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Chapter 2: Encounter
Shuuhei always loved the wind.
To him, it was the epitome of power: Unyielding and relentless, forever traveling from place to place. It was the very definition of freedom and potential. It was boundless, limitless, and fearless. Shuuhei wished he was like the wind. Unlike the wind, he was trapped here in Kuro-Toreiru. Stuck with obligations to support his father and survive a mean lifestyle. Dairo and Kento had come at the promised time- just after one of his father's ink customers had paid. Thankfully, there were no further disputes as Dairo counted the coins snidely and quickly left with his equally brutish companion.
Sometimes, whenever he had spare time to be alone, Shuuhei would wander around the edges of the nearby forest and plains. He would spend at least an hour sitting on the hillside, just watching the gray sky and feeling the breeze sweep through him. Shuuhei's mind would instantly be calm and for that brief moment, he could imagine his life being far more meaningful than it really was.
"Shuuhei!" he heard his otou-san exclaim, "Shuuhei, where are you? I need your help."
He sighed as he folded his knees and got up, reality slamming its ugly head into him once more. He quickened his pace, and reached his otou-san at the front of the house.
"Yes, otou-san?"
"Shuuhei, I need you to buy some rice and soybeans from Yuto-san," his father began.
Shuuhei suppressed a groan. Yuto was the local shopkeeper who happened to be only one who took other methods of payment. Since he and his father were low on coins thanks to those thugs, Yuto was usually their last resort to get food. While that was good and all, Yuto was also a stingy cheat. There were times that Shuuhei had to double check the weight of the bags to make sure he wasn't a cup short. Not only that, if Shuuhei muttered even one word of disrespect in front of the overweight, obnoxious buyer- he could say sayonara to a good deal.
"Make sure to wrap the ink bottles and basket of berries tightly!" His otou-san said to him as he quietly went inside. Shuuhei only nodded before doing just that.
Before the morning sun had even risen, Shuuhei was already out of the house and on his way to the center square, with another hand-made basket over his shoulders. He casually dipped his hand in indigo as he walked past distinct landmarks (as distinct as they could get around here) and made his way around quietly. After at least 20 minutes of walking, Shuuhei finally reached the outskirts of the center.
There were a couple souls out, talking amongst themselves. As Shuuhei walked past them, he realized that most of the gossips were about the group of shinigami that arrived a week ago. Instead of the usual awestruck chatter he was used to hearing, Shuuhei's ears perked up when he heard something of interest:
"…all 10 of them disappeared!" One of the middle-aged ladies had whispered to her friend. "There was no trace of them left!"
"Could it be the hollows?" her companion muttered.
"Maybe, but surely hollows can't be so strong as to take down 10 shinigami at once?"
"This is frightening…if the shinigami can't stop the disappearances, then who can?"
Shuuhei begrudgingly moved on, it wouldn't do if he got caught eavesdropping, but he couldn't help but wonder. So the shinigami he saw had all vanished? The situation seemed to be getting worse. Hikaru was right after all…something bad was happening here, more so than they realized. He hoped he didn't end up facing who or what was causing the disappearances.
-o-
"So it's you again huh runt?" Yuto said, his tone condescending as he stared down at the dark-haired boy's small figure.
Shuuhei felt his eye twitch in irritation. "I'm here for the usual trade, Yuto-san."
"Well, open up then!" Yuto-san demanded. Shuuhei diligently loaded the ink and berries onto the scale while Yuto-san placed bags of soybean and rice on the other, waiting for the scales to balance out. When it did so, Shuuhei frowned.
"T-that can't be right!" he exclaimed, looking at the scales indignantly. "You had the scales loaded!"
"Shut your mouth, boy!" Yuto hissed. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing? You get what you get!"
"You had them loaded!" He repeated loudly. Some of the surrounding souls were starting to wonder what was going on. "There's no way ten ink filled bottles weigh only one small bag of rice! You're obviously cheating me!"
Yuto-san narrowed his bulgy eyes and glared menacingly. Shuuhei only glared at the obese shopkeeper in return. He couldn't accept this…he knew his father told him to trend lightly when dealing with the stingy shopkeeper, but his softness was just making Yuto grow more bold.
"Listen here boy, and listen well," Yuto warned, "You either take this deal or never set foot here again! You won't find another shopkeeper as generous as I am- so take it or leave it!"
"Fine!" Shuuhei replied angrily. "No deal! I'll be taking these back!" He made a move to grab the bottles but Yuto held them out of his reach. "Give those back to me!"
"Everything that is on this table is my property!" Yuto claimed. "Now get out of my sight-!"
"No! I'm not leaving without those!"
"Hey you two, what's the trouble here?" A young female voice called from behind.
"It's none of your con-!" Yuto stopped when he finally looked up to see who it was. Noticing the surprise, Shuuhei narrowed his eyes before turning his gaze to the intervener. His eyes widened in amazement as he took in the black kimono, short green hair, and a badge strapped to her left arm.
"Is this big bad man causing you trouble?" the female shinigami asked him, her mouth tight-lipped in comical indignation. Shuuhei didn't reply for a moment. He never expected to meet yet another shinigami, and one who actually took notice of him.
So Shuuhei only nodded in stunned silence before the green haired shinigami addressed Yuto.
"Now look here, Mr. Bad Man…" the shinigami said like she was scolding a little boy. "You don't treat little boys like that! That is just wrong! Now give the boy back his stuff!"
Yuto only stared at the female shinigami in disbelief, probably wondering if she's actually serious, until the shinigami narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"Do you have stuffing in your ears? I said give the boy back his things!" the shinigami repeated; her voice now had a threatening undertone.
Yuto nodded quickly before he more or less shoved the items back into Shuuhei's arms quickly.
"Good boy!" the shinigami said, smiling like a giddy child. "Now, was there something else you wanted?" She asked Shuuhei with a wide smile.
"I-I just wanted some rice and soybeans…" he muttered, "B-but he wouldn't give the right amount."
"Huh," she mumbled. Her face appeared thoughtful. "Okay, I know what to do!" Suddenly, she pulled out her katana and pointed it at Yuto's throat. Yuto jumped back with a shriek.
"I demand on my honor as a shinigami that you hand over your supply of rice and soybeans!" she declared. Both Yuto and Shuuhei stared at her, flabbergasted.
Is she for real…? Shuuhei thought. Though, he couldn't help but be pleased at seeing Yuto's humiliation.
"T-this is unreasonable!" Yuto sputtered. "I can't hand over my supply for free-!"
"Your cheating ways are unreasonable!" she countered, pointing at the loaded scales with her katana. The bag of rice was tilting the scales even though there was nothing on the other end. Yuto appeared aghast, embarrassed and angered of being caught. "Now hand the rice and soybeans over before someone gets hurt! Since I'm also thirsty, get me some sake while you are at it!"
Yuto visibly gulped before he was forced to follow the shinigami's demands. A few moments later, Shuuhei was carrying the biggest haul of rice and soybeans he had ever carried. The shinigami walked beside him, gulping down sake like there's no tomorrow.
"Ah! Now that hit the spot!" she exclaimed, after downing another bottle. "I am so glad I got Kensei to bring me along! I even got to exert some Mashiro justice!" With that, she dropped down and struck an outrageous pose. Shuuhei cracked a smile at her antics. Were all shinigami this weird?
"Hey little boy," she said, "Do you know of a good place to get souvenirs?"
He nodded. "Most of the shops are located at the center square. You need to take three lefts and then another right to reach the first one."
"Oh I see!" she exclaimed. "This place really is like a maze. It's so easy to get lost here, but at least I got you! Kensei and his boy gang are probably having trouble getting around!"
"You mean there are more of you?" Shuuhei asked. She nodded.
"I got to go find them after I'm done having my fun," she said happily, "Thanks for your help, um…?"
"Shuuhei Hisagi."
"Thanks for the help, Shuuhei!" The shinigami replied, patting his head playfully. Shuuhei tried not to scowl. "If you ever run into trouble again, just call Mashiro Kuna-nee for help!"
"Okay."
The female shinigami gave a wink before she suddenly took off in an incredible speed, leaving the boy in the dust. Shuuhei only heaved his heavy burden up before he started the journey home. He had a lot to tell his otou-san.
-o-
"….and then she whipped out her sword and threatened Yuto to do what she told him!" Shuuhei finished with a grin. His father sat beside him, chuckling.
"That is certainly one good ending!" his otou-san said. "You are very lucky to have the shinigami notice you. What did you say her name was?"
"I think it was Mashiro Kuna," he told him. "She's pretty strange, but she did help me out a lot."
"That she did," the older man agreed. "Now we have a whole year's supply of rice and soybeans."
Shuuhei nodded, before realizing something critical. "Wait, Yuto is never going to let me near his stall again. What's going to happen to us once the rice and soybeans run out?"
His father sighed. "We'll worry about that when the time comes, son. I can start searching for another potential replacement. I should have known it would have came to this." He got up from his sitting position and went outside, washing his ink-stained hands in the man-made brook.
Shuuhei took a sneak glance at the painting his father was working on, his eyes widening by the second in sheer amazement at his father's artistic talent. He took in the elegant brush strokes that made up the mountains, the hills, and the delicate tree branches with cherry blossoms. It was a masterpiece. Shuuhei wished he could paint half as good.
"Shuuhei!" his father scolded half-heartedly. "What did I say about looking at my unfinished pieces?"
"B-but there's nothing wrong with it," he insisted. "You can make money with these paintings! You don't have to just sell ink."
His father only shook his head. "There aren't many people here who have the money or interest to buy paintings. Besides, I see painting only as a hobby, not a job. It wouldn't be the same."
"Even so…" Shuuhei muttered.
"Your friend Hikaru dropped by," his father mentioned casually, his hands picking up a brush and wetting it in the assortment of inks. "He asked if you had some time to play in the afternoon. I heard Taro and Asuya will also be there. I told him you had time."
"Really? Arigato Otou-san!" Shuuhei said, embracing his father figure. His father chuckled before he ruffled his hair familiarly.
"It's not a problem, Shuuhei." He said, "Make sure you wash up and eat before you leave."
-o-
"Come on Shuuhei! You can do better than that!" Asuya taunted, watching Shuuhei dribble the ball with his legs. He stood spread out, guarding the goal intently.
Hikaru was deterring his path, before he suddenly slipped in a foot and suddenly gained control of the ball. He kicked it pass him and was running the ball towards the goal, with Taro acting as goalie.
"Taro, look out!" Shuuhei shouted, before Hikaru aimed. Taro lunged, but the ball went just pass his fingertips, thereby giving a point to the opposing team.
"Great one, Hikaru!" Asuya yelled from the other side.
"Sorry, Shuuhei," Taro muttered. "I'll try to catch the next one."
"It's alright, Taro. It's just a friendly game of football.*" He reassured him. "We'll get them back soon."
The game progressed, with Hikaru and Shuuhei scoring points before they switched positions. It was soon dusk when Asuya kicked the ball over Shuuhei too hard. The ball tumbled down the ragged hill and into the dense forest.
"I'll get it!" Asuya said, before he took off after the missing ball. Shuuhei and his two friends decided to take a break.
Their plans were interrupted when they suddenly heard Asuya's piercing scream.
"Asuya!" Shuuhei shouted before all of them ran towards his direction.
Once they ran past the dense forest and into a clearing, it took Shuuhei's entire willpower not to scream:
A hollow….Shuuhei felt his body froze in fear as he stared at the monstrosity standing just a few meters in front of him. The hollow was enormous, standing at least 50 feet, but it seemed even larger at this distance. It had the shape of a bug, with numerous thick legs and a long neck. It's hollowed out eyes regarded them carefully. Shuuhei had never met a hollow before, and few lived to tell the tale. He heard his friends shudder, stunned into silence. Shuuhei swallowed heavily, before his eyes darted to the shredded garment on the ground. There was a long bloody tear in the back. There was no soul left.
He's dead…Asuya was dead. The fact was almost surreal. He was just playing football with them just moments ago, and now he's gone for good.
If I don't get away, I'll end up like that. Shuuhei thought morbidly, before swallowing again.
The hollow approached, its footsteps sounding like thunder, and then it gave a piercing roar. At that, his two friends gave a terrified scream and stepped back a little, but like Shuuhei, their eyes were hypnotized on the hollow.
We have to run! Shuuhei's thoughts screamed at him. Yet despite his mind's intentions, his body just wouldn't budge, and he couldn't even yell due to the intense fear that had settled deep within him. He blinked, and forced his gaze onto the ground, away from the hollow. The moment he looked away, he suddenly felt his body function normally again. He gave a scream, waking Hikaru and Taro to their senses.
"RUN AWAY!" he shouted at them. "Run now! Or we're dead!"
The three of them quickly did so, with Hikaru and Taro ahead of him by a few steps. There was still a distance before he and his friends can reach the forest. Shuuhei looked behind his shoulder. The hollow was gaining on them: every one step the hollow took was equal to their three steps, and the forest was still far away. Unless…
"Run faster!" Shuuhei encouraged them. "Run faster if you want to live!"
Suddenly, Shuuhei grabbed a stray stick on the ground, holding it like a shinigami would with a sword. He didn't know why he decided to do this, but he knew that they were all going to be hollow food if someone didn't delay the monster.
Instead of attacking him with its ugly face, a purple, tentacle like thing came out and shot towards Shuuhei. He whacked the tentacle angrily. His friends suddenly stopped running, staring at him in bewilderment.
"Didn't you hear me?!" Shuuhei said, frustrated, as he continued to hit the disgusting thing away. "You have to get out of here! Run and don't stop!"
Hikaru and Taro paused for a moment, before they quickly turned their backs and starting running. Shuuhei felt relief surge in him despite his dangerous predicament. At least his friends would be okay.
No sooner had he thought of this, when he felt his body being wrapped around by a thicker tentacle. Soon, his small figure was being lifted into the air. Shuuhei screamed in horror. His whole body was being flung this way and that, the food he ate just hours prior were threatening to spill out. His head was growing dizzy, but he kept screaming anyway, in hopes that someone…anyone would notice and help.
But it seemed that Shuuhei's luck has run out. The hollow suddenly tugged him closer, getting him closer towards its mouth. Shuuhei kept screaming, his arms trying to get his body free but to no avail. He shut his eyes; tears seeped out as he was forced to accept the inevitable…
Then, his body became airborne.
Shuuhei opened his eyes in shock as his whole body, now freed of the appendage, slammed hard into the ground. What happened? As he recollected himself, he heard footsteps approaching him. He first saw a pair of sandals, and then the familiar black kimono garb, only this time, the shinigami also had on a white sleeveless overcoat. Shuuhei finally made out the face of a muscular silver-haired man. He wore elbow length black gloves, his katana fully unsheathed in his right hand.
Somehow, this shinigami felt different. Unlike the other shinigami he saw or met, Shuuhei could sense some kind of energy pulsing out of him, though he had no idea how. He carried himself with an air of certainty and confidence, like a high class individual. Almost instantly, Shuuhei knew that this shinigami was powerful.
The silver-haired shinigami soon noticed his staring and gave a grin. Shuuhei picked himself back up, his eyes not once leaving the shinigami.
"Hey hurry up and get out of here," the shinigami told him, "You don't want to die do you?"
Shuuhei stared, his mouth agape at the irony. With a grunt, Shuuhei quickly ran past the white cloaked shinigami until he was at a safe enough distance. He watched as the shinigami commanded the rest of his team.
"Men!" He yelled. "Back off!"
"Yes sir!" His squad, which consisted of four male shinigami, quickly backed away from the hollow, leaving the silver-haired shinigami with the beast.
There was a swirl of wind surging around the shinigami as he directed his sword to the ground, and Shuuhei's knees unwillingly buckle to an unknown pressure, but he kept watching.
"Now blast away…" the shinigami whispered. The wind now surged around his weapon, the length of the blade shortening and the hilt now stained black. Shuuhei felt like his body was punched, his breathing now uneven.
"TACHIKAZE!"
The shinigami gave a downward strike with his shortened blade, and numerous blasts of wind came forth, engulfing the enormous hollow. The wind surges narrowed into invisible strings and sliced through the hollow's legs and neck like it was nothing. A moment later, the hollow's whole body collapsed, causing a lot of smoke and dust to form.
Amazing…Shuuhei thought with awe, finally able to stand up properly. With just one strike, he took out the hollow like it was child's play.
With that, the shinigami had his weapon return to normal as he sheathed it once more. The rest of his squad leaped down and gathered towards their leader.
"Is everybody alright?" he said.
"Yes sir." His squad answered in unison.
Shuuhei slumped to the ground, his body still feeling weak from the pressure admitted during the shinigami's display of power. Just a week ago, he had thought of shinigami as incompetent people who cared only about their pay. Oh how wrong he was. This shinigami… was what you called a fighter, a true warrior- compared to him or even to his subordinates, Shuuhei felt so useless.
He felt his eyes well up again, and soon enough, he was sobbing: Crying about his meaningless existence. How he was always getting picked on by thugs, spent half his days starving, and then almost getting eaten. He even wondered for a moment if getting eaten would have been a better alternative than the life he had.
"Hey, what are you crying for kid?" The leader of the shinigami asked as he approached him. "At least you are alive. You should be happy."
Happy? Shuuhei scoffed mentally. I suppose I should be, since I have otou-san and my friends. My friends…they probably think I'm dead by now!
"Smile!" The shinigami demanded, "Or else!"
"That's a bit much don't you think?" One of his subordinates reprimanded.
"No, I don't," his leader said as he walked over and tugged his body back up. "Come on, stand up!"
Shuuhei did, his tear-stained eyes looking at the shinigami warily, before wiping them away hastily. He didn't want to appear pathetic in front of them, though it was pointless since Shuuhei couldn't will the tears to stop.
"So what's your name anyway huh?" The shinigami asked.
"S-Shuuhei H-Hisagi," he finally said; his voice uneven.
"Shuuhei Hisagi," the shinigami repeated. "A mighty strong sounding name…Stop crying!" He snapped.
Shuuhei felt his throat hitch before he suddenly bawled. He was so pathetic right now…he couldn't even live up to his own name.
"What are you crying about now, kid?" he demanded. "I said stop crying! You got to be kidding me."
"Kensei!" A familiar sing-song voice said. Shuuhei didn't look up, but he knew who it was instantly.
"Mashiro," the shinigami- Kensei- said, confirming her identity. "Where the hell did you go during the battle-?!"
"Listen, when I was hiding in the bushes, look what I found on the ground!" Mashiro interrupted quickly, not seeming to care what Kensei had said. She also didn't seem to notice him either, Shuuhei thought, and he was glad about that. He didn't want her to see him like this.
She held up a spare shinigami uniform. "See? A squad uniform!"
Kensei gave a surprised gasp, as did the rest of his squad.
"There was a whole bunch of them- Ten of them!" Mashiro continued.
"Ten…uniforms…" Kensei repeated, his voice bordering on shock.
"Captain, they must be…" His subordinate trailed off.
"What? What? Is ten important or something? Well?" Mashiro said impatiently.
"You're such an idiot," Kensei muttered. Mashiro looked up at him. "Ten…that was the number of shinigami sent out in the advance party!"
Shuuhei dried his eyes, suddenly interested in what Kensei was saying. Mashiro had asked a question, while Kensei gave a morbid answer concerning the disappearances.
"…how could they have taken them off with the sash still tied?" Kensei pointed out, "How could they remove their sandals with the socks still on?" When no one answered him, Kensei started to bark orders to each of his officers, and once again, Shuuhei felt his admiration for Kensei grow. He was clearly disturbed by the news, yet he didn't let his unease get in the way. He knew exactly what needed to be done, and his subordinates knew that. Kensei was a natural leader.
"Hey kid," Kensei said, turning to him. Shuuhei blinked in surprise at the sudden address. "You should go home quickly before it gets dark. Understand kid?"
Shuuhei didn't reply. He was too busy staring at a strange symbol on the man's bare torso. Shuuhei wasn't completely literate, but he could make out the standard numbers 6 and 9. If Kensei had those numbers tattooed to his skin…it must hold a special meaning for him.
Kensei only threw him a glance before he turned away from him, with Mashiro and one of his subordinates walking beside him.
"You weren't really serious about the whole 'camping out' were you, Kensei?" Mashiro whined. "I'm not really a 'tent person'."
"Sorry," Kensei replied bluntly, not sounding apologetic at all. "We're all out of four-star hotels."
Soon, the three shinigami disappeared from view. Shuuhei stayed transfixed in his spot a moment longer. He noticed that the hollow's remains had already disintegrated. He let out a breath, not believing how lucky he was to still be alive.
Speaking of…Shuuhei's eyes suddenly widened. His otou-san! He must be sick with worry. He quickly took off in a mad dash, the clearing completely bare once again.
-o-
Shuuhei had been right, his father was sick with worry.
When Shuuhei had appeared in front of his house, he discovered that his friends were also there, having just told his father of his untimely 'death'. His father, upon seeing him, instantly embraced him tightly, sobbing in relief. Hikaru was wiping away tears while Taro asked him questions about what had happened.
"The shinigami saved my life," he told them. He told them all about Kensei and his team, and then he added his meeting with Mashiro earlier when she appeared after the battle. Hikaru and Taro were awestruck, and then they quickly expressed their thanks to him for saving their lives. They later mentioned how they had already informed Asuya's family and they were now in mourning. Shuuhei reminded himself to pay them his respects.
Eventually his friends left, and his father insisted that he check Shuuhei for possible injuries. Just to keep his father from worrying even further, Shuuhei consented.
It was late into the night when Shuuhei finally settled into bed. He closed his eyes. The whole day's events had exhausted him more than he realized, and sleep quickly took over.
Unbeknownst to the house's occupants, the usually tightly closed shutter suddenly flung open…
And a deathly cold wind breezed through the room.
-o-
* Rukongai is written to be taking place during the Edo period. Football (or soccer) only become prominent during the Meiji Restoration, but to make the story flow more easily I adjusted a few changes.
