"Thanks, Hitsugaya-Taichou, I'll take it from here." The fellow ebony-haired female smiled with a respectful nod.
Hitsugaya—er, Toushirou—looked skeptical, so I sneaked a wink at him to hopefully calm him. My efforts were futile—ever since day three with this guy, he stopped falling for my persuasion tactics. I could still sway anyone else that crossed my path into believing whatever crock of lies tickled my fancy, but this fucking Romeo was now immune to my tactics—much to my dismay. Maybe it was because of those disturbing emotions he sent me in every time he looked at me? Kami only knows.
Granted, I didn't blame him for being skeptical at all; after last night with what happened, I'm sure that he didn't want me too far out of reach. Even though I told him that what happened was entirely not his fault, I feel as if he's still taking it upon himself. I couldn't figure out how to convince him other than straight up saying the obvious, but clearly that didn't work. I felt terrible that he felt terrible—all around this was a vicious cycle of guilt that was absolutely awful.
"I'll leave the two of you then; please have someone escort her back to my office when you're through, Abarai-Taichou," Toushirou nodded back.
"Of course, Hitsugaya-Taichou," she complied.
"See you soon, Hitsugaya-Taichou," I bowed respectfully.
If it wasn't for my actual Taichou being here, I would've dismissed him with my usual snobbery, but I had to make a good impression to my technical boss. Today should be interesting.
Toushirou left the room after a quick assessing glance at me, and Abarai-Taichou turned back to her desk as soon as the door shut. She took out a key and a folded paper from her drawer, then shut it gently as she looked up at me. I averted my gaze after a quick nod—I suddenly felt like I was being disrespectful. Damn my observant nature.
"You don't have to be so stiff," she walked back around her desk and to my flank, handing me the paper. "I don't bite…unless I have a good reason to," she smiled softly, yet with a hint of playfulness in her tone.
I let a small chuckle slip. "I'm glad; I don't like it when people are too stiff to be around," I admitted.
"I agree," she began as she strutted to the door—I followed suit. "That paper is your bank account information; Ise-Fukutaichou was able to unfreeze your funds. I'll show you how to handle everything in a little while."
"Thank you; I appreciate it."
"No problem at all." We rounded the corner and proceeded down the hallway. "Since we're on the topic of stiff behavior, I'll go first in the normal introductory measures. I was originally from the Rukongai, and was adopted into nobility during my attendance in the academy. Aiding my prior statement, with the honor came people that are far too stiff for their own good. I was pretty nervous at first, but after a while I learned how to address them in every aspect properly, and gained some additional beneficial mannerisms along the way. But I'll be honest—stiff nature just isn't a comfortable way of life. It's nice to just be yourself, and surround yourself around like-minded individuals."
Well damn. I knew the blatantly obvious, but she was nobility on top or that? Good Kami—the poor thing. While riches might be nice, overall having to put up with that type of insane stick-constantly-up-your-ass culture must be the most annoying thing in the world. At least she kept her wits about her, and she's able to distinguish tact versus snobbery. Although, feigning snob tendencies is definitely fun if you're messing with people.
"I see. I can imagine that adapting to that level of social standards must've been difficult. It's great that you've still managed to not let that type of behavior consume you." I commented.
"Thank you," she said as we rounded the hallway. "You're up, Kiteyama-san; tell me a little about yourself."
Oh good Kami.
"Uh, well, to be honest—I'm still trying to figure that out. I'm naturally sassy with a not-so-tactful personality by default, but lately with everything going on, I feel as if I'm molding into a completely different person. Aside from what you already know about me, I suppose the only thing that I can really say is that I like Sugi trees and have always dreamt of relaxing in a nice onsen. Other than that, I've got nothing." I shrugged.
She chuckled—not giggled; chuckled—at my blunt response, and I gulped down my anxious reaction.
"You forgot to add humorous to your personality traits—I like it." She smiled. "Well, now that you're here, you'll finally have the opportunity to figure things out, and let good-willed people mold you into the person you yourself want to be. Sugi trees are rather nice; I haven't seen them since the last time I was in the Rukongai now that I've been reminded of it. Now I might just have to make a visit,"
Her eased aura helped my own tense one simmer down into a more manageable display, and as we continued to walk down the corridors of Squad 13's main operational infrastructure, I started to actually feel more comfortable around my future Taichou. While she displayed warmth and understanding as her two main personality traits, I felt as if there was a firm resolve behind them that made her suitable to her position; an aura of authority with traces of eloquence and keen intellect that would make her bite venomous if she were ever prompted. I liked that about her; she seemed able to handle her affairs with the tact of an amiable monarch, yet was able to evoke dread if one ever took advantage of her kind words. The ability to evoke said dread and borderline fear honestly sort of thrilled me. People who were able to accomplish that feat without the use of blatant threats honestly were inspirational. Would I ever evolve to that level? Nah, it's too much fun turning the tables and sarcastically—yet intelligently—beating people at their own game in a harsh, barbaric tactic.
Abarai-Taichou explained the different sections of our Sqaud along with the responsibilities of each, and I did my best to commit everything to memory for my future self's sake. I knew I'd get it down eventually, but the thought of getting it all down on the first try seemed like it would be the one savory victory that I could manage to accomplish during this shit show. If I could just let myself have one, then everything that's been happening wouldn't be a total defeat for me.
"Here we are," she side-stepped toward the building to our right, and took out the key she'd taken out of her desk drawer earlier.
"It took me a few days to dig through the some documents, but I finally was able to find out which part of this storage area your prior belongings are stored in. My apologies for the delay," she turned the key, and opened the door upon the deadbolt's submission.
"No, don't be; thanks for finding out for me."
The building on the outside seemed rather large compared to the dumpy little shack like I was expecting. The first room we entered had different equipment scattered about; from cleaning supplies to grounds upkeep and other random oddities that felt pointless to question. We continued forward and through the door at the end of the room; going down the fluorescently lighted hallway and into the following room.
"This is where we keep the archive of the Division's documents. If I ever send you on an archive run, this would be the place," she motioned to the first large filing cabinet.
"Noted." I nodded before we continued.
This room gave me a weird office claustrophobia—something I never expected to have in my type of life—and I already was ready to just weave through. There was a clear path between some of the many towering metal cabinets, and I quickly kept up closely behind her to hurry up and get out of there.
"I take it Matsumoto-Fukutaichou's heavy disapproval of paperwork has started rubbing off on you?"
I didn't realize just how close I was to her until we were already at the door—it took a toll on my mental fortitude to prevent the sheepish smile from appearing on my face
"It isn't that I dislike it; it's just so much of it and in so many cabinets that I feel like they'll collapse down and kill me. I'd hate to go down as the one shinigami that died from a horrid paperwork accident. How disgraceful would that be? I'm assuming the graves here are the same ones in the World of the Living; I'd hate for mine to have some horrible pun like 'she was a bit of a paper-pusher' written on it. I mean you can keep it comical, but that's pushing it even for me." I shrugged—she laughed.
"Well, dying from one of those cabinets falling would at least be infinitely less painful than dying during a battle, so there's the upside for this unlikely situation," She strutted through the hallway and quickly made it to the door. "I'm impressed though; I can't say I've ever known anyone else that's as observant and prepared for the unlikely. If your preventative ways cease to bear results and that does happen, I'll make sure your headstone doesn't say anything too ridiculous." She grinned.
"You have my thanks," I smirked.
This room was different. It reminded me moreover of a spacious library for some reason, but this was definitely the storage area I was expecting from the beginning. She proceeded to walk through to one of the cases, and traced her fingertips along the edges of pale wood that separated each compartment as her eyes searched thoroughly.
"Does it—"
"Found it!"
She reached into a compartment slightly above us, and pulled down a small, plum colored tin container. It was roughly about the size of a large dining plate, and had a paper seal along the side of it as a small extra seal to support the lid.
"This contains the remnants of your belongings they found in your residence. I tried to see if there was anything else stored elsewhere, but unfortunately this was the only finding I was able to come up with." She explained.
"Please, this is enough. Thank you for going through the effort for me, Abarai-Taichou," I bowed to her with actual sincerity. I had fully expected to come back to nothing, but this little remnant I was about to rummage through made me feel slightly 'lighter' for lack of a better word. As if some of the heavy aura of being completely in the dark was lifted just a fraction.
"You're welcome, Kiteyama-san. It was no trouble at all. Would you like to open it now? I can step out so you can have a moment," she offered.
"No, that's okay. You don't have to leave when I open it—it isn't any trouble. I feel like my past self wouldn't have anything horrendous to hide, and I'm sure that since someone had to collect this stuff that it isn't too out there." I shrugged. "I can wait until later; I'm sure that you have other business to attend to, so maybe it would be better if we started heading back."
"Sure; I still want to show you around a bit more since we're already on a tour. It's better to do that this early in the day before I get busy in the afternoon anyway," she smiled.
"After you, Taichou,"
-x-x-
"So are you just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna open it?" Rangiku peered over my shoulder.
I was back in Toushirou's office now; Rangiku taking hold of the back support of the couch I sat on and leaning over me to inspect the plum box of my mystery belongings. Toushirou was at his desk doing some paperwork, but I knew better than to assume he wasn't keeping an open ear on the two of us.
"I'm gonna do it right now; patience, patience," I slid my fingertips on the rimmed lip if the tin's lid; observing the black painted brushstrokes that gave the container an elegant touch.
I assumed that it was my prior self that picked this box, and it sort of made me happy that I had the same taste now even with the memory loss.
"Yes, I've heard it's a virtue, but it's one I don't have. Hurry, hurry!"
"Fine," I huffed in fake annoyance.
I took off the lid, and zeroed in on the miscellaneous objects within. A few hair accessories—one of which I recognized from the photo—a small book, a folded obi-looking juniper cloth, some spare currency, and a pair of chopsticks.
"Well this is really intriguing—I seem like I was quite the mysterious individual," I shook my head.
Rangiku reached over me and seized the haircomb from the tin. "Well, at least we know that you had good taste in your accessory choices—I've seen some distasteful haircombs in my day, and luckily these ones all meet acceptable criteria." She smiled as she studied it.
"Looks like if we'd known each other back then, you more than likely would've been fond of me." I smirked.
"More than likely!" she winked.
I took out the green cloth and unraveled it next. It was a bit thicker than an actual obi now that I looked at it, and the ends of each side seemed to have slightly stretched fabric; as if an after-effect from heavy strain. The color reminded me of something that I couldn't put my finger on.
"That's for your zanpakutou," Rangiku broke my wondering thoughts.
"Ah," I looked over at my zanpakutou I'd set down on the ground next to me. The hilt of it was the exact same color as the fabric in my hand—I knew I'd seen it somewhere before.
"You more than likely kept it in case, but settled on the current style—it's always a good tactic to keep it even if you don't use it. You never know when you'll change your mind." She set the haircomb back into the tin, and took out another.
"That makes sense," I mindlessly commented as I set it back into the tin.
I took out the small book next; noticing there was no title, and no brief synopsis on either outside cover. It was a hard-back rather than paper-back; an earth brown, cloth-type of fabric covering it and coated with a waxy-matte that molded it to the paper for durability. The inside of the cover had a—once white—yellow paper glued to cover where the fabric ended, and I rubbed my thumb over the noticeable glue that stuck it together. Moving on, I lightly thumbed through the first couple of blank pages until fine, black brush strokes caught my eye.
I froze. I stared at the page at a complete loss; my thoughts racing to formulate some type of sense.
"Akinoyo-chan?" Rangiku hesitantly called.
After a few seconds of my lack of response, I heard movement behind me, but all I could focus on was the script on the page. The handwritten, foreign characters that seemed to carry such weighted, yet unknown significance in my life—the same language written on the key tag.
"Is there anything you're able to make out?" Toushirou asked from behind me.
I quickly flipped and scanned through the pages. "None of this is Japanese; I can't make out a single thing."
I reached the end of the book and shut it. For whatever reason, looking at it made me extremely uncomfortable. Granted, I had no idea what it said, but just the thought of having this in my possession before everything went down scared me. Just what in the Hell was this supposed to mean?
"Akinoyo, can I have a look?" Toushirou asked.
I lifted the book up over my head, and he took it immediately. I focused in on the hollow, light patter his fingers made on the cover made as he opened it, and the soft shifting sound the paper made as he flipped through the pages.
"What does this mean?" Rangiku asked. It made sense—she didn't see what was on the tag of that stupid, confining piece of metal.
"There was a paragraph written in a foreign language on the tag of the key that bound her to the bracelet. This is all written in what appears to be the same language." Toushirou explained.
"Where is the tag now?" she asked.
"It should be with Kurotsuchi still; they were supposed to try and decipher the language and return it to us with their results." He lightly closed the book; the subtle clap of it causing me to blink from the surprise sound. "It's been a few days; I think a visit is in order—especially with this new information. Is there anything else that looks abnormal in your possessions?"
I shook my head.
"Then let's take this to Research and Development immediately," he walked around the couch, and made his way to the door. "Matsumoto, please give Abarai-Taichou, and Ise-Fukutaichou the memo."
"You got it." Rangiku grabbed her zanpakutou and took off.
I took my own, and weaved it through my obi as quickly as I could for the patiently waiting Toushirou at the door. With heavy feet, I made my way to him, and he closed the door and locked it after us.
"Ready?" He asked—I nodded. He picked me up; carefully maneuvering me so that my zanpakutou wouldn't make either of us uncomfortable as I hesitantly placed my hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?" he asked right before take off.
I turned my face into his collarbone as I always did to avoid the whiplash; the rejuvenating scent of him eased me just slightly, yet just enough to rethink the emotion I displayed. This uncontrolled anxiety and panic was honestly getting on my nerves. While it's understandable, it didn't make it acceptable. He'd said to let others in—er, himself actually—and he was right, but in order to do that, ones own self-control seemed completely necessary before that could ever be attainable. And while just looking at the words in that book made me want to be the crumbled crybaby I've been for the past week or so, I knew that I had to knock it off. Shit, I didn't even know what the damn thing said and I already wanted to melt down. This shit was downright unhealthy. My zanpakutou was right—just where the fuck did my pride go?
"Nothing; I'm okay." I quickly mumbled.
He didn't say anything at first, and I could feel his body tense at his disbelief in my statement. I squeezed the flexed shoulder muscle I already gripped with two quick, light squeezes.
"Trust me for once,"
He mirrored my action on the grip he had on my upper arm. "Convince me, and I'll think about it."
"Fair enough."
We landed, and he let me down gently. I kept a hand on his shoulder while my land-legs regained control, and once they did, he opened the huge doors in front of us and ushered me inside. Immediately we were confronted by what kind of seemed like security, but also a white-lab-coated scientific looking guy. Maybe both? Regardless, he bowed out of respect of Toushirou's status, and had us follow him into the dimly lit, and all around hostile-feeling building.
I hardly ever was able to watch any movies, but when I was working in the Diner one day when there were hardly any customers, Nobu put on some scary movie that's borderline identical to this place. It was set in some sort of psychiatric hospital, and even though I could hardly hear it—let alone get close enough to read the subtitles—the way the place was designed was very unpleasant to look at. The further I walked down this hallway, the more I was reminded of that film; the weird sounds coming from some of the 'offices' we passed weren't helping either. Toushirou didn't seem fazed at all; I assumed this place was normal given the lack of reaction, but was this really all that acceptable?
The scientific guard dog opened one of the doors, and held it open for us to pass through. Once we were both in, he passed the two of us and proceeded forward. As my eyes followed along with his movements, my peripheral caught sight of literal monstrosity. I hadn't done a triple-take at something since my discovery of a fucking electric standing fan at the super market.
All along the walls were medium sized viles preserving alien-like creatures. I honestly only thought creatures like them existed in my own obscure, drug-induced nightmares and weird B-rated Horror films, but here I was—proven wrong by the agonized and tormented expressions on these grotesque creatures.
I tried to fight it, but my hand covered my mouth while my eyes flickered back and forth as we walked. Taking a small, barely noticeable step, Toushirou nudged me gently to refocus my attention forward. I dropped my hand and took a deep breath; focusing forward rather than at the creepy carnival attraction on both sides.
We reached a well lit room with walls covered from floor to ceiling in electronic contraptions; a luxurious chair in front of an oversized monitor with a massive table-sized keyboard sticking out in front of it. Sitting in the chair with his arms outstretched over the keyboard and fingers relentlessly striking the keys in a melodramatic coordination was what I wanted to say was a man, but I honestly had no clue anymore. This place was so out there I had to access myself mentally to make sure this wasn't actually some type of hallucinogen I was under reign of. The man—or thing—didn't even give us the time of day for a passing glance; he kept the eyes centered on his horned head affixed to the pop-ups that appeared on every inch of the monitor.
The man led us to the only other furniture in the room—two completely out of place couches with a chabudai positioned in between them. Toushirou motioned me toward them, and I hesitantly took a seat; mentally making myself smaller under the pressure of the unknown obscene science all around me and the psychopath looking zombie in the computer chair. I watched Toushirou's back as he walked; carefully focusing on the kanji of his haori in case cameras were secretly watching me—or the guy in the seat had literal eyes on the back of his head.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Hitsugaya-Taichou? You've brought ill-mannered company with you—are you expecting my assistance for your politest of acquaintances?"
At his arrogant—yet I guess true—accusation of me, I rose to my feet and cordially bowed.
"Kurotsuchi-Taichou, this is Kiteyama Akinoyo," Toushirou introduced.
"The obvious seemed to escape me," Kurotsuchi sarcastically spat back.
Kami, please hold me back; the back of my ring hand is seething in immense yearning to backhand this fucker in the face.
"A pleasure to meet you, Kurotsuchi-Taichou," I sounded as formally as physically possible.
"I know you're busy Kurotsuchi-Taichou, however I have more evidence for her case for you. Were you able to decipher the previous evidence?" Toushirou continued; ignoring the apparent annoyance.
"You doubt my ability, Hitsugaya-Taichou? Of course I've already deciphered the Latin paragraph; something like that is mere child's play to me." He scoffed.
I was boiling at this point. The sass of this fucker was absolutely astonishing. I knew that on my own time I was a bit of an asshole myself, but this guy took the fucking cake. Why wasn't Toushirou fuming like I was? He seriously was okay with this pompous bastard?
"I have no doubts, Kurotsuchi-Taichou, however, I know that you always have several projects going on at once, so I left it open for execution time." Hitsugaya politely, and professionally responded—if I had half his tact, I'd be going places one day.
"Nemuri Hachigou!" He snapped his fingers.
Within seconds, stomping from the behind the door across the room sounded. The door slammed open with the slide, and a small girl quickly made her way—almost slipping, mind you—to Kurotsuchi.
"Hai, Mayuri-Sama!" she quickly straightened her posture in front of the black and white checkered man.
I couldn't see his facial expression, but I didn't need to in order to sense the frustration the little girl's entrance caused him.
"Get the evidence for Kiteyama Akinoyo immediately, and give it to Hitsugaya-Taichou." He ordered.
"Hai!" she saluted.
She cleared across the room in a quick bout, and climbed up some sci-fi machinery to get to the metal shelf she couldn't reach. She swiped a sealed plastic bag, then raced back to hand it to Toushirou.
"In that bag, I've included a digital recording of the phrase in both Latin and Japanese. There's also a print out of the translation written in simplistic hiragana rather than sophisticated Kanji; I heard that she was locked away in a room for years—who knows just how far her illiteracy goes."
Toushirou completely cut me off before I ripped that fucker a new asshole. "Thank you for the results, Kurotsuchi-Taichou. We found more evidence that appears to be written in the same language." He took the book out of his haori pocket, and held it to the young girl. "Please take a moment to translate it for us—it was found amongst Kiteyama's prior possessions. It is pertinent to the case that we get the translation as soon as possible."
"So you and Ise-Fukutaichou keep reminding me." He snapped his fingers, and Nemuri took the book immediately.
She bowed cordially to Toushirou, then to me, and immediately vacated the room in the same fashion she'd entered.
"The only thing you're right about are the several projects I'm currently working on. I'll send someone with the translation soon enough." He stood up from his chair, and took some type of weird object and put it in his pocket. "Now if you wouldn't mind taking your leave—I've business to attend to."
"Thank you, Kurotsuchi-Taichou," Toushirou nodded.
Although it was against my religion to bow to this fucking baffoon; I had to remember my place. "Thank you, Kurotsuchi-Taichou; you're assistance is very much appreciated."
No response, just an intense stare back at me—I averted my eyes so that my frustration wouldn't take over. Toushirou turned as a signal to leave, and as I followed suit, the man's sinister voice stopped me mid-step.
"Not you, Kiteyama-san; you need to return the favor for my services."
I turned around and met the piercing—which I now assumed was normal—gaze of the zebra striped man. My eye cocked without consent. "You're correct; I do owe for the assistance. I have an active banking account now—how much will it be?"
"You think monetary reimbursement to someone who clearly would make more than you really matters? Please, I know you've lost your memory, but try to utilize common sense—it comes from a different section of your brain."
"Well then, what would suffice for someone as magnificent as yourself? Please, enlighten me."
Toushirou took a step forward in his own way of telling me to back down, but I had just about fucking had it with this guy. I was done dealing with his fucking sass; I know that the guy was literally the only one able to do this favor, so I was still being civil by showing barely-passable respect, but that didn't mean I couldn't be a smart-ass right back at him.
"I'm sure you haven't thought this over very much, however, have you ever considered the possibility that your capture wasn't a random occurrence? Aside from the obviously planned attack, have you considered the possibility that he wanted you specifically? Although Hitsugaya-Taichou and the other baffoons were successful in re-capturing you, that does not imply that your enemy is unintelligent or 'sloppy' as you may phrase it. I'm a man of research, and believe in the infinite possibilities of every situation. This possibility happens to outweigh the others, and since that is the case, there is only one thing left to do."
He passed the two of us and to the wall adjacent to Toushirou; taping the wall rhythmically with his index finger before he stepped back. In mere seconds, the portion of the wall slid open to reveal a hidden room.
"This way; hurry up."
I silently huffed my way over there with Toushirou close behind, and stopped at the entrance of the room.
It took literally less than one millisecond to realize what this was, and it literally zapped all my fury instantly.
This was an operation room.
"Nemuri Hachigou! Bring my new anesthetic!"
Okay. No. I couldn't do this. Th-this was too much like—
My face paled and I stood there staring while my mind underwent a complete shut-down. Toushirou stepped partially in front of me; shielding my eyes from the display of the slender silver instruments spread precisely atop the side cabinet. I could already hear the handsaw whirring in my mind.
"Kurotsuchi-Taichou, unfortunately we haven't the time for a full procedure; Kiteyama and I have other business to attend to." Toushirou spoke for me—I glanced up at him in a mental daze as he continued. "However, you may perform a quick reiatsu scan if you'd like,"
Kurosutchi cut him off with a scoff. "I swear, all of you have that insatiable itch to get torn apart in battle, yet cower worse than mice when it comes to doing it for an actual cause. You lot disgust me." He sat in his padded, wheeled stool, and looked up at me. "Fine; we'll hold off on the full experimentation and testing. Sit down on the table, Kiteyama-san." He ordered.
I didn't want to comply at all because of the re-surfaced anxiety that threatened to escape through my vocal cords, but with my earlier words of self-loathing before our arrival, I felt as if I had no choice. I sauntered over and sat down on the table. He said he wasn't going to do a full investigation; m-m-maybe he just wanted to look at me?
He turned around and took a needle with an attached vile, and without warning seized my arm and punctured into my vein roughly. When I squirmed and yelped out of reaction and overwhelming memories flooding my every thought, he chuckled.
"Please continue—it will only make things worse for you,"
I stiffened up at his yellow-toothed grin, and grit my teeth while my fingers and toes clenched in my best effort at reconciling myself. It was just a sample. I-It was just a sample.
He momentarily paused the extraction of my sangria-colored blood, and twisted out the vile to switch it for a new one. Nemuri was back, taking the extracted vile and placing it into a sanitary bag while awaiting the other vile. He took out the needle, and luckily had the decency to stick a small bandage over the puncture before I seized my arm back.
"You can leave now—I prefer to work when the materials are still fresh." He turned around to hunch over the table; turning on the light and shoving the blood tube into some type of weird contraption.
"Thank you, Kurotsuchi-Taichou," I bowed quickly and immediately vacated with Toushirou close behind.
Once we were guided out of the main facility and to the fresh air of the outside world, I kept my pace and left Toushirou in the dust behind me.
"Oi," he called, but I couldn't stop.
I kept progressing forward with zero idea of where I was even going. It was now absolutely clear—I was scared to death of anything depicting the operation table from that day. The thing that I couldn't convince myself of at that moment was the fact that I wasn't on that table. I was outside with Toushirou; the cool air in my face, the sun shining through the clouds above me, the freedom to move my arms and legs still mine. I knew I was okay, and that it wasn't happening, but all effort to control myself went to shit after that needle was shoved into me.
The seizure of my wrist prevented me from taking another step. I inhaled deeply; he didn't have to even ask—I already knew what he wanted. I took another few breaths to make sure that I was able to communicate before I even attempted to formulate coherent sentences.
"I'mfine; I j-just want to walk."
Without letting go of my wrist, he stepped toward me to close the gap between us—mere centimeters separating us. "It's okay to not be fine," he replied.
"I just d-don't want to talk about it." My fists clenched.
"I'm not here to force you to; I'm here to reassure you that I'm here—it's okay. If you wou—"
My bubbling emotions encouraged me to cave. I leaned back into him; his hands reflexively catching me as my shoulders settled against his chest.
"C-Cant you see I'm trying to not be a crybaby? You're making it difficult with those subtle, yet meaningful words you keep tempting me with," I put my face in my palms and shivered as I took another breath to stifle myself. "And what have I done to return the favor aside from developing an unhealthy reliance on those words?"
"Trust—trust is the word you meant to say; it's what you've finally begun to develop, and there's nothing unhealthy about it," he placed one of his hands gently over my left wrist; his fingers curling over as they pressed into the tender skin covering my veins. "You've done more for me than you realize, Akinoyo; even though returning the favor isn't of importance to me."
His hand on me tugged down on my wrist gently; encouraging me to lower my hands off my face. "What's important to me, is your comfort and trust in me and more importantly yourself; I want you to feel safe when you're with me, and I want you to take a chance to do what you've never had the opportunity to—being yourself."
"Well, now that you're here, you'll finally have the opportunity to figure things out, and let good-willed people mold you into the person you yourself want to be."
My eyes shot open from the new certainty that made itself perfectly clear from the memory of Abarai-Taichou's words, and the end of Toushirou's sentence. I couldn't say it aloud yet, but my mind kept screaming and shouting it over and over again—I had serious feelings for Toushirou. There were no more questions about it; no more uncertainty and confusion; I was locked in, and there was no escaping this no matter how against it I was.
I lowered my hands, and placed my right hand over his that still lingered on my wrist. The feel of his smooth skin under my fingertips paired with the warmth of his chest against me made my insides churn already, but now with this revelation it sent the feeling straight into overdrive. I exhaled; making sure that my words didn't sound as shaky as my internal workings were. "Thank you, Toushirou—that means a lot to me," I let go of him, and turned around to look up at him.
He stared down into me, and I concentrated with all my might to not waver in my gaze back even though cowering sounded heavenly. "However, you know I'm a woman of equivalent exchange; I know you said that you're benefiting from comforting me in my sick reality—which is weird because I'm weird and a huge asshole of a person but I won't ask—even so though, it would make me happy if you'd let me help you in some way. Even if it's something miniscule at first,"
We stared into each other in silence. I wanted to be the winner of this staring contest so I could for once prove the resolve in my own words, but I'd forgotten the most difficult part of this battle before jumping into it—I was up against a literal Ice King. Even though lately he's been acting warmer than usual, it didn't mean he couldn't exude that cold behavior of his faster than two shakes.
I formed my lips into a hard line, and struggled to stifle a gulp in my effort of puffed-up bravado. He didn't back down, and he didn't look fazed at all; he held his towering ground above me without breaking a sweat—Hell, he looked like he could go all day. Kami, this was so damn easy for me before; these damn feelings made everything so damn difficult.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and his eyes softened. He placed his hand atop my head briefly, and I audibly gulped from the contact.
"You can smile more—that would be a good start." He took his hand back, and put both of them in his pockets as he strode past me. "Smirking at your own wordplay doesn't count either," he said as he left me standing there in confusion.
After yet another deep breath, I turned and followed after him.
"That doesn't sound like it's helping at all," I muttered from behind him.
"Come now, what happened to all that determination just now?"
"Yeah—I guess." I grumbled.
Of all things to have me do—smiling? Aside from the tickling flutters within me, it overall was such a ridiculous request. It wasn't what I had in mind, but I guess it was a start.