A/N: Alright, so, third chapter up and running. I'm aiming for a bit of plot somewhere in here, not to worry— But as things progress I might need some encouragement so if you've got any ideas for 'filler' chapters, bring them on!
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The next time she would see him, she was going to kick his ass.
The only problem was that when she did hear from him next, that oath had been the last thing on her mind.
A week had passed since the deformed reiatsu seemed to have vanished and yet even with no further sight of that gate or any of its sources, some things were definitely still off.
First of all, Ichigo Kurosaki and his friends have been much jumpier ever since their attempt to trample her in the middle of the street. They've also been avoiding her, from what she could tell- then again, maybe their reluctance to spill their life story to a stranger she could be more lenient toward.
The second issue was subjectively much more pressing, considering it had to do with her own wellbeing rather than the antics of the local child reaper and his buddies.
Denial aside, a part of Layla had known her spiritual pressure was rather unimpressive (practically nonexistent, really,) on the day she'd woken up in the human world, her power and zanpakuto vanished in favor of an overly cheery shop keeper shoving a rubber suit in her face. But after her spout of protesting it, and a few good minutes of being freaked out by the thing as she stared into its dead, soulless eyes, that was done with. And she left. And she assimilated with the humans, finding herself a home and whatever work she could at that time.
This reality began to gradually change after the night when a particular fifteen year old boy gained himself some shiny new shinigami powers.
She could feel it every time he came into the shop. Slowly but surely, the flare of battles reached her ears too, so to speak. And of course the further her soul has been influenced by these raging pressures the better she could see again. The better she could feel. With all those realizations came the frustrating thoughts that it just wasn't enough, however- what good was seeing evil when you had no chance of doing anything about it? There was another little problem with just seeing, too.
It turned out only a few days more were necessary until her recovering strength was enough to attract unwanted attention.
Run.
The street was mostly silent at this point in the day. No children were out roaming the streets- not very many adults were, either. The winter was looming nearer with a bite to it, and although there were still a good couple of months of autumn to survive through, this year already promised for a rough one. Temperatures were dropping weekly, and icy winds came with them, creeping into coat sleeves and scratching their way into the collar of anyone who had forgotten their scarves. Actually she was one of those very people just then, with the day's prognosis being rather fair at the time she was leaving for work.
All such thoughts were the last of her worries at that moment, however. Because with her heart thundering in her ears, her breath coming in measured but scratchy gasps and the slapping of her shoes against the cement pavement, current weather didn't even cross her mind at all. At this pace her entire body felt like it was on fire, her skin rejecting the iciness of the wind and her cramping muscles eliminating any discomfort it would have otherwise caused.
Faster-
And then there was the screaming. Not hers of course- truthfully, there was no spare air left at her disposal to do that.
But the hollow hot on her heels sure seemed like it had plenty to waste with the ear piercing wail that split the silence not a moment after.
Gain some distance. Reevaluate.
Find its weak spot. Live.
It would have to be one hell of a weak spot for her to take advantage of though, with no weapon nor any actual powers at her disposal. Theoretically, she could try and use brute force.. would it be enough? Would she even manage to land a hit? But with the way to her home quickly shortening and the larger streets turning more narrow, she was running out of options.
And she was running out of breath, too.
Hoping against every bit of logic in her it was at the next turn that Layla had skidded to a halt, using the momentum to let her body pirouette into facing the thing. In its hunger and rush to get at her, it did not expect such a sharp turn and with the faulty move found itself colliding into a lamp post just at the corner of the street. Needless to say the flimsy piece of metal stood no chance, the electric bulb crackling as its light died out.
The relative silence which lasted for the next few seconds was spoiled only with her ragged breathing (her own heart thumping in her ears), and the low rumble that rolled at the back of the hollow's throat. She could see it clearer than ever, the slanted yellow eyes that hid in the darkness of that mask, the teeth that seemed almost human, perfect contradiction to its grotesque form and the famished stare it watched her with. The seconds passed, one by one, and the tension built further in the air as both beings watched, trying to predict the next move... Or maybe savoring the last moment of a hunt before they finally had their meal.
Either way, there was no chance for her to flee any more. The hollow was too close, she wouldn't be able to gain enough distance to make it. She couldn't stay and wait for the local shinigami to arrive, either.
But she wanted to live.
She had to live.
A dark, thick arm swiped at her not a moment later and as it swiped overhead Layla could feel her knees give a displeased throb where she dropped on them much too quickly. The passing attack had been too close to take her time though- so close in fact that she could have sworn the energy packed behind that strike left a mark on her after all, a crackle of spiritual pressure remaining on her skin even when the woman skittered out from under the again retreating limb- back to her feet to gain some distance.
But it didn't attack another time. The air around them seemed to ripple slightly, almost throbbing with the pressure that was building but the very nature of that pressure made her pause, too- it didn't feel right, didn't feel like the sort of energy a hollow would give out.
'You've really let yourself go, haven't you?'
Having the tension snapped so suddenly had nearly sent her off her feet again in shock. Recovering from that jolt, however, Layla's eyes darted off to the right, but with no one in sight they shifted left. No one again. Confusion only had a brief window to linger before those gray eyes were forced to shift right back to the monster anyway, as with those few moments of wonder passing it seemed the creature was ready to attack again, a screech rippling through its throat as it stood on stumpy back legs, those scarily massive arms tossed right at her instead.
This attack seemed much slower than the previous. Her legs straightened to jog a few steps back, avoiding the initial swipe— until the shock wave created by the impact of hollow to pavement made the latter rumble, and the small woman trying to stand on it lose some balance. Pressing a hand to the now chipped concrete, Layla turned wide eyes right back up just in time to catch it barreling forward again.
Right. At. Her.
'For the love of god, would you move?'
The urging tone hissing against the confines of her skull was enough. It zipped through like flames atop the fuse of a rocket, sparking up the energy in her needed for action. And she did- although in retrospect, maybe not in the brightest of ways, not when facing with something this hungry and huge, which happened to also be lumbering ahead right at you.
Yet the moment when her shoes dug into the pavement, and her body tilted to allow her to draw back a fist, there was no doubt within her at all.
There was a bone chilling crack splintering through the midnight air when the collision came.
Which was basically how she had wound up here, sitting at the edge of the bath of her small apartment, teeth sinking into the skin of her lower lip and a hiss just past those when the sting registered. In retrospect, maybe that particular move hadn't been the brightest. Like, at all. Her busted knuckles were enough of an indicator of that, the split skin already caked with blood and congealing, yellowish plasma by the time that she had returned home.
And damn it, cleaning it all off sure stung. Passing the damp cloth over the wounds again made her lip curl up, but even the lingering, buzzing sting under her skin wasn't the worst of it. That thing managed to escape. Sure, her hit earned it a nice thick crack right through its mask- and yet it ran, squealing in pain, and disappearing much too quickly for her to follow.
Not that she would, considering how little she's been able to do to fend it off.
'That's because someone has been slacking—'
"Shut up." Oh. Right. There was also that reason why. Because whatever dark hole he had dug out for himself to hide in turned uncovered in that fight, whatever tricks he'd relied on to keep her away have just expired. Because now, now that her soul was buzzing into life again she was going to come after him, just as promised. Beat him down and into submission just as it was meant to be, return whatever favor he borrowed all those years ago.
'Heh,' His voice was unbelievably annoying too, even after having been alone in her head for so long. Overly smooth and so pleasant, she could just imagine his pretty smile while the jerk was cackling at her. 'I'd like to see you fight me with that hand.' Sadly it was only the cold tile floor that got the brunt of her glare then.
But he did have a point.
Curling the injured fist at her side and letting it loosen when the ache settled in, Layla turned her attention to bandaging the poor limb up as best as she could. The soreness wasn't as bad as the rust built up in her bones from such long years of inactivity anyway. The occasional run or workout did nothing for swordplay, and it was lacking in that particular skill which worried her in these plans in the first place. She would need to brush up on it, but even that couldn't take longer than two days, right? Three at most. Three days, at the end of which she would take the reigns back and be able to—
The roll of bandages halted briefly from where it was being pulled tighter around her fingers. She would take control over her powers, and... what then? Stay here, join Kurosaki in his duties protecting this town? Or would she be able to return to her previous post? The world grew blurry for a moment when she shook that thought off.
Whatever the consequences, she'd had to win first.
"Because you're mine."
Which also meant she needed to see Urahara again.
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A/N: Phew. So the plot is beginning to roll in, and with the next chapter we will return to the 'main plotline' while Layla also hopefully gains herself a proper training partner? Either way, familiar things (and unfamiliar things,) will be afoot and as always critique and comments are welcome.