Do we ever really wonder, ever think at all, just what absolute truth lies out there? With every new story, each aspect we consider, whichever one our mind stores away, wouldn't there be another, or maybe a hundred more angles to it from which we remain ignorant? Like an enormous library, an archive. The tomes lined back to back, stretching beyond sight and comprehension.
It would take more than one's short, human life span to reach true understanding of even one of those tomes.
Because every story spins a plot, and every one of its many characters– a world all their own. To imagine we could somehow absorb these worlds, this knowledge? Preposterous. Yet the curious child within us demands this knowledge. They pull one tome apart from the others, small fingers tracing the withered, cracked leather. They blow the dust away, fascinated by the small particles dancing for a moment in their personal space- maybe cough at the density, if the story chosen is an old one.
But we are impatient, and a beginning must be given to our journey, always. It could be imperfect, not always exciting and fresh. Hell, it might not even be our own beginning.
Yet we still tell it. Because we are drawn to it, eager to let our minds be part of the story. And we always turn that first page.
Chapter one.
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The summer break has come to an end earlier than usual this year. It might have seemed so to most students, a normal feeling one might argue- crushing the spirit all the more heavily if this said student (and their friends,) had spent their vacation time so far away from home, and wound up never having the opportunity to kick back and relax like they were meant to be doing.
Then again, giving up one break in favor of saving a close friend's life sounded like a fair bargain. And the soul society was truly a beautiful place... or, well, it had its good spots from what she could remember.
Layla had offered a polite smile to the girl, scanning the last barcode of her purchase and helping the redhead pack up through the rest of that seemingly unimportant small talk. She'd have to commend her, Orihime didn't give obvious details so easily... and she'd had the imagination to exasperate anyone who didn't know what to dig for. It was nice though, knowing they were all back safely and with their mission accomplished to boot. The town surely could use its (rash, sloppy and hot-headed) soul reaper back.
It seemed that the number of hollows encroaching upon the human world had simply refused to sizzle down to a null one.
"Thank you- and have a nice day, Inoue-san." The bell chimed just as sweetly as the girl's reply to her, and with the silence returning, so did her less than cheery thoughts. They weren't about work at all, although with the line empty she did return to sweeping up the aisles of the small grocery store. Instead what took up her mind was the barely tangible twitch, a flicker of fire. Of energy... the energy of souls.
It was impossible though, wasn't it? It had to be. Resting her forehead for a moment against the dirty wooden handle of the broom, the woman's eyes slipped shut, clear gray irises hidden under their heavy lids. Impossible, and yet it was there, just there, the persistent, oddly feeble tremble and life of souls. Moving ever so slowly through her near surroundings.
'You would be unlikely to survive this, really it is pointless to even struggle now.'
Just the same as that hollow ache in her chest reminded her so did those haunting words. And the tone that had gone along with them- so casual, so disinterested. As if what had happened back then was nothing more than some mundane task, like taking out the trash. Her eyebrows furrowed.
'Truthfully, you were such a disappointment...'
That asshole. For a moment the wood under her fingers creaked- but just as soon as her fingers began to go numb with the pressure, she'd released it, one hand freed to run through her long, dark hair to ease the rage those memories brought back.
But she could almost still feel the icy metal against her back, and that showed in the shudder running down her spine even now. It was only interrupted by another chime of the bell, shifting the ravenette's attention back to reality.
Back to her current reality, at least. The one where she could just barely sense a disturbance in pressure just a few blocks away.
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One final twinkle from the doorbell bid her a goodbye for the day when Layla stepped out from the shop, and into the cool evening air. By the time that her shift had finished, the ripple of energy that caught her attention earlier had already vanished- but just to be sure, her pale eyes drew upward to the skies before starting on her way. The purples and reds of sunset were dim now and fading darker quickly, making room for the darkness of night to take over. She should probably try to start leaving work earlier.
Straining to read the faint, fuzzy pressures of spirit energy around her didn't yield much result either. Frustrated, and with a scoff to show it the raven headed on home instead. If that oddity was even there anymore, it was either much weaker or farther away... that was fine, then. It was no immediate threat and meant she wouldn't have to take any action about it unless—
... Not that she really could take any action. Damn it.
It wouldn't be farfetched to assume that even with the years that have passed since her unwilling leave, the yearning to prove herself hasn't faded. At points she wasn't even so sure it had been the urge to do good- it was just an urge to do, to do anything. To be able to act when danger presented itself instead of having to run and hide like some helpless, powerless soul.
Needless to say that she wasn't too happy with the knowledge that's precisely what she was now.
Streets passed by slowly while the woman had submitted to those musings, and passersby seemed to dwindle just the same as daylight continued to fade. Children would be put to bed soon. So will their older siblings, and their parents soon after. The citizens of the 'peaceful' town of Karakura would know nothing of the beats that roamed about at night, or of the nameless soldiers fighting for their safety. Not being one of those lucky, oblivious individuals had been a blessing to Layla though, the way she saw it. Because if one knew of monsters, fought them, seen the evil and corruption of those souls- and one day, just like that, had it vanish altogether? She would have probably gone mental within the first week just due to the constant paranoia. The mere idea of such a fate had her shuddering.
Her shadow reappeared once the streets were again illuminated by their mesmerizing white glow, an electrical buzzing sounding in the background as one of the bulbs ahead flickered to life, but she was practically the only one by this point whom they've kept company to. The streets have grown void, with only the stray car and the sound of her footsteps breaking their quiet. The bright lights never seemed this cold either, and after readjusting the strap of her purse a tad closer, Layla picked her pace up some more- the sooner she'd reach home and be able to warm up again, the better. Another shudder caused her shoulders to rise though... followed by a shrill screech that had the ravenette halting in her tracks like a deer in the headlights.
Why now— A hollow?
"Orihime!"
"Where did...?" That was Ichigo's voice, wasn't it? It was a relief to know the reaper was close enough to handle the situation (a bitter relief at least), but once her pale eyes ran down the length of the street to find the source and encountered nothing, she was forced to look up.
It wasn't a hollow at all. It was hell.
The gates towered overhead, open like a hungry beast ready to devour its poor prey. She wasn't ready to die though- it couldn't have been there for her!- And yet the mere shock of witnessing it was enough to have her stumbling backward, a now familiar tremble going through her body. She had heard stories about these doors, but never did she think she'd witness them first hand, from such a close proximity! The relief which washed through her was enormous when those terrifying doors began to shut again, fading... disappearing completely, without taking their victim with them. Instead, Ichigo remained standing just overhead, his bright hair the only thing really distinguishable from this distance.
Did the doors of hell appear to take him, then? But that couldn't be, could it? Hell couldn't claim a living soul. Not only that, but now that the initial shock was fading (and with some sense returning to her, with it) Layla's eyebrows began descending into a frown with a new realization. The feeling of that spiritual pressure was all wrong. Yes, she had nothing to compare it to and yet it just didn't seem to fit. It wasn't the feeling of anything relating to the soul society. It felt almost deformed, like the odd one that caught her attention that afternoon.
Just what the hell was going on?
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A/N: Alright, so this is it for now. It's a little short, mostly me brushing some rust off. Hopefully it's enough to gather up some interest though, and I'll be out with another chapter in the next couple of days.
Also as the name suggests... this isn't just my story. I'm fully willing to make inserts of other characters into this, or add in one-shots upon request. So go ahead and ask for it, if my style is to your liking. I'll promise to be nice... unless you ask for angst, ahah.
