A/N: Might add a 2nd chapter. Very surprised that I got to seven pages on word! I suspected only three! That's creative juices for you….and of course, don't forget to review.
Due to her rapid deterioration, Momo is sent to Kurotsuchi for a final mental evaluation before she gets sent to the Maggot's Nest. His verdict was decided quickly: she is insane.
Mad Mercy
"Remind me, Nemu, as to why exactly I have to divert my precious time from my experiments?" Kurotsuchi Mayuri hurriedly walked down the dismal hallway, apparently not too fond of going into the depths of his own division.
Nemu was, unsurprisingly, just as emotionless as ever. However, the slight waver within her reiatsu be told of a slight….interest, that is not to say she was neither excited or sad, but rather, her attention was caught "The orders sent directly from the Sotaicho, and by recrimination from Unohana taicho, says we are to perform a final mental examination on Hinamori fukutaicho."
Ah, no wonder her interest was piqued. Despite how much she tried, to say that Nemu was so emotionless to the point that being part of a colleague's incarceration….well, it would not be the truth—but her prevalent interest in human anatomy and mentality never failed to live up to his expectations.
"What?! I thought Unohana taicho had already finalized her evaluation?! Why send her here?! This is by no means a legitimate reason to pull me away from my critical studies!" Indeed, why did she send her here after her report was already filled? A second opinion, perhaps? But surely she must have known that he would hardly look for anything even remotely different from her own results, as a scientist he had no interest in belaying the truth. She was insane, and it was highly unlikely that he would find anything that the fourth division taicho would have overlooked. Or at least, nothing that would change her verdict.
He was so irritated by the distraction and a not-so-befitting reason, that he momentarily lost himself in speculation—the only viable interest he had as of right now.
….heaven forbid…..did she actually have the slim hope of mercy from him?
He smirked at the irony. Yes, his imagination could get quite vivid and unfounded….
"Though Unohana had some invoice, the soutaicho was the one who finalized the decision. In addition, it seems the Central 46 are the ones that would prefer a professional second opinion. It would apparently be highly unbecoming for the government if a fukutaicho was be removed from her position and imprisoned for being considered a 'large potential danger' if it was only taken at the word of one individual. Her absence would be both noticed and felt regardless of how it is handled. This way, they have no doubts." Nemu stated.
"Hmf! I highly doubt Unohana was the only 'qualified individual' that evaluated her." He snorted.
"Many officers of the fourth have already given the same conclusion as far as mentality from the bounds of phycology and like medical fields. However, it is preferred that an evaluation of her reiatsu in regards to her mentality to be tested as well—of which members of the fourth are also adequate. However, you and Unohana taicho are the only optimal professionals of such a task, apparently the fourth was never trained in the evaluations of the many reishi wavelengths nor reiatsu prescribed synapses. For you, it was assumed that this evaluation would be an accurate analysis."
"I see." He still seethed with irritation. He, for one, has never heard of an occasion where the condition of the psyche has not reflected into the spiritual essence of a being-well, he has, but he created those instances. But this was still a waste of time. Even now, as they neared the metal door, he can feel the unstabibility of her spirit energy.
He gritted his teeth and grasped the cold handle, all he needed to do was to get within a very close proximity of her reiatsu. That's fine. His mere hand alone will be enough to evaluate her reiatsu to the fullest extent and he'll strangle her with it. That would be enough to satisfy any report, right? If she fails to be anything but what he had already surmised, he would promptly screech at Nemu to send his final report. All it would take is five seconds. Five seconds wasted on this cause already lost, that wretched nuisance that continued to breathe on the other side of the door in front of him. That imbecile that dared to exist within his walls.
The clang of steel against the astute wall of this underground was heard all throughout the hallway and he briskly stepped in, rage evident and gleaming in his bright eyes. Those same eyes that searched the small room for the decrepit huddle in the farthest corner, and as they did so…..the irises receded further into its depths, the pupils steadily increasing in size as the rage went into retreat.
She looked pitiful over there; the black of her garb clinging to her slightly smaller frame, and drooping to show her shame. Her form was belittled by evidence of bad self-care; her refusal to eat had made her thinner, her months in a hospital bed leaving her muscles lame and strung from lack of exercise, and her refusal of the outside situation leaving her mind hazy and foggy—as evidenced in her worsening body. Mind is to body as body is the mind, as they say. The girl had eyes that were wide and looked straight at him, moist and so wide, their depth only briefly alluded to as the chocolate brown orbs merely remained glazed over with only a little dot of an iris laying on him. But the lack of focus in her eyes told of no apparent interest in what was in front of her….a mere husk of her former-self.
Oh….he could already feeling his already-strewn smile widening further on his face, so much that his cheeks were starting to hurt. It's been while, since he last felt that…..a long while. It's been a very long while since his mind was so interested that they were already thinking through every possibility, of every metabolic process and of just feeling the reiatsu that enveloped the room. The moment he did so much as opened the door, being hit with the full intensity of her energy, his interest was caught; and the more he looked at that form, and the more he heard her ragged breaths…the more his interest seemed farther and farther from leaving.
With his grin still plastered on his face, he raised a pale hand-a dismissal wave for Nemu.
With a slight widening of her eyes, however briefly, she slowly backed away. Only the 'click' of the door was the message of her leaving, leaving only two people in the room.
Mayuri Kurotsuchi, has long been beheld as a lunatic mad scientist. His only legitimate reason for any of his actions, was for the reason of experimentation. Experimentation of any sort; social, biological, physical, mental...
His will to satisfy his rampant curiosity is the pure motive and core drive for the majority of his life.
Then there's Momo Hinamori, who is, for every reason that many have concurred, is his total opposite—or, just as 'opposite' as most normal people were. But then, she's far from 'normal' now. Hasn't been 'normal' since the war's end at Karakura Town.
But what did that matter? All that was at this point was no different than childhood memories. Just little things that one can revisit when reminiscing. Something one can remember on a whim. But otherwise, are totally worthless.
Right now, at this moment, the girl in this room who held the name of "Momo Hinamori", was quite a perturbed version of the 'normal' Hinamori people typically described as kind, endearing, well-respected, well-loved and somewhat childish self that many on the outside held dear. They called her "beautiful", both in physical and personality-wise.
(Though in his opinion, the physical use of the term "beautiful" should be reserved for when she finally grows out of that childish body. Like when she's Matsumoto's age. Why they didn't call her "cute" primarily was beyond him. Perhaps it was the fact that she faced (most) adversity with a steadfast fire, and a steady forward march, giving her a resolute air. Or that her battle prowess, rarely seen, holds enough of an influence and resounding pressure to regard her as being truly worthy of the military title of "fuku-taicho"?)
But what did that matter? All that mattered now was that he, the mad one, was with her, the so-called beautiful one. He was the one to make the first advance; a single step toward the only other one breathing in this underground prison.
With a high-pitched voice, laced with excitement, he continued staring at her "You do realize why you're here, right? You are here to be deemed "sane" or "insane". If my results are not favorable, then you will be sent to the Maggot's Nest. Do you understand?"
She looked at him, possibly the most horrible man widely known in Seireitei, with a look of confusion evident on her face "M….maggot's….nest?"
He made his grin extend just a tiny bit, of course she probably wouldn't know what the Maggot's Nest was. Few lieutenants do. The Onmitsukido have long maintained its stance on the belief that the fewer who knew of the place, the less amount trouble would be caused. To them, the public leakage of this detainment facility would be hazardous to the "general safety of the Soul Society". Same goes with any discovery of delicate knowledge of which they guard.
"It is a place where certain shinigami, who have, as of yet, not committed any real crime, are kept. Dangerous elements and all that." And after a few moments of further consideration, he continued, noting the look on her face that told him she did not quite understand "You will find that I refuse to sugarcoat things…..It is, in the most basic sense, an asylum—albeit one that is meant for the 'disturbed' and not so much the 'insane', the insane have already committed crimes, so they are not there."
Shock and fear was registered almost immediately, dialating the pupils further and causing sweat to appear. "What?! Why?! What have I done!?" the higher toneation on her voice made her voice crack between certain intervals.
"It is not what you did. It's what you haven't done. From what I understand, you still doubt that Aizen was the real perpetrator behind the attempted murder of our king." He raised his hand, as if brandishing her for her assumption.
As if she was stabbed, she quickly made a rebuttal, yelling it this time "No!...No,no,no,no! I just…don't understand why! For what purpose! There should be no reason! He-"
"His reason was his own; he wanted to be King. He wanted to rule. That was his reason. But even if you do not understand his motive, why do you insist he should be pardoned?!" His interruption was quick and to the point, not letting her have enough time to further her conjecture. Her response was not predicted, but he quickly adapted to the situation. Her mind's state is now fathomable. All he has to do is go deeper so that he may confirm for himself of her mentality.
It took her a few moments to recompose herself, her eyes blinking a few times "T-That can't be the reason! What is there to benefit from it! The Soul Society has always been fine with the way things were!" she turned to him now, finding the courage to unwind from being the miserable ball toward the wall. "He had everything a man of his stature could want! A high position in the Gotei Thirteen, money, glory, loyal subordinates and fine reputation—there was no reason for him to want to be the King!"
Feigning frustration, he lashed back, very much keen to see her limit "And what made you think he was content with that!? People always want more, so what you think that Aizen did not want the most of what he could get given his power and abilities! He believed he could have been King, and he knew he probably had the power to do it! So he went for it! He devastated everything that stood in his way! Including you!"
"He would never—" her face met with a sharp pang on her skin and her cheek turned a shade of light pink. A sudden jolt in her senses told her she had just been slapped, and it hurt with the pain of needles. A quick glance at its source and she saw, with widening eyes (oh how wide they go!), Kurotsuchi's painted hand was perched in the air, remaining still since its former movement.
Only a millisecond of silence ensued, before a harsh battle cry was sounded from a hoarse-sounding throat, sounding just as scarred and tattered as its owner.
A sound which was quickly cut off. She charge forward, with a charged kido spell at hand and was quickly dispatched. With a raised, golden blade spewing poison from its 'mouth', Kurotsuchi quickly saw to it that she could no longer move her limbs. His twisted shikai could do that just fine-paralyzing, that is.
She collapsed, finding that her legs would no longer move on her behalf. Her back landed hard on the wall behind her, and she was thankful that she at least had enough control of her body—primarily through focused kido—so that she didn't fall to the floor. Instead she was leaning heavily on the wall, panting as blood oozed out her shoulder wound, a stab so quickly and precisely made.
She wished she could yell at him, curse at him even. But even her mouth refused to comply. All she could do was watch him, and feel the pain from that single strike he made. So quick and silent, she barely had time to react, and it came so quick she couldn't react. So precise, her whole body felt numb, and he was cautious in the fact that he made her right arm—her sword arm—complete unusable by severing the muscle strands that connect to it. It was precise also, in that the pain he caused with that single swing of his golden blade, was made at the precise moment when pain would be at its optimal height, its lingering wound stinging with a hot intensity. She didn't realize it at first, her body still being pumped with adrenaline. But as the moments passed, the pain was felt all to keenly.
It felt like she was being pricked with over one thousand needles. Or being stabbed by one hundred knives. Or perhaps being stung by a whole hoard of angry wasps. Be it by his will, or the poison's lack of potency, her mouth had the energy and ability to move on its own accord.
She screamed.
As she did so, she could not help but gaze at his face from the corner of her eyes, now stinging and blinded with tears. They said he preferred a woman's screams, apparently he preferred them from the "annoying" wails of a man. His lack of irritation or displacement only served to back up this statement.
She could see him, with a smile going even wider than before and his eyes…..now hazed with a certain fog, rolling to the back of his head as he enjoyed the euphoria that came with hearing her screams. From hearing her vocal cords strain themselves. From smelling the blood that seeped from her shoulder. From the pain she now felt.
How long did they stay like that, he wondered. Kurotsuchi didn't particularly mind time when he enjoying one of his simple pleasures.
But her throat eventually became raw, her voice hoarse and her mind tired. But she was far from unconscious.
Now letting herself fall further, now seeping toward the ground, she slowly peered upward. Now weary of what he might do further. Would he dissect her first before sending her off? Would he kill her and claim it was an "accident"? Would he toy with her and keep her here as an experiment? All of those possibilities seemed feasible. Her former fire was now snuffed out, she was nothing more than a gleam of her former hope. A hope of understanding was now far away, far from her reach, as it would seem like she would die here. Die, or perhaps be locked up. Either way, what she wanted most could not be achieved.
She heard a light scrap on the floor, of sandals brushing against smooth tile.
Her eyes met with the form of Mayuri, now taking steps toward her in a slow, but steady, progression. A progression that her mind registered in slow motion; he was moving with a face unreadable and a spiritual pressure unfathomable, with steps that were just as slow as they were resolute in their treading. More and more, the sound of sandals on the ground was echoing in that small room.
She tried scream, but her throat was unable. She tried to move, only to find that her limbs refused to adhere. She tried to escape, but it simply wasn't possible. All she could do, was have her panicked breath come out in pants and gasps. Her body was in a cold sweat, little beads of the liquid now on her face and forehead, an obvious signal to her fear. This man, she was sure, would dissect her heart if she left any chink in it; and she was now emotionally riddled with them.
He was in front of her now. So close to her that his shadow loomed over her form and his feet lightly touched her knees. Looking up, she saw his bight golden eyes stare down at her, leering at her "What is it that you want so desperately?" he asked.
She couldn't speak.
So he himself spoke, answering his own question with a deep, serious tone "You actually want to understand as to 'why' he left."
She was picked—or rather, dragged-up off the ground, quickly and with much force. Her robe even ripped a bit in the process due to how relentless and strong the grip was. She shut her eyes, awaiting for pain to come. For a slap to be issued, or a slash, or a punch. But it never came. Not on her face, not on her arm, not on her legs. But she was being crushed.
She was surprised, in every manner, to find that his arms had snaked around her torso and onto her back. That his spare, pale hand had found her hair, lacing his fingers in it and pushed her head onto his chest. His other hand now firmly half-grasping, half-pushing her spine.
He was hugging her. And she was terrified because of it. For this was anything but an act of kindness.
They were so close together, few areas on her front were spared from contact. His skin felt, perhaps due to the white paint that he constantly wore, cold—regardless of the warm blood that should be coursing through his veins. His slow breaths could be heard, grazing the top of her scalp. His face so close to her, she could feel his grin lightly brushing her hair, his height so accentuated to her pitifully small form.
She could hear his insides; of his calm, slow beating heart, soothed by her distress. Of his flowing blood, lulled by the sounds of her affliction. His multiple other multicellular functions that were alien to other organisms, and of the multiple 'machines' inside his body, of the many bacteria he infected himself with—they all sang with a soft hum, relishing in her silent anguish. His head was bowed low, his 'ear' ever more close to her neck so that he may better hear her screaming body.
For he could hear the sounds of her rapid heartbeat, of her rushing flowing red blood, of her working and writhing internal organs, and, (she was sure, because of those ear modifications,) could also hear her nerves slither, her fluids pulse and the way her muscle cords strung, flexed and recoiled. Of her panic. Of her fear. Every metabolic and biological cycle was being heard and analyzed ever so closely and acutely.
His fingers moved at times, lacing the strands of her hair—likely allowing some chemical or nano-technology to linger on every follicle. His breath grazed her neck, and she did not know is his breath held a discrete poison gas or a distilled depressant. And his voice….it shook her insides, and stilled her soul "I have decided…"
A pause occurred, in which time, he backed himself so that his mouth was next to her ear and whispered "…you're a lunatic. You won't go back to Seireitei."
She still had enough sense to fully register his words, despite how slow the process. She was frozen in every sense. In both body and mind.
Yet his words, so carefully chosen, still held to her, full effect and chorus "But you won't go to Maggot's Nest either. No, I will be merciful….and keep you down here."
Her eyes widened, shock registered in every part of herself, despite how still she was. Despite how deathly silent.
With a small grin, he started to release her, his robot-like arms now starting to loosen their hold "You can search all you wish. Using everything at your disposal. From tools to chemicals, to research notes to my staff. You can uncover it yourself as to why Sousuke did what he did. I hand pick all of my scientists and I have chosen you."
Had she voice by this point, this would be the statement that would leave her speechless.
"Pick an area of study: neuroscience, reiolgy, anatomy. Delve yourself into it. You have my permission. I highly doubt you will cause trouble for me, so I encourage you to submerge yourself into your endeavor." He purred.
Search for it forever. What you search for.
Reach out to maim and skewer the possibilities. Of everything that has a chance to be.
Defile the hidden knowledge. Only those that don't search for it find it sacred.
Grasp the discoveries. For you went through the pains to get it.
Cling to the madness….