Persuasion

The floor was hard yet smooth, a texture that she had not felt in centuries; her claws clicked with every step, her good eye glancing about curiously as she peered over the bare, plain white walls. The ceiling towered far above them, the hall relatively wide for so few people that traversed this area, all of which looked funnily at her as she passed.

They were in the living quarters, as her escort had explained, heading towards the more private quarters of the Espada, where she was promised a larger room to herself, with plenty of privacy.

Her escort, the blind Shinigami, was unusually quiet, hardly making the attempt to make her feel welcomed in anyway. He had called himself Tousen, admitting to being an ex-Shinigami like Aizen and that other fellow she'd seen, the one with the silly smile…

"This will be your room," he stood before one of the many doors, opening it easily for her to enter.

The four legged Hollow paced inside gently, annoyed by the clicking; she moved to the center of the room and gazed about, finding it rather empty – it matched the rest of this place.

There was a large rug on the floor, an enormous couch to the side, a table and chair, a fancy mirror on the left wall, and a barred window with a perfect view of the endless moon.

"Does it suit you?" Tousen inquired, though she knew he would neither care nor do anything about it if she was displeased.

"It is fine," she replied easily.

Slightly curious, Triste padded over to the large mirror and saw, for the first time in years, her reflection, her true appearance.

Not much had changed since she last witnessed her own visage: the fur had grown a bit, and her skin was paler, most likely from malnutrition, but other than that, it was just the bandages.

They had been applied not long after last seeing herself, for the scars were deep and burned often, but these bandages hid her true agenda and seemed to ease the pain at times. The wraps over her right eye were the most important, for that wound was the greatest of them all.

Behind her in the mirror, she could see Tousen watching her through those closed eyes…

"I wonder… what were you and that Adjucha discussing when first approaching me? You said I was different…"

"… You are unlike the other Vasto Lordes we have seen. You do not bear some of the same characteristics, nor does your aura resemble theirs."

Her eye narrowed slightly, still staring at herself in the mirror. "Hmm… I suppose I am on the unique side…" Slowly she turned from the mirror and walked into the light of the moon as it shone on the floor; "You are blind, are you not?" she called callously, meaning no insult.

"I am."

"Hmph… you are lucky to have such a gift."

For a moment, Tousen was taken by surprise. "You are the first to think so."

"Then others are fools. Everything has a greater meaning that can only be understood through some abnormality – and to be blind means you can see through the façade of others."

"You seem familiar with such topics," Tousen reflected aloud, faintly impressed.

"I suppose… I am only half-blind myself; one eye sees the world as it is, while the other sees the truth."

"Is the world not true?"

She glanced back at him with half a smirk, "It is as I said before: What the world sees is not always what the world gets. Many truths lie, and many lies speak true. It is hard to know what is right and wrong… Tell me, what part do you play in all of this?"

Tousen gazed in her direction quietly before facing the back wall: "Aizen-sama seeks a better world, one that is right and just… that is why I shall follow and assist him in any way that I can."

Her eye narrowed slightly. "How can you be so sure?"

"Being part blind, you must understand the darkness that overwhelms us. Through Aizen-sama, I have seen the light…"

"The light… it is not always the truth, I'm afraid…"

"Hmph, see for yourself then what true justice is. But only through Aizen-sama can it be accomplished! Think about it…" the blind man snapped suddenly, before turning to leave in a hurry.

Triste watched him go idly, disappointed that she had lost him so easily, the only person she'd had an intellectual conversation with in years, one that should have shared some of her beliefs. I suppose that Aizen fellow has really had an effect on him… or he's brainwashed, one of the two. Oh well, I guess he is entitled to his own opinion…

She glanced back at the mirror for a moment, eyeing the bandaged side of her mask meticulously before turning back towards the couch. Testing its softness with one paw, she slowly climbed up and settled into the middle, completely subdued by the comfort it brought her…


Elsewhere, high atop Las Noches, Aizen sat leisurely in his chair with Gin not far off, both watching as Ulquiorra approached.

"You summoned, Aizen-sama?"

"Yes, I wanted to ask you about our new friend, Triste… How is it that the two of you know each other?"

Ulquiorra was silent for a moment, but soon answered: "We met many centuries ago. Along with a few others, we were the elite of all the Vasto Lorde – possibly the only ones at that time. However, we disbanded on less than good terms."

"I see. And what do you know about her? What of her past?"

There was a definite pause this time as Ulquiorra closed his eyes. Aizen was unsure how to judge this reaction, especially since Ulquiorra was always silent and reserved. Before he could ask again, Ulquiorra spoke up: "I shall tell you what I know.

"As a human, she died in a very secluded area. Neither Hollow nor Shinigami would take her soul, not even those that came within close proximity to her. Her chain of fate eventually broke from the site of her death, and she was left to wander, still untouched by either side. From what I understand, she was a lost soul for nearly two years."

Two years? Aizen wondered, A lost soul lasting that long without being noticed is unheard of. Secluded or not, even small-fry Hollow are found everywhere.

"It was then that she finally went mad, transforming into a Hollow and consuming an entire nearby village out of starvation. To her luck, that village was full of very spiritual people, and she gained a massive amount of power.

"Corrupted by her hunger, she went from village to village, seeking out more of those spiritual humans, consuming powerful souls everywhere she went. Throughout all of this, she was never bothered by a Shinigami or another Hollow. For months on end, she was left to her own devices with no interruption."

"It seems odd that Soul Society wouldn't have noticed such a powerful spiritual attack," Gin commented.

"After awhile, she became nearly untraceable. After consuming so many rich souls, she could hide her reiatsu from Shinigami and Hollow alike, and became even less conspicuous when nobody died."

"Nobody died?" Aizen questioned, further interested in the strange history of this Hollow he'd stumbled upon.

"Triste no longer needed to eat their soul – she was able to leech the energy directly from living creatures. The process was slow; many humans thought it merely a disease, and the Shinigami found no reason to suspect a Hollow was at fault."

"For how long was she doing this?" Gin asked.

"It is uncertain for how long she was out there – she was near insanity throughout most of it, and she disappeared back into the desolate lands when she finally snapped. However, we do believe there were a good number of years in that time span.

"Afterward, she wandered aimlessly, apparently grieving over all the 'terrible things' she'd done. While lost, something dramatic happened to her and she was sucked into Hueco Mundo. From that point on, she has refused to return to the human world."

There was a long silence between the three of them, Aizen and Gin intrigued by such a unique Hollow history: Not only was she a lost soul for years, but for decades she fed off of living souls and evaded the Shinigami with ease…

"What was it that happened?" Gin finally inquired, "What caused her to come back to Hueco Mundo and never return to the human world?"

"I do not know the exact details of what happened, but if what I was told is right, you are mistaken about one thing: Triste did not return to Hueco Mundo. It was the first time she'd entered."

Aizen's interest was finally peaked, his joy obvious to those around him.

"But Hollow's are taken to Hueco Mundo after turning, are they not?"

"There are some cases where the souls are left stranded in the real world, attempting to earn their first meal before coming home. This is what happened in Triste's case, and because she was never threatened by the Shinigami, she had no reason to flee into our world."

Gin and Ulquiorra watched as Aizen suddenly chuckled to himself before rising to a stand, turning his back on them as he walked towards the railing, still laughing softly as he looked upon this massive fortress he had built.

"We have ourselves quite a prize, don't we? Just think… a Hollow that survived in the real world for innumerable years, feeding off of every powerful creature she encountered. And then she came to Hueco Mundo, refusing to return to the mortal world out of remorse… she may be a tricky one to persuade to our side.

"Very well, Ulquiorra – that is all for now."

"Yes, Aizen-sama…" Ulquiorra bowed obediently before turning to leave, all three realizing that Tousen had just arrived.

Waiting until Ulquiorra had left, Gin turned enthusiastically to Aizen: "You seem awfully happy!"

"Perhaps I am? To have her in our midst would make her a powerful ally; none from Soul Society would be able to withstand that leeching power of hers… Kaname, how has our guest settled in?"

"She seems well enough, but I am uncertain of her willingness to join. She appears to be very philosophical, more so than I, perhaps…"

Aizen nodded, "Yes, she certainly appears to be a tough one to crack. Hmm… perhaps we should better acquaint her?"

"What did you have in mind?" Gin's grin broadened.

"Nothing too strenuous: we just need someone with the right attitude to rile her up, and someone else to swoop in and save the day…"

Through a tiny little slit, Gin's eyes almost became visible: "You really like to toy with other's hearts, don't you?"

Aizen merely smiled.


For about an hour, Triste had been sleeping comfortably on the vast couch, though she was plagued by an unusual dream: she was here, in Las Noches, but she was not alone. There was someone else, someone she couldn't see, but she could hear their sweet voice and smell the salt from their tears…

She awoke to a less-than-gentle knocking at her door, her guest apparently on the impatient side.

She slipped down from the bed and padded easily over to the door which opened automatically for her as she got so close. There in her doorway was a maskless Hollow that she did not recognize from the raiding party, a tall man whose chest was exposed as he stood rather cockily, his wild blue hair accentuating the blue marks around his eyes. The remnant of his mask was located along his jaw and cheek, baring a pair of wicked teeth. He certainly looked like the impatient type.

"It's about time!" he growled, confirming her theory.

"What do you want?"

"I was sent to give you a sort of introductory," he growled, more to himself than towards her. He was obviously just as displeased about this as she.

"Introductory? To what?"

"To this little club we've got going, what else?! What's your name?"

"Triste. And you?"

"Grimmjow. Now remove your jaw and lets go!"

"Excuse me?!" her temper flared at the return of his bossy arrogance, but he wasn't at all afraid.

"I refuse to walk around with a woman when they sound like that!"

Triste's glare remained constant. She had locked it back in place as soon as Aizen's guard had begun the escort, but now that this man 'requested' its removal, she almost felt willing. She was not at all threatened by him, but, after considering the situation a moment, she complied.

Grimmjow watched idly as she practically broke her jaw, letting it dangle beneath her human chin before a feminine voice spoke: "There, are you happy now?"

"Hmph!" was his only response as he moved out of the door. "They say you hide your reiatsu very well."

"I'd like to think so," she replied with slight modesty.

"Just by the power boost you give off during that little trick of yours, it's easy to tell you're of Espada quality."

"And I should be honored by this?" her eye narrowed as she reluctantly followed him out into the hallway, allowing him to escort her through the white halls.

"The Espada are the highest level of Hollow around here, and only ten are allowed in. If a new one comes along, the numbers shift and the old one gets kicked out. Simple enough, right?"

"Oh? And what number are you?"

"Six."

"I see…… And what number is Ulquiorra?" she asked next, apparently not too concerned with this fellow.

His blue eyebrow raised to this question, his scowl growing, "That's right, I heard you had a history with him… He's number four."

To his surprise, Triste smiled at this comment. "Four, eh? So that means there are others stronger than he? Good. Maybe that'll knock him down a peg or two…"

"And what about you? Are you stronger than him?" his gaze narrowed dangerously.

"If you're worried about losing your number, don't be. Ulquiorra is indeed stronger than I, even though we only fought once, long ago…"

"So you think you're stronger now?"

"My strength has not changed much, and with his mask gone, I'm sure his power increased greatly. However, I think I could still par with him…" she replied easily, trying to refrain from smiling at the prospect of fighting the indifferent Hollow.

"Why do you think that?" he questioned, forming his own interest over this new Vasto Lorde.

Her burgundy eye met his evenly: "Our first match would have been a tie had we not been stopped. Any improvements we might make will not change that outcome."

Grimmjow did not reply, but was certainly interested in what she could do. Ulquiorra was considered stronger than he, and if this new comer could really keep up, he was curious as to how well he matched up.

"So where are you taking me?"

"Anywhere, I was just told to escort you around…"

Triste's sigh was loud, not afraid to let her disappointment show. She glanced idly about as Grimmjow continued to aimlessly walk around, not saying a word. "Is there even any point to this?! Are you taking me anywhere specific or should I just return to my room?!"

"Shut yer trap! You'll see in a minute!" Grimmjow snapped back.

Triste gave her own "Hmph!" to this, but continued to follow him just the same. Besides, if her senses were right, the path that had led them here had been altered. She did not know how, but knew just the same that she wouldn't be able to retrace her steps.

Soon Grimmjow was leading her up some stairs, a room full of light awaiting at the top. When they cleared the steps, Grimmjow took a step to the side in order to let her pass him, to see everything clearly.

As soon as she passed through the doorway, she was left speechless. "What… what is this place?"

"This is the heart of Las Noches."

Triste stepped past him lightly, her crimson eye wide with wonder as she glanced all about her, her main focus caught on the ceiling: "The sky…"

"A mirage," Grimmjow spoke up, rudely breaking the enchantment it held. "Aizen had it put there for who knows what reason. From here you can see all of the other portions of Las Noches, where other Hollows reside and work."

She glanced upon the dozens of bulbous buildings and square towers, whose hallways connected to the next, and whose windows had clear view of this brighter place. But it did not interest her like the sky, no matter how fake he claimed it to be. Seeing the bright blue sky and its fluffy white clouds brought back many nostalgic memories for her; it had been so long since she last saw it, watched over by the never-ending night of Hueco Mundo for more years than she dare to remember…

"So what's your deal, anyway?"

"Hmm?" she turned to him almost pleasantly, calmed by this room.

Grimmjow crossed his arms and leaned against the rail with resumed annoyance, looking down at her with very little respect. "Why haven't you been turned yet? Every Hollow that gets picked up is almost instantly transformed."

Her eye flickered for a moment before turning away again: "Because I'm obviously the only one who doesn't care about any of this. Why should we rid ourselves of our masks? Nothing can be gained by it…"

"We receive new power!" Grimmjow growled, slamming one of his fists into the railing, causing the metal to scream.

Triste glared back once again, "And to what end will you use this new power?! Do you really intend on following that Shinigami's every whim? Your new power merely belongs to him!"

"It is MY power!"

"He gave it to you! That binds you to him! You will never be anything but his puppet!"

And with that, a fist flew.

Triste dodged his strike easily, ducking the follow-up, continuously managing to avoid his swift attacks with relative ease – which, of course, pissed Grimmjow off even more.

"What do you know of this power?! You're too scared to try it for yourself!"

"And what would you know of fear?!" she snapped hastily, her eye burning brightly with rage.

"Exactly!" Grimmjow grinned wickedly as his fist swept past her shoulder, managing a pressure cut. "I know no fear!"

"Then I shall have to show you!!" she cried out viciously, her snarling Hollow's bellow returning subtly. She crouched into an attack position, her red eye glowing at this point, and as he prepared for a counterattack, he noticed a strange aura coming from her claws.

Huh?

Still in stance before the strike, Grimmjow was suddenly distracted by other lights that began to appear on her body: he had easily seen the pink aura at her feet that seemed to emanate from her like steam, but now he could see strange glows coming from beneath her bandages, a peculiar blue light shining from the hidden side of her mask.

And then the most curious thing happened: one of the pink streams suddenly reached out to the nearby rail, circling it ominously before the bar soon began to deteriorate, its particles floating amidst the pink as it flowed back towards its host. The streams and particles went straight to the small cut he'd managed… and healed it.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed dangerously at this point.

"My, my! What's going on here?"

Both hesitated immediately at the new voice, turning to glance at the doorway they'd just come from to find one of the ex-Shinigami watching them with mild indifference.

Triste's eye widened yet again: Him…

Both relaxed as Gin stepped closer, coming up beside Triste easily with that silly smile that made him very hard to take seriously: "Now, now, Grimmjow! You weren't supposed to pick a fight with our guest! We're trying to bring her to our side, remember?"

Grimmjow did not meet his eyes, simply stared off to the side with a "ch" sound, slipping his hands into his pockets coolly.

"Now then!" He turned to Triste: "If we're done here, perhaps I could resume the tour for you?"

She glanced away hastily, hoping to keep her wits about her and not make her feelings so obvious. "Actually, I'd like to return to my room now, if you don't mind. I think I've seen enough here," she commented, meeting Grimmjow's eyes dangerously for a moment.

"Very well," Gin replied easily, not at all fazed. Then again, he never is, is he? With that, Grimmjow watched as Gin led the way back into the inner sanctum of Las Noches, Triste following lightly. The aura around her claws had dissipated, and the blue light had gone out, but, he noticed, a few of the red lights beneath her bandages still had a faint glow. On the railing, a small portion was missing, as if someone had taken a bite out of it. With another "ch," he turned and left in the opposite direction.

"Don't mind Grimmjow, that's just how he is," Gin spoke up lightly, attempting to start a conversation with her.

"That's just the problem – someone needs to teach him a lesson in humility!" she replied, still a little angry.

"If you were to up the challenge, it could be arranged!" he informed her callously. "When Menos have their masks removed, we like to test their strength to determine if they'll be a new Espada."

Triste made no response, but her eye narrowed just slightly.

"Oh! Forgive me! That probably just pushed you further away, didn't it?"

Her eye glanced up at him, curious of his entire demeanor. He always bore that smile, and his tone of voice made that apology seem rather fake. Perhaps it was? Perhaps he knew what he was doing?

"No…" she sighed at last. "Do not trouble yourself with something so trivial. If anything, I'd prefer you be honest with me about everything that goes on here."

"Very well."

As they approached an intersection, Gin turned to go right, but Triste hesitated.

"Is something wrong?" he called easily.

"Tell me… Do the corridors change periodically?" she inquired, staring down the left hallway where she knew that she and Grimmjow had come from.

"Ah! So you noticed, eh? Yes, they change every so often, but you get used to it pretty easily. These buildings are not so complex that you'd get too terribly lost!"

Triste stared off for another second or two before turning to follow Gin once more, surprised to find the bedroom hallway just around the next corner – it had been a longer distance with Grimmjow. Was it because of the corridor change or because he was simply trying to think of a place to take her?

Like a gentleman, Gin walked her to her quarters, the door opening automatically to their approach. And like a gentleman, he allowed her to enter first.

"I'm sorry your tour of Las Noches had to be so short. But if you'd like, I could stay and answer any questions you might have."

Triste hesitated halfway in, glancing back at him wearily for a moment… "I'd like that, actually. Please, come in…" she spoke up, a slight bashfulness to her actions.

As Gin followed her in, she went straight over to her bed and climbed up eagerly, still in love with the comfort it provided. So much better than all those sandy nests.

She watched as Gin went to the table and chair, sitting down in a very relaxed and comfortable position. "Now then! What did you want to know?"

Triste was silent for several seconds, staring at her pillow in thought. "I have heard rumors, but… I wish to know what Aizen is planning."

"I'm afraid that's something I cannot answer, not without your full support," he replied.

"I see. Then answer me this: Are you planning on waging war against Soul Society?"

He cocked his head slightly. "Mmm… it may come to that."

"And you are not affected by this? Waging war against those you once called comrades?"

"I actually prefer to stay out of it, but I will not hesitate to fight back."

"Yes, they would try to fight you, wouldn't they? A deserter who teams up with the Hollow."

"You make it sound like a bad thing."

"It isn't?"

"Aizen is going to bring about a new world order. Sometimes casualties are necessary in order to bring about change, in order to progress. Do you not agree?"

Again, Triste hesitated, but this time because of a painful memory. "No… you are right. But what about those that get hurt? You shouldn't put them aside so freely, so… what do you do for them?"

For a short moment, Gin's smile actually faded, sensing a terrible sadness in her as she stared fretfully at her pillow. "Tell me, Triste… what happened in your past?"

Her head bolted up at this question, staring at him full on now with shock and even a bit of fear hidden within the depths of her eye. But Gin merely stared back, his expression still on the funny side even though his smile barely existed at this point.

Her head turned away again, dropping to the floor, her claws nervously clenching at the bed.

"I don't know how much Ulquiorra has already told you, but…"

Gin took note to this: he hadn't mentioned the fourth Espada – she knew they would have spoken to him about it already.

"I died at a young age in the mortal world, on the outskirts of a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. I was trapped there by my chain of fate for many months, but no one ever came for me: no Shinigami, no Hollows, not even other souls to keep me company. So finally I broke free, and traveled the nearby country, hoping to end my suffering… but still no one came. I saw them all the time, everywhere, but none seemed to even take notice of me…

"It didn't take long for me to go insane with despair – as a result, my chain began to encroach, and I was transformed into a Hollow."

"So you were brought to Hueco Mundo?" Gin piped in, hoping to confirm Ulquiorra's words.

But Triste shook her head softly, "No. Because I'd been there so long, my body was starved, and I…" she hesitated, hating herself for her sins the more she thought of them. "I devoured an entire village. I consumed everything, dead or alive… My bloodlust grew as a result, and I continued to ravage the land, eating everything in my path!"

"For how long did this go on?"

Triste shook her head: "I don't know… I was in a frenzy for most of it, craving more and more souls until there were none left. By the time I found a new settlement, my mind had cleared a little and my powers had advanced: I was then able to drain my victims without actually killing them."

"I wonder… Ulquiorra claimed that many of those first villages bore very powerful spiritualists. Is that correct?"

Her silence was confirmation.

"One of them saw me, once… right before I took his life…" she whispered softly, still able to see his face clearly in her mind's eye. "I could see the fear in his eyes even after I had eaten his soul…" she trembled, closing her eye in hopes that the vision might leave her, but no matter how she tried, it lingered painfully.

"I'm sure Ulquiorra told you the rest," she spoke up again, calming herself a little, "How I slowly drained many villages thereafter."

"Yes. He said that you never took their lives with this method."

"… My only reprieve…"

Gin continued to study her closely. "After that, he was very vague. He claimed you 'snapped' and then wandered off until something else happened," he spoke slowly, watching the emotions in her eye very carefully, "something 'dramatic' he said, that finally brought you to Hueco Mundo…"

Her head dropped subtly, still fearing her past.

"It is indeed vague, but that's how it was… I finally came home to my peers, but after all I'd done, I couldn't bring myself to go back to the mortal world… To this day, I have kept my vow never to return."

A strong silence followed her words, Gin trying to think of what else he could ask that had yet to be answered, while Triste continued to mope in the memories of her past.

"Tell me something," she whispered softly, regaining his attention, "Ulquiorra… what did he say after that? About my time in Hueco Mundo?"

Gin tilted his head once again, curious as to why she asked. Was there more to her story? "To be honest, we didn't ask. Why do you ask?"

There was a moment of stillness before she finally shook her head softly. "It is nothing… Besides, I have told you a great deal about myself with nothing to show for it. Please, tell me of your past."

"Mine?" Gin tilted his head yet again before a bit of his usual smile returned. "I'm afraid it is not as interesting as yours…"

For an instant, Triste also smiled. "Indulge me."

"I can't say I remember my time in the mortal world, but I was taken to Soul Society when I died. I lived on the streets for many years before being accepted into the Shinigami Academy."

"Academy?"

"It's where you go to learn how to use your spiritual power properly so that you can advance into the 13 Squadron."

"And you made it in?"

"Of course! I was Aizen's vice-captain for many years."

Triste's entertainment level dropped significantly at these words. "… Oh…"

But Gin took no offense, and continued with his story: "Aye! Captain Aizen led the Fifth Squadron. Tousen led the Eighth. With time, I was promoted to captain of the Third Squad."

Triste simply stared. "I see… so all three of you were captains when you left Soul Society… I'll bet that left them in disarray… And that's probably why the three of you are able to thrive so well here in Hueco Mundo."

"What can I say? Aizen has amazing persuasion techniques," Gin shrugged his shoulders innocently, though his grin said otherwise. "But you're the first Hollow to not want to be a part of all this. Most jump at the chance!"

"I still don't see why…" Triste muttered helplessly.

"It's just as you said: they all want more power. And besides, with the removal of their masks, they no longer have to worry about eating the other Hollows to keep up their strength."

To this, Triste was instantly alert, her forelegs nearly pushing her all the way up in her surprise: "What did you say?"

Gin stared back curiously: "Hmm? I said they no longer have to eat each other to keep strong. Once your mask is removed, you can neither grow stronger or weaker according to the amount of energy you consume. You'll only get stronger through normal means…"

Triste was still sitting up, her eye wide as she stared at him, lost in her thoughts: "You don't have to eat…? You mean, I'll no longer go hungry?"

He understood now.

"That's right! Well, nothing that the sand or even normal food couldn't cure you of."

Once again, her eye was traveling back towards the pillow, still in disbelief over what she was hearing. The hunger… it'll go away? I'll no longer have to worry about it? To starve relentlessly?

"You…" she muttered feebly, slowly meeting his gaze once again, "you're name is Gin, correct?"

He nodded.

"Is it possible… I mean… Would Aizen be willing to remove my mask for me?"

"Oh! Of course! Nothing would make him happier, I'm sure!" Gin's grin broadened.

"However," she interjected him quickly, before he jumped to conclusions, "I would still like some time to decide whether or not I will join you. If what you say is true, and the hunger will vanish with my mask, then it will be a strong point in your favor, but I still need time…"

"Of course! I will inform him immediately – we could have it taken care of in a few hours if you'd like?"

Triste trembled at the thought, already beyond anxious to have it 'taken care of.' It was not that she minded this form – she rather liked it, really, even if her voice was very manly – but she simply couldn't stand the hunger. For centuries, she has starved herself, taking only what she needed from other Hollows to survive. It didn't matter if they didn't notice her small pickings, it was the fact that she hated to do it, that the only way she could live was to steal other's energy. And by now, it had worn her out incredibly, and all she could ever hope for was to end the suffering… and a way had been offered.

"P-Perhaps longer… er, how about eight hours?"

"Eight?" he questioned as he brought himself up to a stand.

"It's my lucky number, you see, and, and I'd like some more rest first, and…"

"Triste," he called lightly, bringing her nervous stuttering to an end. "Eight it is. However, in seven the Helpers will come and prepare you. Is that acceptable?"

After a moment of staring, she nodded her head rather quickly. "Yes, that is fine… I…I shall miss this form, but this pain I feel… I just want the hunger to stop…"

And for the few following seconds, their eyes met once again on a solid level. Gin nodded easily: "I'll see you later then."

Without giving a formal farewell, Gin slipped out of her room, leaving Triste alone once again, but now with new hopes.

She was not sure how well Gin had persuaded her to their side, but he had certainly convinced her to remove her mask. She did not need the power boost, as she claimed earlier, but to be free of my hunger… it is the only wish this tortured soul of mine has…

Alone once again, Triste locked her mask's jaw back in place, feeling better instantly – it was so uncomfortable with the jaw hanging off its hinges. Whole once again, she settled back down into the middle of the massive bed, pulling a pillow close as she closed her eyes once more, ready for one last sleep in this form…


A/N: I just wanted to apologize if Grimmjaw seemed slightly out of character, but he gets better, I promise...