Anger is as a good a way to wake up as any. So is fear. So is an accident.

"Waking up" is a euphemism, of course.


Things are always happening in the background.

Whether we see them , or even understand them, or dismiss them entirely does not mean that they are any less true.

A dream is only a dream if it stays inside the head, after all...


Oscar Joaquin de la Rosa did not honestly care for the death lands of his home country and, after finding himself before what could be considered a couple foremen and an empty shack that he was to occupy until he moved up in the world of the dead or moved onto another life, he was not inclined to stick around.

He had asked the men, obviously of much higher class than himself in his newly found death, covered in silks and leathers and with the air of youth hanging off of them like ornamentation, if the death lands were divided up with the souls from each country or, perhaps, religion and such.

'Of course.'

Was it possible to go to the area kept for Japan?

'Yes, but it's a long journey.'

Being dead has it's advantages, does it not?

'...Yes, but you have spiritual pressure. It would be wiser to stick around and learn how to use it before moving on. Hunger can be an unfortunate side-effect of so much energy.'

Surely there were ways to gather meals that he could get as if he were flesh and blood. Surely it would not be so much trouble to exist off of the land with herbs and mushrooms and fish and birds and such.

'Why in such a hurry to go to the east? Rukongai is less forgiving and more complicated than here. You are old, and family must be in this region, yes?'

No, the only family is to the east. Directions would be very much appreciated.

He had a long journey ahead of him in the years that followed, from what he could gather from the impressions on their faces.

No matter. He was dead, he had time.


It occurs to Oscar, sometimes in a rather absent fashion like when he was alive and noticed a dandelion growing out of cement that should probably have been plucked that he never got around to scooping up...it occurs to him that he should probably be a little afraid of Inoue Sora.

The man is, technically, a monster.

A monster that eats other monsters and stalks the woods and avoids the roads through the Rokungai. A monster that Oscar ran into because he was being attacked by a stray hollow and the Shinigami had not been called for and, just as he was almost caught, there was the smell of burning flesh, and the sound of something whistling through the air... and the predator on the ground, shrinking, a smaller figure shadowed by its massive form hunched over it; causing it to become no bigger than a ripe peach in a hand with something more like talons than nails, to be eaten by neat white teeth that were sharper at a second glance.

A monster that was actually once a lot worse than the skinny scarecrow of a man cut down before he saw thirty years in the world of the living, who transformed because he was just so sad, who stole a Shinigami's sword and stabbed himself and became this worrying soul who was blind in one eye and didn't bother any other souls wandering around unless they were Hollows and he thought he could get a meal out of them.

A monster that showed him the way to the Rokungai proper and made sure to show Oscar where he could get food that didn't require much effort.

Maybe monster should be replaced by 'friend' since Oscar considered that anything else just didn't suit Sora.


"You found a head in the woods and called back a body?"

"It seemed wrong to just leave him without arms and legs. I think he's older than you, Oscar. I didn't want to be rude."

Ishida Souken didn't know if he should be tremendously grateful that the slimy psychopath from 12th Division had finally grown bored of him and let him go, or if he should be a little worried that he had woken up surrounded by high trees with two men, completely unfamiliar to the Quincy, talking over him like he was a pet.

"Where did you even find a body to replace the old one he must have had?"

"I didn't..." the younger one hesitated, for all the world looking as confused and dazed as a rabbit that had avoided being struck by a car and was confused about it, "I just thought he should have his body returned and...well I kind of felt a little of my energy move towards him... and then it was just kind of, y'know, there."

The older man, possibly Souken's age, definitely foreign from his heavy accent, looked dubiously at other. Not like he thought he was lying, but more like he thought the younger had left something out, "...Was this like when you turn Hollow bodies into more manageable bits? Like when you exchange their size for more compact energy?"

"Mm, more like calling back the energy that was supposed to be there and rejecting the fact that he lost it-Oh, look, he's awake."