A Long Absence
OC centric. Takes place before the Winter War as well as the Pendulum arc. OC's name is Hanzō Kasumi.
'Will be Kasumi's thoughts'
Will be her Zanpakuto (Komainu –twin lions)
'Will be her hollow'
Disclaimer- I don't own Bleach. However, I do own the various OCs I may put throughout the story.
PROLOGUE
Goodbyes
It was hot. Very hot. Scorching and humid. Her long, tussled mahogany hair stuck to her face and neck uncomfortably. The frayed bang that remained in the middle of her face was becoming especially annoying. Her white tank top clung, like a second skin, to her body. She really shouldn't be outside lest she melt and become one with the filthy, flat stone roof she was currently occupying. But Moura was having one of those days where he felt like everyone needed an earful of that charming American music he adored so much. Not that Hanzō Kasumi minded. On the contrary, she rather liked Patsy Cline. The classic singer's English words were but a jumbled mess that made little sense to Kasumi but the music and the emotion behind said words were beautiful nonetheless. However, at the moment, some sort of 'heavy metal' was blaring all throughout the walls of the abandoned apartment building that she had most unfortunately called home the past century or so and she was trying desperately to meditate. It wasn't working.
She heard footsteps behind her but didn't need to turn to know that it was Shiro, a fellow Soul Society exile. Though he was banished before she had the kind of clearance to know why.
He never spoke of the reason he was cast from their old home but Kasumi had a feeling that the reasons were more than likely unjust. As was many cases with the Central 46. Shiro was bitter about all Soul Reapers. He absolutely loathed Central 46. But he was kind and strove to help others. She almost hated Soul Society even more for kicking him out but she had come to realize it was their loss. He was talented. Skilled beyond what she could have imagined for a common Soul Reaper. She sometimes wished she knew his last name...if his first one was even his true one maybe she could gather some info on him to quench her own curiosity. He would never say if he had a seated position or even what squad he was on but she had a feeling he was at the very least a lieutenant. He made for a formidable sparring partner. That was certain. Which was good because the only other former shinigami she could train with was Moura and he was…well lazy. Even more so than herself. Humanity was rubbing off on that one. Lazy and vain. But good for entertainment purposes. If Kasumi knew nothing about Shiro then she knew even less about Moura. But that came with the title of 'rogue shinigami'. Secrecy. Mystery. And to be honest, Kasumi really didn't care to know. If she thought about it, she would guess that Moura, being Moura had probably just wandered too far from home and lost his way. Literally. But curiosity such a tiring emotional behavior. She had shelter and food. She was content. So long as she stayed hidden.
The seemingly young woman stared at her feet as they swung slightly, her white flip flops dangling from her toes above the seven floor drop. Her companion hadn't spoken to her yet and so her thoughts drifted to a century ago.
Kasumi was a Vizored, a victim of a brutal experiment preformed one night, long ago in the Soul Society by one, Sosuke Aizen. It had been over a hundred years since she and the others had escaped certain death. Yes, certain death. An order from Central 46. They were never known for their mercy. Laws were laws and if broken in any way, there would be punishment. No excuses. There was a trial and there was a judge...the problem was, there was only one sentence. To the Chamber and anyone else who were to discover their conditions, the nine former high ranking Soul Reapers had become abominations. Reduced to mere hollows and hollows were to be destroyed.
Fortunately for them, they still had allies. Soul Reapers that knew what had happened and those few people were willing to give up everything to keep the nine convicted alive. Resulting in what Kasumi liked to think of as 'The Great Escape'. For which she would always be thankful towards Shihouin Yoruichi, Urahara Kisuke and Tsukabishi Tessai.
Chuckling broke her thoughts. She cracked open a light amber, almost orange eye. Shiro was sitting a foot to her right. Legs hanging off the edge of the roof. His shaggy, spiky all around mess of onyx hair blowing in the hot hell fire wind humans sometimes refer to as a breeze. His dark hazel eyes regarded her curiously. In his grasp was a small bottle of sake. She could go for some of that right about now but trying to pry it from Shiro would require more exertion than she was willing to give up at that moment.
"Trying to meditate?" Shiro asked, "I don't see how with all this racket."
Kasumi adjusted the dark orange baseball cap she usually wore, tipping the rim down further over her eyes in a meager attempt to block the persistent rays while she sighed long and loud. It was an old habit she immediately picked back up a few weeks ago when Isshin contacted her about Aizen. He had finally made his move. Her old friend had asked her to come back, to fight in a war that could mean the end of Soul Society and the Living World if Aizen won. They needed every helping hand they could find. Kasumi though, couldn't summon the motivation to take action. She'd even told Isshin that she hardly remembered why she should be so upset. That was a lie though. Being reminded was an everyday occurrence for her. She just didn't want to be bothered with the trouble that returning to them would bring. She had abandoned them after all. Every one of them. It was like a huge slap in the face to the ones who rescued them all, leaving like that without so much as a goodbye. Isshin was the only one who knew where she was and she liked it that way. It was exhausting though, being hunted by everyone or maybe no one hunted her. The paranoia was constant for someone like her; someone on the run. It was irritating knowing that all the taken precautions could just be for not because it was very likely that no one was even looking for her. Precautions were necessity though, as arduous as it was. Staying hidden had, at that time, been the lesser of two irritations.
But things had changed and she found herself worrying. Something she hated to do.
"No, I gave up on that." she replied, "Just thinkin' now."
"About what?"
She didn't bother with an answer. If he didn't know what was occupying her mind 24/7 for the past century or so by now, then he needed to climb out from under his rock.
"Maybe I should have been more specific" he laughed, scratching the back of his neck in that sickly adorable way of his "What I mean is: What are you planning to do?" He probably already knew the answer to that as well. She had been agitated ever since Isshin's last phone call. Nothing could go back to the way it was now and she knew she wouldn't be able to stay away, as bothersome as going back to the others would be.
"Well, I suppose I gotta head back and see what the others are plannin'." she said.
"Do you think they'll be happy to see you?"
"I dunno." Was all she said.
"Are you going to fight?"
"Fight with what?" She asked. She tried to sound undaunted and aloof as usual but it came out with an edge of bitterness. She could tell it was obvious in the way Shiro's brows inched upwards. This display of bitterness could very well be the extent of emotion that she had exhibited in over one hundred years. She sighed. "Fighting sure does take a lotta effort." She offered instead. "I think I'll stay out of it. If all the good guys get themselves killed then I might be obligated to give it a shot but I'm sure it won't come to that. I'm goin for...moral support and such."
Kasumi stood with a lazy yawn and turned. She was never great at goodbyes but the least she could do was let her two long time companions know she was leaving.
"Well...I'm going then." She said. She wouldn't bother packing. Not that she owned anything worth taking.
She wasn't going to ask him if he wanted in on the coming war whenever that may be. He always said he would stay out of any shinigami battles. He hated shinigami, maybe even more than she did. He was shunned by them all whereas she was only persecuted by the Central 46. As far as she knew, to all of Seireitei something like a Vizored was unheard of. Any friends and family she and the others left behind so long ago had assumed them MIA and later on KIA. Killed the night of the hollow attack in the Rukongai. It wouldn't be hard to believe since bodies of shinigami returned to reishi the moment they passed on.
If he changed his mind, he knew where to find her. Moura wasn't even a blip on her radar when it came to recruiting fighters. If anything, she wanted him far away and safe as possible.
"If you need anything don't hesitate to let me know. And er…try not to die eh? Make sure you keep up your meditations. And don't forget…" He was rambling now. Perhaps trying to delay her leave? Who knew he was so clingy? "…ask Isshin about those files on the new kido. I've been expecting them for over three months now so I'm sure he's forgotten all about it."
She scratched her cheek with her index finger. 'Should I just walk away? If I stand here who knows how long he'll go on?'
"I'm leaving now, Shiro. Take care of Moura. I'll contact you if anything big happens. Ja 'ne!" She shunpoed off the roof like her life depended on it, because really, if she thought about it, she just might have been badgered to death back there if she had stayed another minute. Talking when not necessary just wasn't necessary. She'd followed through with that saying for the past 100 years give or take. Words never got her anywhere. Action did. But then, she couldn't really be bothered with action either.
She descended the rickety old stairwell and walked through the door of what may have been room A3 or A8 from the looks of the indentions on the door belonging to the metal letters that were long gone. She walked through what may have been a kitchen at one point and grabbed an apple out of the bowl of fruit. She really didn't have time to look for him. Her mind was made up and she had to follow through soon before she changed it and cowered in a corner for another century.
"MO?" She called. Why did he have to have the music so loud? This kind of 'music' is loud even with the volume down but Kasumi knew he had it up to the maximum. She suspected damaged ear drums caused long ago by this habit thus resulting in him having to turn it up more and more as the years progressed. Right now without the barriers on the building this racket could most likely be heard in the next town over. He probably barley heard anything at all.
She sighed tiredly and looked around before reaching for a notepad and pen.
'Mo-Chan…Goodbye.'
She was never good at goodbyes.
