It was like being a yoyo, really, being yanked up and down and back up without warning. Waking up to find Zabimaru at his side, then waking up again to find the zanpakuto gone, but then Kairi and Sora, and...
Therapy. Renji clenched his jaw, teeth grinding at the mention of that, except then the bastard on the intercom immediately followed it by saying that it wouldn't be today. That did little to help the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Not much he could do about it, other than be as ready as he could be the next day.
He followed the nurse to the sunroom and moved off to where he could sit by himself for at least a few minutes. He needed to just take a few breaths and find some balance point, figure out what the next step would be.
Renji had let his head fall back, arm over his eyes as he tried to just think. Which was harder than it sounded, over the feel of his soul bleeding away from the wound Zabimaru's absence left. He felt rather than saw someone sit next to him and looked up. It wasn't someone he recognized, but that wasn't saying much. There were so many new faces around now.
He almost wanted to tell the guy to fuck off and find another place to sit, but he didn't look like he was feeling quite right. That was something Renji could sympathize with. As much he sympathized with any guy dumb enough to sit next to the ugly, scary fucker with the tattoos who plainly wanted to be left alone. "You need something?" he asked after a long moment of just staring.
"I feel ya, man," Renji said. He laughed. "They manage just fine because they have no idea what they're missing. But I'll let you in on a secret. It's nothing at all like being dead." He let his head fall back again. "Tea would be awesome. Oh well, let me know if there's actually anything I could help with."
"If your soul didn't go somewhere else and stay put there, you weren't really dead. Dead-dead, I guess," Renji said, snorting. "And I am. I'm a shinigami. Which also means I'm technically dead as well, but not like how must other people are dead."
Renji wasn't quite sure what to make of a lot of that. Because yeah, being dead was pretty inconvenient for most people, and also meant that something had probably gone really wrong. "Weird. That mean you're one of those robot things?" He'd read stories about them, and it seemed like a weird concept, but an interesting one.
He snorted. "I was Japanese when I was alive. Any more, if I'm from anywhere it's Soul Society." Though the way the guy had said that statement was kind of weird, just the wording of it.
"Okay, well, if you're alive you've got a spirit of some sort," Renji said. "Everything's got one." He remembered having a discussion like that with Qui-gon Jinn. It had been interesting, to think that everything had a little bit of reiatsu, but he could believe that.
He nodded. "Never been there but I hear it's interesting. I've read a bunch of books English people wrote."
Renji was curious enough now that he wanted to actually take a look at the guy's soul. He raised his head again and squinted at the man, frowning.
It didn't work. He couldn't shift his vision that little step that made spirits come into focus as threads. He could generally sense that there was a spirit there, that it was strong, that there was something more than human going on with it, but that was all. He groaned and covered his face with his hands, leaning forward. "The fuck did they do to me while I was out?"
But it was even worse. If he couldn't see spirit threads any more, that meant knowing what the head doctor's spirit thread looked like was useless information now. He wouldn't be able to track him. "Fuck me. Fuck this place," he growled.
Renji shook his head and straightened up after a moment, resting his elbows on his knees. "When I first got here, I used to be able to see souls still. If I tried really hard. And what I can see, I can track." He shook his head. "I got... well I guess I didn't get killed since I'm back, but I got taken out by a bunch of nurses at night. Apparently that was several weeks ago. And now I can't see fuck all." He rubbed his forehead with one hand. "They must've done something to me. While I was out."
And that of course begged the question of what else they'd done to him while he was unconscious and helpless. It wasn't a thought he cared for.
Therapy. Renji clenched his jaw, teeth grinding at the mention of that, except then the bastard on the intercom immediately followed it by saying that it wouldn't be today. That did little to help the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Not much he could do about it, other than be as ready as he could be the next day.
He followed the nurse to the sunroom and moved off to where he could sit by himself for at least a few minutes. He needed to just take a few breaths and find some balance point, figure out what the next step would be.
[England!]
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He almost wanted to tell the guy to fuck off and find another place to sit, but he didn't look like he was feeling quite right. That was something Renji could sympathize with. As much he sympathized with any guy dumb enough to sit next to the ugly, scary fucker with the tattoos who plainly wanted to be left alone. "You need something?" he asked after a long moment of just staring.
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He snorted. "I was Japanese when I was alive. Any more, if I'm from anywhere it's Soul Society." Though the way the guy had said that statement was kind of weird, just the wording of it.
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He nodded. "Never been there but I hear it's interesting. I've read a bunch of books English people wrote."
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It didn't work. He couldn't shift his vision that little step that made spirits come into focus as threads. He could generally sense that there was a spirit there, that it was strong, that there was something more than human going on with it, but that was all. He groaned and covered his face with his hands, leaning forward. "The fuck did they do to me while I was out?"
But it was even worse. If he couldn't see spirit threads any more, that meant knowing what the head doctor's spirit thread looked like was useless information now. He wouldn't be able to track him. "Fuck me. Fuck this place," he growled.
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And that of course begged the question of what else they'd done to him while he was unconscious and helpless. It wasn't a thought he cared for.
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