him, most of it brightly colored enough to make him twitch. Why the hell does she think she needs this many clothes? It’s not like they go out all that much, anyway.
Irritated, Kensei finally storms over to Shihōin, thrusting the pile of clothes at her. Predictably, she flits away before he can put them all the way into her arms, and he can feel that vein twitching in his temple.
“I’m leaving,” he snaps to her, only to find her in front of him-again. He tries to push past her, but she blocks him every single time, and he curses.
“You’re staying here,” Yoruichi said coolly, and he rolls his eyes at her. “Rose and Risa have already wandered off… we’re not chasing after all of you, you know.”
He can only stand there and fume, however, as the Shihōin princess flits away again, leaving him to pick up the mess he’s made on the floor.
~*~
It’s only a few minutes later that screaming breaks out from across the store, drawing their attention almost immediately. Kensei catches himself reaching for a zanpakutō that is not at his side at the moment, stopping himself in irritation once he realizes how pointless the movement is. He can already hear the yelling, however, and sighs before striding to the source of the disruption.
As annoying as Mashiro is, Kensei can only be eternally grateful that he didn’t have either Hirako or Sarugaki in his Division back in Soul Society; both of them are childish enough to make people stare at the odd blond man, who is taunting a small girl childishly; currently, Shinji has his tongue stuck out with eyes crossed, and is too busy dodging Hiyori’s retaliatory blows to notice the alarmed squeals of those around them. She’s swinging a heavy boot she found somewhere, and he can’t help but think that it’s a relief to see her attacking him like this; it’s been a while.
A woman shrieks loudly as Hiyori’s swing goes wild, knocking over a display of fabric bolts. Behind him, Yoruichi finally appears, shoving past him as she watches the chaos unfolding before them.
Kensei only sneers at the fleeing humans; as if Hiyori or Shinji would hurt innocent civilians. The very thought is laughable, considering that for so very long, their sworn duty has been to protect humans…
That stray thought, however, is enough to give him serious pause. Are they still sworn to those vows? They are no longer shinigami, and yet not Hollows-so where does this leave them?
The thought is chilling; he knows that Shinji and Hiyori both are the most bitter about what has happened, Shinji perhaps moreso than everyone else. Would that be enough to undermine his convictions, to turn him against everything they’ve ever believed in?
Perhaps most tellingly, however, he realizes, is that he himself has no idea about his beliefs anymore.
~*~
“Ooooh, I like this one!” Mashiro announces proudly, twirling happily in her new outfit. She dances in front of the others, pouting when she doesn’t get a reaction from Kensei. Instead, she seems placated with a smile and nod from Love, and a shy compliment from Hachi. Everyone else seems satisfied with the clothes that the victims… hapless shoppers had acquired for them, which is a damn good thing, because Kensei has no desire to go back out again.
“What do you think about my shirt?” Hiyori asks loudly, and Love grunts an affirmation, nodding to her as well. Shinji makes the mistake of yawning at that particular moment, and even though he is clearly deep in conversation with Urahara, Hiyori pounces. “What’s that, Baldy? You got somethin’ to say?”
“Not to you,” he replies casually, without even thinking about it. This is his second mistake, and Mashiro gracefully dances out of the way of Hiyori’s wild lunge. She watches with wide eyes as Hiyori tackles Shinji, beginning an impromptu wrestling match on the ground-then turns to Kensei.
“Heyyyyyy, how come you never play with me like that?” She complains, lower lip jutting out in a pout. Kensei’s eyes widen incredulously, even as Mashiro flops to the ground, sulking. “I wanna play games, too! Kenseeeeeeei, you’re no fun!”
“They aren’t having fun, you idiot!” He snaps back, and from beside him, Rose shrugs contemplatively. The blond doesn’t even look like he’s paying attention, his nose raptly buried in a book, but he does glance up.
“They kind of look like they’re trying to kill each other, not playing,” he comments, and Love nods, looking vaguely exasperated.
“That’s not anything new,” he comments. He ignores Mashiro’s luminous eyes and quivering lips, instead pushing himself up from the ground. “Something tells me it’s time to leave.”
“Before we become part of the collateral damage, you mean?” Rose asks mock-loftily, sighing. “Good idea.”
The blond man rises, and Love pauses for a moment before following. As he does, there is a loud yelp from behind them, followed closely by a triumphant yell. Kensei turns back just in time to see Mashiro launching herself toward him in a tackle.
Somehow, he has the feeling that Hirako is the one to blame.
He moves aside at the last second, and despite himself is impressed with the development of the gigai he dons. They all wear their gigai ‘round the clock in order to avoid detection; even now, it is hard to prevent the random flares of reiatsu brought about by this strange power within them. Despite all this, however, Urahara knows his stuff-these gigais move well enough to almost seem as if they are not wearing, even while masking their reiatsu from any accidental observers.
On the other hand, it’s highly unprecedented that they should be able to manifest their zanpakutō while inside their gigai, and yet… it’s happened. It absurdly enough make Kensei feel safer somehow, even though this is supposed to be impossible. Learning to live like a human is annoying enough, without being able to properly defend himself. The ability to manifest his zanpakutō if need be makes it more tolerable.
Using Mashiro’s fit as the perfect time to escape, Kensei makes his way out of the room. Upstairs, he runs into Ushōda and gives him a curt nod. Before this whole thing, he’d never really seen the other man, much less talked to him; he supposes that people like Ukitake-taichou and other older captains would tell him that it’s good to form new bonds, no matter what the situation.
“Hello, Muguruma-san,” Ushōda greets cordially. “How was shopping this afternoon?”
“A pain in the ass,” Kensei replies frankly, scowling at the mere memory. “Wish I’d’a stayed here. What did you guys do?”
A shadow passes over Ushōda’s face, his faint smile fading.
“Urahara-san, Tsukabishi-san, and I continued our work on solutions,” he replies, round face slightly apologetic. “We’re no closer to reversing this, but… it seems that there might be a way to subjugate our Hollows.”
Kensei’s eyes widen, even as he asks, “Subjugate… You mean, like what we do in order to achieve bankai?”
“Exactly, Muguruma-san!” A cheerful voice exclaims, and he whirls. Urahara is grinning widely and leaning into Kensei’s space, causing the older man to scowl. “If these powers aren’t going away, it’s better to have them under your own control, is it not?”
“And what if I don’t want these damn powers?” Kensei asks dangerously. His fear at this development flows easily into anger-just as it always has, because showing fear is just something Muguruma Kensei doesn’t do-but unfortunately, the familiar emotion is tainted by that unfamiliar dark edge… one that is becoming familiar slowly but surely. He despises this dark, empty feeling at the edge of his thoughts, this faint echo of hungry hopelessness… he wants it gone.
“You may not have that option, Muguruma-san,” Ushōda replies, still apologetic despite the sharp awareness in his eyes. The gentle giant does not like this anymore than he does…
“It’s worth a try-” Urahara begins, and Kensei pins him with a sharp look.
“And then what?” He demands, frustrated. “Where does this leave us, then? As Hollows?”
“Actually, we hope that it will put the Hollow under your control,” Urahara replies evenly, his gleeful demeanor gone for the moment.
“You hope,” Kensei spits derisively. “That ain’t good enough for me here, Urahara. If that fails, what then? Where does that leave us?”
Urahara’s dark eyes meet his evenly, the sadness there suddenly making the man look far older than he should, but Kensei quashes the urge to back off before it can fully blossom. He has to know exactly what lies at stake here; one mistake now, and their escape from execution will have meant absolutely nothing, and that son of a bitch Aizen will have gotten away with this.
“If it fails, I won’t allow anyone else to get hurt,” Kisuke vows, voice low. “It will be my responsibility.”
Kensei relaxes at the words, however slightly it may actually reassure him. This strange new power residing within all of them has the ability to hurt so many people, to destroy so much… there’s no way that Kensei would take that chance, but with Urahara knowing exactly what he would have to do, it makes it a little easier to think about this.
Besides, even if Urahara were to fuck up, Shihōin is no push over; she would ensure that nothing happened. She had long since earned his respect, and was a force to be reckoned with-a reassurance in this circumstance.
“We’ll have to discuss it,” Kensei subsides, and Urahara nods. For now, however, he doesn’t really want to think about it, doesn’t want to discuss it further.
This, of course, has nothing to do with the fact that a group meeting would have to take place in the basement, where Mashiro’s reiatsu is still active and looking for a fight.
~*~
It’s a late night, full of discussion and arguing. Not everyone is comfortable with Urahara’s latest theory, but hell if anyone else can come up with a more viable solution, much to Kensei’s frustration. It bears some serious consideration, however, and it noticeably eases the tension in the house when they decide to think it over for a while before making any major decisions.
It’s been a long day, and Kensei is actually on his way up to his room when he’s accosted by a familiar presence-which, of course, is announced by a crashing weight against his back, and he growls as Mashiro jumps on his back like some deranged child.
“Get off,” he orders, but, as usual, she completely ignores him, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning forward to peer at him from the side. Despite his scowl, she is pouting curiously, tilting her head childishly.
“Are you going to bed already?” She asks, and he nods brusquely. “But it’s so early! Besides, you never even saw-”
“I’m tired,” he cuts her off impatiently, trying (and failing) to dislodge her. She jumps off of her own accord, however, strolling alongside him with her hands linked behind her back as he continues toward his room. When she doesn’t stop following him, he stops outside his door, looking at her pointedly. “What is it?”
It doesn’t really surprise him when her childish demeanor abruptly fades, instead leaving serious brown eyes to meet his, probing.
Despite what everyone thinks, it is possible for Kuna Mashiro to be serious-it’s just extremely rare. When she is serious, it’s usually far more intimidating than her tantrums and petty fits, and means that she’s deeply, deeply troubled and shaken. He’s only seen this side of her a few times, despite having been partnered with her for nearly three decades now.
“You don’t like it, do you, Kensei?” Kuna asks, looking faintly troubled. For all that she’s been the best at keeping her inner Hollow suppressed so far-Kensei is still surprised at this-he had almost expected this confrontation. There’s no need for her to elaborate on ‘it,’ however, not with the palpable tension in the air throughout the whole house. The idea of purposely bringing out their Hollows, one by one, and trying to force them under control, is unnerving for everyone. No one wants to face their inner demons on a good day, but to bring them out for everyone else to see…
“No,” he finally tells her frankly, frowning to himself. “We have to do something, though. Damn thing doesn’t shut up, and I’d love to get my hands on it.”
Indeed, the idea of possibly being able to physically silence the mocking voice has become tempting, even if the process is daunting and uncertain. On the other hand, screw the daunting process, it’s becoming worth the risk, especially since the Hollow is sneering once more.
Look, even your irritating retarded lieutenant is scared! The thing exclaims, lurking at the edges of his mind as it pushes, trying to gain a foothold. She’ll have to be put down first, you know, because she’ll be the first to give in, to fold and kill one of your so-called friends.
The hell she will! Kensei snaps back, then grits his teeth as he presses it back into the darkest corners of his mind. Focusing on Mashiro, he only shrugs, waiting for whatever it is that she came to say.
“I don’t like it either,” she tells him, glancing to the side before suddenly grinning and bouncing up on the balls of her feet. “Besides, you’re already mean enough! You never even asked to see what I bought!”
“I saw you modeling it downstairs already,” he growls, rolling his eyes. She has never seemed to understand that he doesn’t care for fashion shows whenever she brings something new home… not even when they were back home, in the Ninth.
“That doesn’t count,” she whines, and he turns to open his door, fully intending to shut her out. He’s drawn up short by a sudden feeling of something around his neck and shoulders, and instinctively whirls, scowling. Mashiro’s wrapped her neon pink scarf around his shoulders, but she’s already disappeared before he can shove it back in her face.
Yanking the soft monstrosity from around his neck before someone can see him, Kensei grumbles faintly about irresponsible, irritating lieutenants as he shuts the door. All he wants is a night of sleep, but even that’s looking doubtful now since his Hollow is slinking around at the edges, looking for the slightest gap…
This time, he can’t even blame the aggravation on Mashiro.
~*~
I’m still not sure I like that closing line… but I’ve been poking at this one for like a month now. Sorry the ending is so abrupt, you guys; I wanted to end it better, but I felt really bad for waiting so long to post this. As always, though, feedback is like chicken soup for the soul; also, I've heard that it wards off the swine flu XD
On the other hand, going in on Thursday for my second round of interviews, so wish me luck! I think I’m going to get the job, but I’m still really nervous :S
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