~o) Hell Butterfly (o~
Soul Awakening
~26~
o)0(o
"Why are you agreeing to this?"
Urahara looked troubled, staring at a tiny black bead in his palm. It had been manufactured via hypothetical soul technology, 10% genius, 15% luck, 20% time and error, and 100% dangerous. He planned to layer Masaki's reiatsu around it, culture it like a pearl, until it could reach its true potential.
He couldn't even attempt to explain it to her.
She slammed her hand down on the table, bring it on.
"Because I have no idea what you're going to do."
Sighing, he waved her over to the latest reiryoku extractor, hoping she wouldn't blow it up this time. Should the experiment prove successful, her energy would be left drained for weeks. It might help to reduce her nightmares as well, if all went well.
They clasped dry, nervous palms for a moment, locked eyes. To quell the slight fear that always preceded their dangerous trials, Kisuke spoke.
"Let's kill one hundred, million birds with one stone."
o)0(o
Isshin sauntered into his old haunt, the Fourth Squad hospital, with a gleam in his eye and a proud swish of his white haori. Eighty years of unrelenting effort had resulted in promotions, squad transfers and a far-reaching reputation, in short, the captain of Tenth had pretty much everything.
Everything except his original goal – Masaki's adoration.
"Retsu-san!" he cheered with the informality captaincy allowed. "How's things?"
Unohana swept out of the private examination room, her mouth set in a grim line. "Kurosaki -taicho, we have an urgent situation. Would it be within your power to locate Urahara Kisuke in Karakura town and extract information from him for me?"
Isshin gaped at her. That was the kind of mission TOUGH GUYS were sent out on. Strong, dependable, charismatic types; capable of wringing confessions from mad scientists of unimaginable power and prowess. His chest swelled with pride and a little cautious bravado.
"CERTAINLY UNOHANA-TAICHO!" he roared gaily, making sure everyone in the ward heard how impressive he was. "What's it about?"
"I need to gain further information on Masaki-san's condition, that only Urahara has ever successfully diagnosed, in order to treat at least her symptoms. If I do not, there is a chance she may die-"
Retsu blinked, and realised she was talking to empty air. "Thank you, Kuroasaki-san!" she called politely after him. He was already halfway to the senkai gates.
o)0(o
"I prefer an air of mystery in a man," explained Masaki vaguely, rotating her wrist in an attempt to demonstrate this.
"Oh," laughed Unohana, wrapping a bandage around the other, splinted wrist, which had been broken in another of 12th Squad's barrack explosions. "And confusion doesn't count, does it?"
The younger woman caught the reference and snorted. "Isshin? He's an open book!"
The entire ward stopped, and everyone stared at her. Even the guy who was meant to be under anaesthetic.
"Or…not?" she continued nervously.
"You must be a talented reader, Masaki-chan," replied Unohana, her eyes closing in a gentle smile. The ward slowly picked up its bustle again, as the shock that someone actually understood the eccentric Kurosaki-taicho passed.
"Pfft. Give it a rest."
o)0(o
"How did you get in here?" asked Urahara in mild surprise, as Isshin sat down at his work table and stared at him keenly.
"It's my magical Isshin sliding technique. Now explain to me –"
Kisuke batted his eyelids innocently at Isshin from beneath the stripy grocers' hat perched upon his blond head. "Ara? You need me, Kurosaki-taicho? Is Soul Society suffering from a city wide epidemic of insanity?"
"What? No!" Isshin was hit for six. "What on earth makes you say that?"
"I'm merely mystified as to how you could have become a captain, Kurosaki-san!" trilled the shopkeeper, waving his cane around.
"...I can't take you seriously in that hat…please take it off, Urahara-taicho…"
"Apologies, but I love it! It's never coming off."
"Fine," Isshin suddenly became deathly serious. Kisuke was slightly taken aback, although the fierce intent radiating from the man went some way towards explaining his elevated post. "I'm not going to take no for an answer on this, because it concerns the LOVE OF MY LIFE and is also an order from Unohana-taicho…whom we all fear."
"Go on," said Urahara, intrigued,
"Masaki."
That single word was enough. Kisuke 's face went grey, and he sat down heavily. "That time has come, has it?"
Isshin hunched down next to him, like the gorilla he was, and nodded. Though to be honest, having hared off before Unohana could finish, he had no idea what 'that time' entailed.
"Listen carefully, Kurosaki," commanded the exile sternly. "To save Masaki will necessitate going against the Soutaicho and forging an elaborate cover-up operation. He will never agree to what needs to be done to save her life. Therefore it's better if he is never made aware of it."
"What's happening to her?"
"It's simple," said Urahara, flatly. "Her soul is falling apart."
"What? Why!"
The scientist dragged a hand down his face. "Have you any comprehension how unfathomably hard it is to research things like this?"
Isshin blinked owlishly.
"It's not like we can measure people from one life to the next. I might be gravely mistaken by my reincarnation theories; she may just be going insane." The crooked genius looked at the experimental Modified Souls incubating in tanks scattered around the room.
"…Or I may have unburied a thousand years' worth of research from a single person."
o)0(o
"And then he said to me, 'Have you heard of the Soul Sleep and the Chain of Fate?'"
Orihime felt Ichigo stiffen beside her. Yes he had. She turned to see pain haunting his face.
When Kuchiki Byakuya had retrieved his sister from the lowlifes of Karakura Town, it was the agonising severing of the Soul Sleep and the Chain of Fate that had cut Rukia's powers from the boy's spirit body. But that hadn't been the only time.
He flinched, thrown back in time to a desolate memory he had never wished to revisit.
"Zanpakutos only kill the Hollow; then the soul is released again. But the soul hid in the first place because there were things it couldn't bear."
Drenched to the bone, losing circulation in the tight nest of chains, Ichigo had never felt more weak and helpless as his pale imitation explained the secrets of life and death.
"That's what these are for…" and it flicked the metal binds, making them hum eerily; "Chains of Fate and the Soul Sleep…"
o)0(o
These are the sources of our shinigami powers; to remove them would be to lose our zanpakuto and reiatsu.
But do you know what they are for? The Chain of Fate is what pins the soul in place, what defines its form and its personality. Usually it can't be seen within the soulscape. And the Soul Sleep is like...a reservoir of memories. When we die, the Chain of Fate will drag us into Soul Sleep and cleanse the soul in preparation for the next life. Can you imagine if babies were born with the minds of adults, or if we had to contend with ten generations of likes and dislikes every time we were faced with a simple decision? Soul Sleep prevents this.
Now, Masaki's Chain of Fate is corrupt, rusted, it doesn't work properly. Like a genetic mutation for a living person; possibly even an autistic savant who gains genius skills in one area as they lose the ability to cope with several others.
When the Chain of Fate is damaged, so is the Soul Sleep.
The world you visit when you convene with your zanpakuto spirit, that is the inner landscape of your soul. And you will find that it is not empty. Although it may be distorted by your emotions or overtaken by your zanpakuto's effigy, still some part of the permanent surroundings will be more than it seems. For some people it is buildings, forests, beaches...others find their inner worlds full of ice or fire or clouds...some might be crowded, some might seem almost empty.
Masaki's was a field of grass. And as she walked through it she often cut her feet on shards of jade hidden among the stems. That is how her zanpakuto, Gyokusai, revealed itself to her. But focus on the flowers that are dotted throughout the meadow.
She told me that when she was young, all the flowers were small, peaceful, and dormant.
The older she grew and the more her powers activated, the buds began to change.
Each flower that bloomed represented one of her past lives waking up.
I decided to call her illness 'Soul Awakening'.
The first symptom is a rush of reiatsu as their subconscious joins with hers. The soul expands.
The second consequence is a loss of control, a difficulty with zanpakuto techniques; inability to work with fine detail in kido.
And as the situation advances, the past incarnations and the current Masaki become more and more at odds, echoing through each other, until they end in insanity and self-destruction.
We are not meant to live like this.
o)0(o
"Hello Masaki," said Isshin gently.
She looked at him, cursed, and huddled away. Her eyes were blackened from insomnia, her fingers shook, and her arms were covered in patches much like Zaraki's eye patch in an attempt to vent her excess reiatsu. Kurostuchi Mayuri was not quite so adept as his predecessor, and makeshift fixes were all he had offered her before suggesting vivisection with an insidiously gleeful grin.
"How are the flowers?" he asked, perhaps a softer way to refer to her terminal illness.
She winced, slumped on the hospital gurney. "Who could tell?" she replied in a distressed sob. "I can barely see them through the rain."
"Rain?" he repeated.
"When we're unhappy, rain falls within our souls. When we're dying, it becomes a deluge, washing our old loves away to cleanse the spirit for the next time." She gestured dramatically as she spoke in swooping tones; then scoffed. "It's a trick! Reincarnation is a lie! We are our memories, but our memories get poured down the drain."
She was angrier than he'd ever seen her; a bitter ire that seemed to co me from someone else yet fell from her mouth. This schizophrenic behaviour was simply yet another symptom. Unohana had debriefed him on all her medical details.
He had no idea how to heal her, nor comfort her, nor even wish her well in such a bleak situation. Urahara's suggested cure sounded like dying in its own right.
"Your old taicho hasn't forgotten you, you know." She looked up, just for a second, and he saw the tear tracks carved into her cheeks. "He has it all laid out for you. He's been working on some of this stuff for years."
She half-laughed, mouth cracked a painful smile. "He's just found new ways to get me into trouble, hasn't he?"
"I heard he stole the main idea from a Quincy," muttered Isshin nonchalantly. "Bit of a dirty cheat for a genius, isn't he?"
"I just..." She shrugged helplessly, hopelessly. There was nothing she could say. She was powerless against herself.
"When I go to my next life, I'll be glad to know that the memories of this one aren't lost. Lord knows I won't be lucky enough to meet someone like you twice." Even the indomitable Kurosaki seemed subdued.
Her brow crumpled faintly, and she continued to stare into the middle distance. His hand hovered over her shoulder, not daring to touch, "We're not exactly soul mates..."
"You really think it's a good thing that these lives are all locked away and breaking out?"
"Well, Masaki-chan, you can't keep a memory unless some part of you actively remembers it - doesn't that mean you're not lost at all?"
o)0(o
A parade of ghosts behind her eyes and with every unfamiliar face a tidal wave of déjà vu, Masaki was adrift in an ocean of strangers.
It was nearing the time when she would give in, she could feel her grip slipping with every passing minute, frequently she would black out, blink and realise she had been someone else for several minutes. In every atom of her body she could feel the lead weight of terror.
What will I be? Who will I be? How long can I stay strong? If I fall to this, will there be anything left but another raving Hollow?
Did I really fight for all these years just to become another monster?
They said that arrangements were being made, they met clandestine by night and in hushed whispers discussed her fate. But her soul was deteriorating. It was hopeless. Not even the formidable Unohana Retsu could do anything to halt this.
It wasn't so much that Masaki was going to die and move on, but that she was going to cease to exist.
Words and worries not her own tugged her thoughts this way and that. She didn't know where she was, she had been looking for her brother, what happened to her bicycle?
None of it made any sense.
She couldn't cope any longer.
She clenched her fists tight and drove them into her skull, trying to dig the alien lives out. And that failed, so she laid back and let go.
She gave in.
A moment later, the door scraped open and Unohana gestured to her quietly. "Come, Masaki. It's time to say goodbye."
"To who?" she asked, levering herself up on aching arms. "Where are we going?"
"You need to say farewell to Ichioku Gyokusai. You may never meet your zanpakuto again."
o)0(o
And a short while later, as she lay in a kido-induced sleep upon an operating table in Fourth, Masaki stepped into her inner world, the one she had not dared approach in months, and let the pouring rain drench her to the bone, and peered at the blooming acres in the clouded darkness, and felt the sharp edge of her zanpakuto spirit against her bare feet.
"Gyokusai," she said quietly, inaudible amongst the roaring downpour.
"You gave me everything, every strength and fortitude a person could ever need. You changed yourself to help me cope with the Soul Awakening, and I never had a truer friend in battle. I don't know what I'll do without you, but if I can survive, then perhaps one day we'll meet again. I hope we do."
Scintillating diamond dust dancing in the air briefly, whipped away by the gale. It was a farewell.
Then and only then did Masaki allow herself to lose consciousness – she did not want to be aware when the blade of Minazuki fell.
When her powers were ripped from her soul, it would dwarf every other sensation in her life.
o)0(o
She awoke and felt empty. A hollow shell: with just the one mind bouncing aimlessly inside a body that had stretched to fit several more. She felt at peace, yet so, so lonely. And weakness seemed to have settled into her, spreading out from her heart through which the incision had been cut.
Mayuri leaned over her, grunted, and began popping cables and sensors off her arms and face.
"What are you doing here, fukutaicho?" asked the woman suspiciously. She had never acknowledged his rise to captain, had never wished to admit that Urahara Kisuke had been exiled.
"Oh, you think no one will notice the absence of a third seat from the Tech division? And such a flashy one at that? I've been building a memory suppressor that will wipe you out of sight and mind for weeks! It's bigger than this room! I don't know why we didn't just strip your brain out and use you as a battery...such a waste of resources so that you can live a normal life? Imbecilic."
"Then why agree to help?"
The captain rolled his yellow eyes as if agreeing with the lack of logic. "It would be one of the conditions placed on myself by Urahara, wouldn't it? You will be living in Karakura town from now on."
"What? I thought I'd move out to Rukongai!"
"Idiot!" he mocked her, smacking her forehead with the heel of his palm. "Visual triggers to undo this entire charade, just sauntering round Rukongai? No! You will live in Karakura, mete out a pitiful human existences, then die and we will have done with you! Your operation has been performed by Unohana, Urahara will provide you with employment and a gigai specially modified, blah blah blah. I've lost a valuable generator here! Now I have to rely on that brainless streak of muscle Zaraki! I am not pleased! But all well and good if Tech doesn't foot the bill for your numerous cataclysms anymore. Ugh. Get up and get out the senkai before I skin you alive. Out of my sight, trash."
o)0(o
In the quiet streetlit night of Karakura, Masaki stood in front of the Urahara shouten and accepted a specially modified gigai from her former captain. She felt adrift, barely sinking in to her new situation. And Ichioku Gyokusai was absent, a silent void in the back of her mind.
Lost in avoidance of thought, she rested on the wall, feeling the cold stone through the gigai's modern skirt that was nowhere near so cosy as her faithful shihakusho. The textures of the real world were different to Seireitei, where there was always a slight fizz of soul-touching-soul. Here it was a little more numb, yet gritty and unmistakeably present. Of course, damage no longer depended on having higher reiatsu, a wound was a wound, and blades could cut.
She could not remember the last time she had been so vulnerable, so alone. But her habitual confidence remained, safe in the knowledge that she could out-manoeuvre any thug to cross her path. Urahara wouldn't give her a fragile gigai, would he?
Masaki sighed, looked up past the streetlights' glare to the clear night sky above. One or two stars glittered, most hidden by city fumes. She would have to locate a job and a new home and build a new life from scratch. Make friends from strangers; find a new pattern to fit in to, having lost everything from her afterlife.
And then...?
She hummed to herself loosely, folding her arms and dipping her head in thought.
Without a grand mission such as defending the world from Hollows or aiding Urahara in his strange experiments, what was she supposed to do?
In fleeting real-world lives, what filled that gap?
o)0(o
Lost in transition, she didn't notice the jaunty whistling until its source was almost beside her.
Cue the fool.
Hiding in the orange glow of a lamp, her knight in shining armour had arrived, throwing down the gauntlet of commitment with nary a hesitation in his sauntering step.
She raised an eyebrow . "Stalker."
He was appalled, heartbroken.
"But Masaki-chan!"
"Why are you here?"
"I..." He waved his hands vaguely, at a loss. "I looked around at my captaincy, my squad, my friends, my home...and none of it seemed to fit right anymore. Without you in the picture, at least glaring at me from near the frame, or something..."
She regretted her harsh words. But still, he hadn't been invited. "Just...head back, Kurosaki. This kind of life wouldn't suit you. I'm only doing it because I had no choice."
He fidgeted.
"Actually it's a bit late for that. I um, got Kurotsuchi to include me in the memory suppression kido,"
She stared.
"Matsumoto has also eradicated me from all of Soul Society's records, at the same time as she deleted you. She swore that she would never look at another piece of paperwork again,"
Her mouth dropped open.
"...which means she'll make life pretty hellish for that clever kid from my squad who'll be replacing me as captain...I mean, he has ice dragons and white hair and achieved a captaincy in a tenth of the time I did, the brat, can you believe it?"
Masaki began to stutter.
"Not to mention, these reiatsu-sapping gigai Kisuke developed are pretty damn efficient. I could take it off right now and still be useless for a month, I hope he doesn't plan to make more of them. Dangerous stuff."
"You-!" she blurted, almost bursting into tears. "Can't you give me a break? In the entire century? Please?"
Isshin sidled closer, a definite 'no'. "Well, it's tough to start a new life, right? I'm a medical expert with decades of experience. I figured I could get a job as a doctor and support you, and then you could do whatever you liked..."
"I...I haven't even begun to realise what I've lost yet...the only thing I got to keep was my life and sanity. You haven't considered this at all, when was the last time you were alive? The world's moved on, we'll have to adapt!"
Isshin fell silent, and miraculously, began to think. He leaned against the wall, in a pool of amber light, slowly slumping further and further until the pressure of responsibility seemed to floor him.
"I'll have to take up smoking to cope with the stress," he muttered to himself, not looking at her. He fished a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of his tuxedo pocket, well prepared.
And as the white tip of the deathstick singed into heat and a golden glow, she realised she didn't have a clue what he was thinking. For a brief moment, the idiot whose heart was usually written across his sleeve became a mystery, showing a deeper side than she'd known him capable of.
"You look cool when you smoke," she said, the words falling out automatically, by accident.
He choked, lost all air of savoir faire and turned to her with sparkling eyes. "That's the first compliment you've ever given me!" he trilled, delighted.
"And the last," she vowed, but a smile chased her slip. "You should try being serious a little more often. It suits you."
"Ahh, but Masaki-chan," he corrected her quickly; "these are times when you'll need cheering up!"
"Perhaps," she said with a soft grin, trying to remember what she had been fretting over moments before.
Silence resumed, as they both took in the sky through their synthetic eyes, and wondered how human Urahara could make them become. He'd been reticent with the designs, but Masaki knew her ex-captain well and suspected genetic research and other illegal methods had played a part.
"So what was it you used to say?" asked the newly remade woman brightly. "One beautiful baby girl and a garden full of flowers?"
Isshin's reaction was indescribable.
o)0(o
"That's a boy," pointed out Masaki, two years later, cradling the ginger baby in her arms. It had only taken a century or two of battle in the frontlines for her to build up a sufficient pain threshold to find labour bearable. Though she'd still managed to break one or two of her husband's fingers in a death grip.
"A boy, a boy, a son!" The man was ecstatic through his tears as he splinted and bandaged his left hand. "But we were aiming for a girl, right?" noted Masaki.
"Better luck next time?" he asked hopefully.
She nearly threw the baby at him.
o)0(o
"OH MY DEITY OF CHOICE!" yelled Isshin when he met his partner in the medical students' placement. "YOU'RE A QUI-"
Ryuuken gagged the man with a stethoscope and held a loaded syringe threateningly close to his neck. "Keep your mouth shut, shinigami, or I'll break my Hippocratic Oath just for you."
"Hey hey! You're that Quincy! THAT ONE! You're the guy who shoots our powers out without killing us. Actually, we stole your idea to save my wife's life, so I'm really pleased to meet you in real world life! Don't sweat the war, kay? Let's be buddies!" Isshin began to mumble incoherently about anaesthetic and slumped to the floor.
Ishida Ryuuken place the empty syringe carefully into the biohazard bin, and then nudged the shinigami under an empty bed,
"Did you hear what he said?" asked one patient to another once the dangerous doctor had left.
"I think he called him a queer!" hissed back the other.
o)0(o
"Maybe this was more luck than we were intending," cooed Masaki, one twin girl in each arm. She adored her children. Every time they smiled she forgot more and more about her afterlife, each and every time they hugged her she became happier to be alive again. Children were incredibly rare in Seireitei.
This was the first time she'd known what she was missing out on.
Isshin just grinned with helpless pride at their surgeon-midwife, Ryuuken, who couldn't bring himself to puncture the moment of joy with a reminder that he really, really was not associated with the Kurosakis in any way, shape or form.
o)0(o
And here Isshin's story ended. Abruptly.
Yuzu and Ichigo watched each other with trembling heartbeats, they knew what came next.
That the very thing that saved their mother's soul had also left her defenceless when a Hollow came calling.
"Couldn't you have done anything?" repeated Ichigo one last, hopeless time.
"I've killed the Grand Fisher," said Isshin gravely. "But that's all I could do. Years too late. I discarded my human body for a regular gigai not long after you met Rukia, but it's taken till now for my strength to return. I lived in that thing for twenty years. I can't teach you anything Ichigo, your reiatsu doesn't work the same way mine does; it's an inheritance from Masaki alone. Kido will never work for you. And if I came out of hiding to do my part in the war, what would Yuzu do? She'd have lost everyone to ghosts she can't even see. I will never ask for your forgiveness, Ichigo, because I've failed all of us. But that's the way life is. We only learn how truly weak we are when there's nothing we can do to help it."
o)0(o
Alliriyan~*