Paradox of Nihilism

Shojohime

The katana's blade became an inch or two shorter and turned pure white. The tsuba and hilt glittered silver and gold with a spiraling lotus pattern that bore a distinct resemblance to Shojohime's crown.

The Visoreds were all laughing – loudly. Hiyori was close to passing out she was laughing so hard. "Virgin princess?" the blond girl howled. "Your zanpakuto's name is virgin princess? Kid, you have to be good at zanjutsu – you'll never be respected as a Shinigami otherwise."

Shinji chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, absentmindedly running his tongue piercing over his teeth. It was probably weird that he found the whole 'virgin princess' thing to be both a challenge and a turn on. Inside the back of his thoughts, Sakanade stirred. "Yer totally justified, Shinji. Shojohime is a complete hottie. Do us both a favor and nail the girl!"

Misao felt a rush of lust travel up her spine and glanced around, trying to ascertain who it was from. If it was Shoka…she didn't want to know… She caught Shinji's eye: he grinned that wide, scary smile and winked at her. She colored slightly as that same shot of arousal began to make her lower belly glow in a not entirely unpleasant way. Misao carefully constructed a frown and aimed it at him.

Shinji grinned wider and licked his lips, flashing his piercing at her with the movement of his tongue.

She looked away, turning her back to him. He had to have known his emotion was going to affect her. Even now her heart was racing frantically. Idiot, she scolded herself, pinching herself in the thigh to make the absurd feeling go away. Don't get flustered by the fantasies of perverts.

Clearing her throat, Misao said "She's not just a decoration, you know. Shojohime is powerful."

"Prove it." Shinji grinned at her crookedly. "Fight me."

She looked reluctant.

"Oh, c'mon now, don' make that face." he coaxed. "I'll even fight ya without my shikai, I promise."

Shoka nudged her. "That sounds like a fair fight, right?"

Both Love and Rose shook their heads.

Hiyori snorted. "You wish. Shinji would have to be deaf and blind. Even then, the odds are still in his favor. He's a dickhead, but he's a dickhead who used to be the taicho of the 5th Division."

Misao looked at Shoka, who was suddenly gripping her arm very hard. "What does that mean?"

Her brother's grip was actually starting to hurt. "I'll explain it to you later." Shoka said lowly. "Just do your best. You won't be able to beat this guy, but try your hardest anyway."

Shinji grinned at him. "Nervous, Shoka? I won't give her any scars or hurt her face. Visored's honor."

Misao gripped Shojohime's hilt, her fingers curved into claws with anger. She wanted to swear at him for that. Don't talk about me as if I'm a possession.

"Smile."

Shinji jerked in surprise at the sound of her voice, but had to immediately dodge the crescent of pale pink energy aimed straight at his head. In her monotonous voice, Misao responded "I suggest you concentrate on your own face rather than worrying about mine."

She felt his excitement thrash around her inside her chest. That grin came back and Shinji's eyes danced. "I think yer a bit of a wildcat under all that cool, darlin'." he drawled, letting her see how his eyes lingered on her a bit too long. He lowered his voice to a whisper only she would hear. "I'd like ta make ya hot."

Her flat, pale eyes looked back at him blankly. Tonelessly, she replied "Aren't you a little old for me, Hirako-san? Smile."

Shojohime flashed as she sliced the white blade through the air, forming the soft pink crescent of energy off the end of the blade. He stepped out of the attack's path, watching it leave a clean slice in the warehouse's metal siding – and tearing through the building behind it, too. Luckily, it wasn't a very large attack – just extremely sharp and painful-looking. "That woulda hurt, I think." he commented, aiming to slice her arm off. "I'm not exactly atta point where age counts, y'know? Bein' dead an' all."

Her katana blocked Sakanade, preventing him from taking her left arm off at the shoulder. He used his strength to bend the block back until the tip nearly touched her cheek. She had to shove hard to push him away. "Smile."

This time, he didn't dodge fast enough and a deep but small cut opened in his side. It began to bleed furiously.

She blinked at him. "First blood."

She expected to feel his anger but instead, he felt kind of…thrilled. Or maybe she did. Even now, she felt the adrenaline of the moment focusing her senses, sharpening her vision. This time, she didn't wait for him to come at her; she charged him, aiming to open that cut she gave him.

He blocked, flinging her zanpakuto back and leaving an opening for him to take. She spoke without thinking. "Protect your virtue!"

Sakanade met the hard surface of…a flower? A shell now enclosed Misao and it looked precisely like the petals of a lotus flower.

Shinji grinned. Lotus flowers were open at the top.

But she was waiting for him, like a little bee in that flower. "Smile!"

"Woah." he huffed, darting away from Shojohime's cutting attack just fast enough to stop his legs from being chopped off at the knees.

The lotus drifted off into particles, leaving her there, eyes now carrying the faintest of sparkles.

Shinji decided that he liked that sparkle.

"Smile!"

However, he was beginning to hate that word.

He ducked under the assault and swept under her. She did manage to keep her internal organs, but didn't manage to stop him from throwing her into a wall. "Uh!" She gasped as she felt the air being pushed from her lungs at the force of the impact. She landed on her back, wincing at the unhealed bruises still there from Shoka throwing her into cement becoming even more painful. "Ouch."

Shinji watched the blood drain from her face as she suddenly sagged against him, beautiful sexual tension totally ruined. "Alright, that's enough. Hachi," he called. "She needs help."

"That answers the question 'do injuries on my body effect my spirit?'." Shoka sighed, lifting his sister's body so that she could merge with it without bending down.

Misao lifted the back of her shirt, ignoring Shinji's sudden over-attention. "How bad is it, Shoka-nii?"

"Bad." Shoka said, wincing. Her back was marred with huge, fantastically colored bruises. "Did I do this?"

"No, he did this." Shinji had the feeling this wasn't the first time they had a conversation like this one, judging from the look of pained guilt on Shoka's face.

"If you lie down here, Misao-san," Hachi gestured helpfully. "I can heal any injuries you have incurred."

With her brother's help, she obeyed, slowly and painfully laying down on the cold concrete with her shirt lifted in the back to expose her huge bruises. Shinji sat next to her as the others bid their various goodnights. Misao waved her brother away, because although she knew he loved her, his hovering was becoming irritating. "It's fine!"

As Hachi began setting up the healing barrier around them, Shinji untucked his torn dress shirt and unbuttoned the lower half, slipping the fabric aside to reveal the deep cut she'd given him on his side.

When she spotted the first glimpse of naked flesh, Misao closed her eyes. She knew what he was trying to do and she knew that it wasn't going to work. Unfortunately for this persistent fetcher, she was fairly certain she wasn't programmed for…that.

Although she would never admit it to anyone, Misao had a very deep, very possible fear. She was afraid that she was actually incapable of most emotions. She could synthesize the whole plethora of other people's emotions, but her own were rather limited. It was only the big ones that got through – fear, anger, sometimes joy, shock, grief, love. At least, familial love. She'd loved her parents. She loved Shoka.

But once she was by herself, everything just went away. It was all emptiness. It was like spending your whole life with music in the background and then suddenly turning it off one day. The silence she felt – the emptiness – sometimes made her feel physically ill. As a child, if she were left alone for more than ten minutes, her guardian would come back to find her in hysterical tears. Shoka just learned to take her with him wherever he went as a matter of course.

Misao twitched as she felt someone's fingertips gently skimming her spine. Her forehead wrinkled as she frowned, but she didn't bother opening her eyes. "What are you doing?"

Shinji chuckled and she had to force her lips to stay still to keep his amusement from affecting her. She noticed that his emotions were rather…potent. "I'm touchin' ya. Can't ya tell? Well, an' makin' sure ya aren't fallin' asleep on me."

"You're a pervert." she said matter-of-factly.

"Tsk, tsk, darlin'. Appreciatin' the female form is not perversion. It's the ability to appreciate beauty. It's a form of art."

Is this guy for real? She raised her eyebrows. He makes himself sound so plausible. But… "I don't buy it. Sorry."

"That hurts, Misao-chan." Her bra was lace. Bright pink and orange lace. It was…unexpectedly cute. This girl sometimes reminded him of a grown businesswoman and sometimes a little girl. He placed his hand underneath the strap, just between her shoulder blades, so she could feel the heat of his hand seeping into her skin. She tensed slightly, but he didn't move his hand any more than that.

He didn't actually intend to do anything to her – he was just playing with her. Besides, she had his curiosity up. What manner of person lurked underneath those flat eyes and that bored voice?

If Misao had learned one thing with the way she was required to live her life, it was that you couldn't change the way a person feels. You can change their opinions, their ideas, their beliefs – and that may cause their emotions to change. But you could not change the emotions themselves. That said, she already knew there was nothing she could do to destroy the arousal Shinji apparently felt whenever she was around.

Of course, that didn't mean she was going to encourage him. Even if the intensity of his lust made her skin burn in a strangely pleasant way.

She was just going to have to destroy the idea or belief behind it.

His fingertips pressed firmly into her flesh and rubbed all the way down her back until they met the band of her skirt. She tensed as the desire began to reach from her stomach to her breasts. She'd felt second-hand arousal before, but to her knowledge, it had never actually been directed at herself.

Shinji leaned over. "Your bruises are gone." he whispered in the shell of her ear, his breath stirring her dark hair.

Incredible, she thought wildly, it getting even worse. This man is a fiend! It didn't just burn along her skin – it felt like it was going to melt her insides. She kept her eyes closed, disciplining herself against any action. Do not feed into his delusion. You do not have anything he wants.

Shinji held back a hiss as her lips parted slowly. She seemed almost half asleep. Until she pointedly dislodged his hand and pulled the back of her shirt down again. She pushed herself from the floor and walked away. "Goodnight, Hirako-san."

He may have been the one with the boner, but nothing could hide the blush on her cheeks as she left.