Greetings, kind readers. I'm Rosso Angelo.
After a lot of thinking and frying my brain, I finally managed to bring this new story to you all. I don't have much to say (why would I? It's the prologue after all), other than it's bleak and not the most hopeful thing out there, at least at the start. It'll get better as time goes on. I'm a fan of well-built progression and happiness in times of difficulty. I hope you like it.
Clarification: There's a lot of OOC-ness, for plot reasons. Pairing undecided, don't suggest anything.
Enjoy.
I do not own Bleach, but I own this story.
Rays of light from the night sky above send a plea across the ages.
It's somebody's cry, a wish carried on the wind.
A request from the moon to live as fully as possible, day by day.
.
.
.
Even if we're far away, even if we can't see each other...
...Keep on living. Keep on shining like a star.
I'm sure I'll see your light when I look up at night, and we'll meet again.
Prologue - Nameless
A dim moonlight shone upon a vast, never-ending, and deserted world.
It was a breach in space and time, an infinite cluster of bone-colored sand and rocks that seemed to extend far, far away, where the promise of more meaninglessness dwelled as a certain fact. Yet, despite its appearance, it wasn't completely devoid of life. It acted as a self-sustaining organism, a reflection of a place full of life, always on the brink of turning into a completely dead location, but never actually ending like it should have.
There was absolutely no need for that world. It was just there, perpetuating its own useless existence for an eternity. Equally useless beings settled their existences there too, as there was no need for them anywhere else. Their nature, similar to the world they could barely call 'home', was one of desperate need for nothing and self-serving aimlessness. They searched for things they themselves didn't personally want, as it was the search itself that motivated them. They drifted around, going from one place to another, passively stealing space and oxygen, amongst other things.
The moon high in the sky was the only worth mentioning, and even then, it was just a fancy decoration. It wasn't even real. It was just a reflection of the real thing, which did inhabit another world. Some sources even said that the reflection was inverted, which meant the moon that could be stared at from the desert wasn't actually correct in its showing.
Ironic. The only thing that gave some basis of personality to that empty world was just a false image that wasn't even accurate. Like the surface of a dream that would never be achieved, as it was there to show off how worthless were the things -it was too kind to call them beings- that watched it from afar.
Such was the pitiful place unironically named 'Hueco Mundo' by tradition and out of contempt for a place that, again, didn't have any reason to exist. A hollow world full of hollow things.
One of the aforementioned things that stole space and oxygen, called 'Hollow' for convenience's sake, walked aimlessly like its nature rightfully dictated.
It could hardly be described as anything remotely human. Toned yet badly misshapen and disproportioned muscles made the entirety of its dark-red colored body. The creature was tall, about 3 meters or so. Its arms were long enough to reach its shins, which ended in clawed, equally long hands. Sharp protrusions like bones were seen on its elbows and knees. From its back the same bone-like structures tore away the skin, following the line of its spine.
The most shocking fact about the creature probably was its face, or lack thereof. There was a mask of some sorts covering the entirety of its head, serving as a permanent replacement for the real thing. Despite looking as if it was made of bone, it gave off an organic sentiment, a raw feeling of it being alive on its own. Luminous yellow orbs darkly stared from the orifices where the eyes were supposed to be. It was an impression of a neutral scowl with bared teeth, no different from some sort of living skeleton.
Finally, the mark that permitted anyone to distinguish it as a Hollow: a hole in the middle of his chest, clean and empty, with a clear sight of the other side.
What was it doing? Not much, just searching for food to eat. A Hollow couldn't think about anything else other than eating like a glutton, and then asking for more.
However, it didn't eat what people would necessarily call food. Its source of nutrition was something ethereal, something that only engorged its stomach and forced it to eat more and more. It was an unhealthy addiction that unfortunately couldn't be overturned. In an attempt to satiate its hunger, not of food, but of meaning, it consumed others' Souls and their dreams, their ambitions, their feelings, and their identity. All just to reformate its own identity.
Well, 'preserve' was a better word. There was a definite limit to how much a Hollow could consume souls and retain them, much like a fuel tank. Once the fuel ran out, the Hollow would lose all vestiges of its already dim individuality and ultimately lose its mind, which was the reason it kept on eating. Only select Hollows managed to preserve themselves without feeding in excess, or at all, and even then, those were rare.
It was funny in a very sick manner. Hollows fought like animals, they blindly ate, just to be 'themselves', their own person. Something that basically any other sentient being with a bit of intelligence had for granted, these monsters had to kill for it.
Living beings were fortunate enough to hold that fundamental privilege. The privilege of having a set identity, memories, attachments, emotions. The privilege of being one, irreplaceable, and unique person.
Hollows didn't have such privilege. They were all the same for the most part. Their monstrous appearances were the only sort of distinction they managed to have, and even then, their masks were an immediate giveaway of their nature.
They were guided by the instinct of self-preservation. They were conditioned to kill, to search and hold onto mundane things, because that made them feel good. That made them feel like they, perhaps, were worth anything. Their tiny lights of reasoning were enough to hold onto superficial elements that granted them a poor sense of self.
Hueco Mundo was a sea of sand full of carnivorous goldfish. A sickening landscape filled with the most primitive forms of life.
It was full of nothing.
But… maybe it wasn't so bad, if looked in another light. After all, a place full of nothing was perfect for those who had nothing to gain and nothing to lose.
A place stalled in time for things that would eventually rot away. A gigantic trash bin.
The Hollow, of course, didn't care about any of that. How could it? It was hungry, and getting its daily meal was more important than anything else. One cannot think with an empty stomach, after all.
And after a long, almost unending walk, it had finally found something to eat.
There, in the middle of the desert, was food.
Sitting on a rock, a certainly bizarre figure stared at the fake moon.
Normally the Hollow wouldn't even care about how it looked or why it was there. The Hollow would have already jumped with the intention of eating the food. But it couldn't help but to stay there.
It wasn't out of curiosity. It was a feeling of danger.
The Hollow knew that the thing in front wasn't as weak and fragile as it first seemed. So it stood there with precaution, knowing the dangers that approaching that thing would bring.
Firstly, the food wasn't another Hollow. It resembled a human, which was already a rare occurrence when concerning Hueco Mundo. A human male, given his toned and hardened physique. His entire body was completely covered with bandages, to the point where not even a little strand of hair or a glimpse of his skin could be seen. Very tiny apertures allowed the man to see with his eyes, breathe through his nose, and talk with his mouth.
Aside from that, the man was completely unrecognizable, mummified.
A torn, antique piece of dark cloth hanged from his waist, tied with another set of bandages, and covering the legs of the unknown man messily. It was so destroyed and used that it couldn't even reach his feet.
What brought the Hollow's attention the most was the man's weapon.
The man held onto a particularly tall and thick sword. No, it wasn't a sword. It was an oversized knife of some sorts, with no proper guard. The man's bandages were tied on what was supposed to be the hilt firmly, as if the knife was part of the man's body itself. It was stuck in the sandy ground in an uncomfortable position for the man's arm.
The giant knife was rusted and cracked. It was incredible it managed to stay in one piece, given its extreme use. At that point, it could hardly be called a knife. By the looks of it, it didn't look like it could cut anything at all. It was just a big slab of metal about to break into pieces.
Yet, the man stubbornly held it. The Hollow had the gut feeling that, to take that sword from the man, it would need to cut off his arm first, because he wouldn't let it go no matter what.
They stayed like that for an unnerving amount of seconds. At some point, one of them decided to break the ice and speak.
"Hey. It's a good night, don't you think?" the bandaged man said nonchalantly.
The Hollow found itself confused. There was no night or day in Hueco Mundo. Hueco Mundo was static, always the same. Change was synonym of Hope, and Hope was synonym of life. For the man to use a human concept such as 'good' or 'night' implied he actually believed something would change in the sand world.
Hueco Mundo wasn't 'good' or 'bad'. There was no day or night. Hueco Mundo was. It just was, and nothing else.
The man scratched his neck, a coarse sound being produced as he did so. "Are you just going to stand there or what? At least come a little closer. It's a pain to talk louder just for you to hear me. My throat is dry."
Another silence took place. The Hollow, not fully understanding the man's rambling, carefully approached until it was a few meters away. It could reach the man with one of its long arms if it tried.
"Can you talk or something? It gets pretty lonely around here, and talking with myself can be a little jarring after a while. I'm a pain in my own ass, honestly."
The Hollow took some seconds to let that sink in. It let out a small, unintelligible growl.
"I know you can understand me. You're strong enough to be an Adjuchas-class Menos, which means you must have some degree of intelligence," the man explained, before raising his free hand with an apologetic manner, "But hey, if you wanna keep your silence, it's ok."
The one-sided conversation came to another standstill. The silence itself wasn't exactly bad, yet the Hollow's confusion was ever-growing.
"…Unnecessary."
It was an echoing croak, barely understandable. But the man seemed to react normally to it.
"Could you expand on that?"
The Hollow shook its head slightly. "It's unnecessary to engage in meaningless chatter. Talking with a Hollow is an unlikely possibility, except in a madman's mind. You would have no reason to interact with me, except in a battle to the death, as it is custom here. Why do you insist?"
"…Eh, you do have a point," the man admitted. "I guess I'm a bit messed up in the head, and waste a lot of time doing meaningless things. Sorry, I can't help it. I was bored."
The Hollow, once again, found itself confused at the use of strange concepts. Hollows couldn't be 'bored'. While they did find satisfaction in a number of things from time to time, getting bored was not normal. Most Hollows had a muddy mind full of memory lapses and constantly shrinking reasoning, which meant they could easily be surprised by looking at the same rock hundreds of time and not get tired of doing so.
Of course, only hyper intelligent and lucid Hollows could get bored, and as it is known, they're not numerous in Hueco Mundo.
Confusion finally morphed into real curiosity, uncharacteristic of the Hollow in question.
"What are you? You look like a human, and your spiritual signature is dull, but I can't help but to be wary. Are you perhaps a Shinigami?"
The bandaged man shrugged. "I'm not sure myself. Let's say I'm just a ghost."
Ghosts were Souls, spirits that hadn't quite been corrupted by earthly desires. They were sentient and roamed around without an anchor to the physical world. Basically, food for Hollows who didn't like to chew on the external body to get to the really tasty parts.
The man was not a ghost by any chance, though. His presence was too settled, too firm to be called a Ghost. Ghost were a disperse existence that weren't weighted down by physical abnormalities. He was more of a Shinigami, yet, at the same time he didn't feel like one.
"Of course, I mean that in a metaphorical way. I'm not a ghost, but I do drift around without anything important to do." The man cupped his chin later, humming. "Although that would make me more akin to a Hollow… Tsk, whatever. It's not like it matters."
The Hollow groaned again, thinking about the strange man in front of him.
"Who are you, then? What's your name? You should at least be able to answer to that much."
The man remained silent for a bunch of seconds. Then, he looked at the Hollow directly.
His darkened brown eyes stared at him while he smiled, twisting the bandages on his face in an unsightly way.
"I'm a simple nobody. I'm just here, waiting."
The Hollow, intrigued by the dodgy nature of the man, asked once again.
"Waiting for what, 'Nobody'?"
He chuckled, seemingly satisfied with his new nickname. However, there was a strange hint of instability to his laugh.
"I don't know. My end, I suppose," simply answered the mysterious man. "I believe that, if I wait long enough, I'll probably turn into dust or something like that. I sit around, waiting for my disappearance."
The man seemed downcast for a moment, before straightening his back once again.
"If you want to know my name, I don't really have one. Not anymore. I guess you can just call me Saki if it suits your fancy. It works either way."
The Hollow tilted its masked head to one side. More questions kept popping up and none of them were answered in a way that made any sense, which was even weirder. His reluctance to actually put on a livelier attitude despite his human appearance painted him as a Hollow rather than a human itself.
"Why haven't you killed yourself yet, if it is death you wait for?"
'Saki' chuckled again.
"If I was able to, I would have done so already."
The silence that followed this time was longer. Heavier, even. The reason for that was that both parties knew perfectly well the message that lingered in the air, and how little time they would spend before one of them ceased to be.
"You know why I'm here," the Hollow murmured, "don't you?"
Saki nodded, sighing. "Yeah. You must be hungry and you thought I would make a decent meal, right? That's what most Hollows do. They eat."
A creaking was heard as the Hollow raised one of its long arms, opening its clawed hand menacingly over the man's head.
"Then I guess words are truly unnecessary right now. Allow me to grant you your wish, Saki."
The man huffed heavily, dismissively waving his free hand.
"Thank you. I'll be rooting for you as much as I can. Do your best."
Letting that ominous yet sincere cheer reach deaf ears and vanish, Saki hanged his head low, not different from a condemned man waiting for the guillotine's blade to fall and separate the head from the body.
The Hollow's claw fell with astonishing speed, tearing apart the stalled air of Hueco Mundo and aiming to pulverize Saki's body with it.
CLANK-!
A metallic echo shook with invisible force the ground. Ripples travelled through the sand, turning the unstable place into a makeshift crater of sorts.
As the newly formed dust cloud settled down, the Hollow was able to see what had stopped its hand in place.
Saki's rusted knife-sword had been suddenly raised above his head with reflexes that couldn't belong to a simple human, or a Ghost. He blocked the attack using the flat side of the blade. It didn't budge.
The Hollow roared, swatting the sword away with a strong flick of its powerful arm. It raised its other arm, and shot it out like a powerful lance with tremendous piercing power.
Saki used the momentum gained by his broken defense to get up from the rock he sat on, and swung his sword around his body with one arm.
Sparks flew as the sword's deteriorated edge met the steel-like skin of the Hollow. A horrible screech was generated as the sword slid upon the impenetrable surface, unable to cut through the Hollow's arm due to its bad state. It wasn't necessary to cut anything, however.
The bandaged man changed the course his enemy's attack a little, and got under its guard.
Once he was close enough, he smashed his shoulder onto the enemy's side and set the monster rolling many meters away.
Saki rolled on the ground, quickly stood up again, and acquired some semblance of a fighting stance.
He didn't use his other hand, instead pointing the slab of metal at his enemy.
Quickly, the Hollow regained its posture and got in all fours before Saki.
Then, with savagery, the beast jumped and began running against its enemy. The Hollow roared and growled, shaking the ground with its powerful steps.
The bandaged man raised his sword over his shoulder, and just before the Hollow crashed against him, he brought it down once again.
BAM-!
The Hollow dragged Saki across the sand as it bit the sword with its mask's teeth, pushing him backwards.
They kept struggling like that for at least two minutes. A long trail of sand was carved as the Hollow managed to push him almost a kilometer back for a good amount of time. Their speed slowly decreased as the monster lost force, and Saki slowly stopped him with only the strength of his arm.
One second is all it took. The short moment when the two of them had completely stopped, Saki pushed the Hollow back violently, freeing his blade.
The Hollow's head was slightly thrown backwards thanks to the great force of the push. Yet that didn't stop it from swinging one of its long claws to strike from the side.
CLANK-!
But Saki intercepted the strike once again with the flat side of his blade.
The man was open now. His sword was still protecting his side from being skewered apart, and the Hollow wouldn't take a lot of time to get close and bite his head off quite easily.
The Hollow opened its mouth, and hungrily approached, ready to have a taste of its well-deserved meal.
BAM-!
It was a flash. The Hollow couldn't react to a strike that seemingly appeared out of nowhere with newfound strength.
Saki used his free hand, the one he hadn't even moved until now.
An incredibly powerful uppercut smashed against the Hollow's chin, forcibly closing its mouth, and breaking its boney teeth in the process. This time, the hit was strong enough to actually throw the monster off balance for a more reasonable amount of time, which gave Saki all the advantage he needed.
His blade was raised once more with his right hand, as his left arm fell limply on his side.
What continued was a vicious assault aimed to all parts of the Hollow's body. The giant blade wasn't able to cut through anything, so Saki used its blunt force instead. The Hollow received after attack, its opponent not even once retreating nor slowing down, striking unpredictable targets at Godspeed, not allowing it for a counterattack. The fact that he was doing it with one arm was even more frightening.
Bones were grinded to powder. Flesh was turned into paste. The Hollow's limbs were bent and bruised beyond recognition as the sword-knife kept on smashing against it with refined brutality, not showing the slightest tinge of bloodlust. It was cold and calculated, almost second-natured. The crude weapon kept attacking as if it had a will of its own.
At some point, the Hollow was finally forced to the ground, unable to withstand its own weight with a broken body.
Saki stopped striking. His adversary wasn't a serious threat anymore.
He raised his sword one last time, and as the Hollow let out a beastly whimper, he let it fall.
CRACK-
It only took one powerful movement.
The monster had been slain. Its mask was completely broken and bloodied. Its head was destroyed by the power of the blunt weapon, scattering pieces of meat across the sand.
One Hollow out of the thousands that were out there was no more.
Its body began dissipating not long after. Traces of blue energy flew into the air as the echoes of the Souls the monster had eaten were freed, mindlessly drifting through the air and absorbed by the world as they returned to their rightful place.
Saki stared at the disappearing Hollow, his darkened eyes slowly returning to their normal brown. Then, he raised his left hand to eye-level, and sighed in exasperation.
"Huh… I'm slipping again," he analyzed lazily.
Moments later, he raised his rusted sword. He stared at it, and something akin to a scowl twisted his bandages the second he changed his expression.
"Okay, you win this round too. Happy with your endless streak of victories?"
The question was met with unrequited silence, but Saki seemed to react to an answer that couldn't be heard by anyone else.
"Now, don't celebrate too soon. It's good to know there's always another chance. Let's see how long you can keep up."
~ -Bleach- ~
Saki walked aimlessly across the infinite desert of Hueco Mundo. The only trace he left behind as he trekked over hills and into shallow valleys were his ephemeral footsteps.
They disappeared with the movements of the sand yet a strange line that adorned the side of his journey remained, shallow yet still visible. It looked as if something heavy and immense was sliding its way across the land, accompanying the wandering man.
In fact, something did accompany him, except it was being dragged alongside.
The wanderer's back was somewhat hunched, product of laziness more than anything else. His bandaged feet sank on the uneven surface and tensed up as the sand entered through the gaps of the bandages themselves. It was annoying.
His left swung back and forth normally, in a lazy movement. It could have been immobile and nothing would have changed. It seemed to move not because it was needed but more because it was a habit. His right hand, on the other side, heavily pulled his giant sword across the sand, the culprit behind the long, long trail that stretched for miles finally found.
The rigidity which his right hand sported while holding the sword gave the impression of it being glued to the ancient weapon. Joints and nerves that had seemingly turned into the same rusted steel as the sword forced the limb to take a permanent hold, never once slackening.
This was the nameless man's routine. His perception of time was as degraded as his sword, but he could muster the thought that he had indeed spent some years wandering like this. He had been doing this for ages. He walked, seeking a good place to sit on and watch the moon in the sky, waiting for his inevitable end. Maybe then he would fight against a Hollow with the intention of getting eaten, but he would always end up winning any fight.
His accumulated number of victories didn't amount to any lasting result that would satisfy him. Those were transient encounters with wild beasts. What he deemed as true victory hadn't still embraced or grazed his current vessel - the body which he used and destroyed through countless fights, the body he was granted with from the moment he was born and given a name.
Saki had the foreknowledge, the certainty, that at some point he would reach his limit like any other living being.
His senses were so dulled that he couldn't really tell when he would ever reach that limit, unfortunately. So he trained his patience and waited. Death was a natural phenomenon that would sooner or later catch up to him, just like it did with everyone else.
But, as long as his sword was still in his hand, he couldn't die by his own will. The sword was the final obstacle between Saki and his long awaited eternal rest. It would always stay vigilant in front of any danger, prepared to eradicate all which held the slightest, infinitesimal possibility of hurting the man.
His only wish was to finally die. It was the only thing he imagined himself doing, as he was no different from the monsters he spent a portion of his life fighting against. He was not needed anymore anywhere else. Of course, given his record of stupid lifetime failures, it was expected he would also be unable to take his own life.
At first it was so sad he couldn't help but to cry. Now it was so ridiculous he snickered every time at the sole thought of it. Really, he should have won the prize of 'most pathetic person in existence' long ago. But of course, no one received prizes for being an utter failure, so that was that.
So, while he waited for his end, he just strolled around. Hueco Mundo turned out to be a somewhat comfortable place. Saki resonated well with the empty wasteland, so he made it his vacation retirement place for the time being. Hopefully, his funerals plan would come to fruition sooner than later and he would be freed from his forced holidays.
It was funny. Once upon a time, this place gave him chills. It wasn't necessarily evil or bad. It was empty, yet full of inhabitants desperately doing whatever they could to survive.
Now, he couldn't picture himself in any other place. Compared to the ever violent and hunger-driven Hollows, Saki was just about devoid of any kind of liveliness, so just watching them kill each other was enough entertainment for the most part. Talking with 'Adjuchas' Hollows whenever he found one was a nice surprise, since they could keep up with him to a certain extent. It wouldn't last long because Hollows preferred to eat and kill, so his sword -not Saki- killed them before they could do anything to the man in question.
His Hollow kill-count was well above the thousands, and just about the 90 percent of those kills weren't really intentional. He just wanted to have a normal conversation, but since he wasn't menacing enough, Hollows would attack him and the sword would respond accordingly.
Anyone would consider him extremely lucky. He had survived so long in such a place that contained such neighborly monsters, but honestly… for a man who wanted to disappear, it was almost nightmarish.
Fighting and walking became somewhat repetitive after the first thousand kills. The lack of interpersonal interactions had become another burden at some point, and while it wasn't absolutely necessary, Saki would have appreciated to hold some good conversations with another intelligent being from time to time. He did regret not being a talkative person when he still had people willing to listen.
Well, it's not like thinking about ghosts from the past would allow him to see them.
His current objective was searching for a 'Vasto Lorde'. That was the strongest class of Hollow that existed.
Vasto Lordes were the Hollows that had managed to complete themselves. They had regained some strong semblance of humanity, of purpose, and for that reason, not only they were far stronger, but also far easier to interact with. They didn't even need to eat.
If he found one, then maybe he wouldn't be so damn bored. He could actually talk with someone who wasn't trying to kill him. And if the Vasto Lorde tried to kill him, then it would be fine either way. Maybe the Hollow would be strong enough to overpower his sword once and for all, so he held onto that slim hope.
It was a win-win situation. Right, the problem was that Vasto Lordes were as numerous as the fingers he had in one hand, and trying to find them in a desert the size of a planet was a little hard for a lack of better description.
Basically, it's not like anything had changed at all. He had plans, and there were some possibilities, but he could only do so much right now. His only option were walking and find the next rock to sit on, or maybe a cave once he got sleepy enough to snooze off.
So he kept walking. Saki didn't have anything better to do.
He didn't find much after a few hours of walking. He was already accustomed to such a thing. Hueco Mundo was unpredictable. One second nothing was happening in its vast emptiness and the next, his surroundings were swarmed by hungry, mindless Hollows.
Not to mention…
He stopped his march and hummed.
"Ah… it seems it is nap time," he mused aloud.
A blink of his eyes later, the world had changed.
Oh, he was still in Hueco Mundo… in body only.
The sand extending infinitely in front of him was dyed in shades of blood. As he craned his neck and looked up to the sky, he could distinguish the fake moon of Hueco Mundo still hanging there. Except, this time, it was a pure red moon brilliantly gazing over everything. And, for some reason, all its attention was focused on him. It was sneering so furiously at him it could have as well grown crooked teeth to show its dislike for him.
To have an inanimate object stare at him with pure contempt blazing in its gaze was just another notch to add to his overly pathetic life. He hadn't hit rock bottom yet, it seemed.
Saki felt the familiar weight of the sword glued to his hand disappear completely. His sight abandoned the shades of blood that crept into the sky and tainted it red. In front of him, the sand was no more. Now, destroyed pavement and countless edifications toppled to the ground decorated the chaotic world he was in. It was an imagery of nightmare, as if a terribly destructive event had broken out, completely destroying what once was a tranquil city. It looked like the world itself was bleeding.
Fire rose up. The sky was filled with ashes and embers, and from it, meteors fell to the earth like heavy rain, demolishing what was already broken and drowning it in a sea of fiery flames. The impacts were far away, but the rumbles and thunderous explosions couldn't be easily ignored, even at a relatively safe distance.
Saki let his shoulders relax. He was on 'autopilot' now. He would rest while himself -that is to say, another part of him- did the actual moving outside. His mind had drifted into a deep slumber while another entity took over. Maybe he did overdo himself just before, but, of course, the other person wouldn't allow him to continue to ruin his body and mind so easily. The sword was a particularly stubborn protector.
"Man, I'm really slipping as of late. If I keep relaxing this will never end," he yawned.
He kicked a pebble obstructing his walk before his body, out of habit, continued to move forward.
He spotted a random chunk of debris. He flopped on it with a grunt.
The sky was utterly crimson now.
Not that it mattered. This place didn't actually exist. It was just a metaphorical representation of his mind. Considering its current state, it was clear his mind was anything but well. The fact itself wasn't especially surprising. What was truly remarkable is how that world still managed to exist despite the constant barrage of destruction it was subjected to. Just like him.
He didn't dislike it per say. This world was a reflection of him at the end. He couldn't hate something that was just reflecting the truth right back at him. It ran along the thought of 'it's not the mirror's fault you're ugly'.
Of course, what he truly disliked was talking with himself. Saki was able and willing to talk with just about anyone but himself. And whenever he was dragged to this wretched world, he knew he would end up talking with himself one way or another.
The man wondered when that thing would appear. He waited, expectantly, and sooner or later-
"Oi, shithead. Could you stop being a little bitch and, for a day at least, not try to get killed? Saving you is getting annoying at this point."
-There it was.
The other part of himself was not the best person to talk with. It always proposed a conversation full of swearing and sarcasm, or violent impulses and dark thoughts. Saki didn't really have the energy to get angry at anything anymore, so the excess of emotion was tiring.
"It would be easier if you just let me die, Kuro. That way, you wouldn't have to put up with me and be free of your terrible punishment, eh?" Saki said as if he was giving out a friendly advice, but the snarky tone to it was obvious.
'Kuro' openly growled at the name.
"Stop calling me that way. My fucking ears are bleeding just by hearing it," spit out the other entity with disdain. "And believe me, I would let you die like the pompous coward you are if I could. But if your retarded brain still retains something called 'memory', then I'm sure you know we share the same fate."
Yes. The entity that right now was badmouthing him was part of him. They were connected. Just like a mirror, Kuro was the reflection of the man that was Saki. If the person whose image was being reflected disappeared, the reflection would follow suit. So that's why it prevented him from ever letting go of the sword that protected him. It was a constant struggle for the spiritual control of the same body.
Neither would ever win, though. Saki was too weak-willed to actually regain total control, and Kuro was restrained and limited at this point in time.
That didn't stop either of them from doing their things whenever one managed to temporarily beat the other.
He turned around to stare at his admittedly annoying companion.
It was a woman, pure white in color. She was wearing some sort of white kimono with black edges and patterns all over it. The outfit allowed for some skin, ranging from her thighs and below, to be subtly shown. Her feet were free of bandages, and if he had been a less tired man, he would have appreciated her black toenails. It was such a fitting color for their predicament.
Her hair was equally white. It was wild and disordered, long enough to fall down her back and almost meld with her clothes thanks to their color palette. Her eyes were sharp and energetic, with the sclera being pitch black, and the pupils a brilliant yellow that had a certainly cruel light to them.
Saki stared, somewhat dumbfounded at the appearance of the person in front of him.
"…Why are you a woman?" he questioned with a serious tone this time, managing to appear confused through his bandaged face. "Sorry, I'm kind of confused now…"
She didn't try to hide her scowl.
"It's your fault I look like this, 'Mummy Man'," she responded coldly.
The woman looked down her body with a truly disgusted gaze, and then her face twisted in anger.
"Since you won't acknowledge me the way I'm supposed to be, I can't even take my original form anymore. I'm stuck in this shitty, weak, and embarrassing appearance because, just like you, I lost my identity."
Kuro crossed her arms, seizing up the bandaged man with a scornful look.
"Between not calling me by my real name and forgoing your own godforsaken name and looks, what did you think would happen?" she questioned, black nails digging into her white, white skin. She left red marks behind. "Of course, since I'm not a crybaby like you are, I managed to stay as myself far longer. But hey, you don't even care what happens to us, do you? You're doing oh so well with your new life as a dumbass vagabond and I'm just supposed to put up with it, because we're best pals for-fucking-ever."
Saki could distinctly hear the word 'bitch' at the end, loudly whispered. Kuro had the guts to lock her gaze with his as she mouthed the word. At least that part of him -well, her- didn't change with the looks. It would be weird and really gross if that person that always tried to take over him got mellow all of a sudden.
"You look very cute, Kuro. If you just only were somewhat tolerable, I would have tried hitting on you," Saki humored her. If only his tone wasn't wavering, his sarcastic joke would have been perfect.
"Shut your hole, jackass," she instantly responded, not even slightly shaken at the compliment. "It's already enough for me to look like this. I'm not going to play along your shitty theatrics. And even if I was, by some miracle of the heavens, "interested ", it wouldn't be for a gutless-ass coward like you."
Kuro kicked a rock violently, and started walking in circles. Kick, walk, stomp, kick, walk, stomp repeated a dozen of times. It was almost adorable to see the violent personification of his instincts unable to do anything to stop Saki from being himself. She could only rage about it.
Cute.
She snapped her neck in his direction. Her squinted eyes told him he might have said that particularly offending word aloud. "You better not even murmur my true name by accident, because the moment you do, I'm slicing you in half and taking control permanently," the woman threatened.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, oh Great Spirit of the sword," Saki said as he dramatically raised his hands in the air. "I will not incur your wrath and thus protect myself from your unyielding fury."
"You have been incurring my wrath since the day you were born."
Saki smacked his lips. Her cold delivery of her hate had lost its charm after the hundred times.
Although it was kind of hard to take her seriously, she wasn't particularly lying. She had no need to. Names were a pretty powerful element when concerning souls, as it gave them individuality and a strong basis to build their strength upon.
The moment he uttered her true name, he would be acknowledging her spirit, who she truly was. At that moment, he would probably cease to exist. He was too weak, too worn down to even compete against that other part of himself.
Saki breathed in the smell of fire and decided to shut up and stare at the crimson sky, lit up by the fire below and the blood moon above.
He heard footsteps approaching from behind. Then, freezing cold hands grabbed both of his shoulders. The nails dug into his bandaged flesh, and he began feeling a slow breathing besides him.
"The clock is ticking, King," she mocked. "Do you think I will let you rot away, just like that? It's not like I care anymore for someone who doesn't value his own life. But…"
Her distorted voice tickled his ears, sending painful chills down his spine.
"…I will be taking this body as payment for the troubles you caused me. I did so many times before. What's stopping me from doing it again? You could even let me do as I please right now, sit back, and wallow in shame for the rest of your miserable existence. It's not like you have anything better to do."
Saki sighed, not really intimidated by Kuro's menacing intentions. His younger self may have been scared at the prospect, but he had experienced enough things to not really mind right now. However, his easy-going handling of the conversation didn't mean he wanted that kind of destiny.
One thing was dying and finally letting go of everything. It was another thing entirely to be imprisoned forever in your mind, without a way out. If he lost his connection to the exterior world, Saki could just go irreversible insane.
"Sorry, but that's never happening. What you can do is accept that your fate is the same as mine's, and I decide my own fate. You yourself said it. We're not partners, or friends. We're the same person. Your word holds no weight to me. You're just a voice that echoes terrible ideas in my ear, and I won't listen."
Kuro clicked her tongue at Saki's response, annoyed once again.
"Let's see if I remain a simple voice when I'm done with you."
She began walking away from him. He heard her turning around, her long clothes slapped by the wind as she gazed at him with eyes that never stopped judging him.
"A weak person like you has no right to control me. Sooner or later, I will overthrow you, and become King."
And just like that, she disappeared from sight.
This was not new for Saki. It was always the same whenever he returned to his inner world. He had already given up a long time ago on everything. He was a coward in every sense of the word, and he knew it. Cowards were cast aside. Cowards were forgotten, without even giving them a sliver of hate or contempt.
His destiny, as long as he was a coward, would be to fade permanently from existence, without anybody but himself ever remembering why he fought, or why he gave up.
Saki didn't mind. That was a nice destiny, compared to other people he once knew.
The only downside was that he was bored. Travelling to another place wasn't one of Saki's priorities, not to mention he didn't have nearly enough energy to open a pathway out of Hueco Mundo anyway. His only hobby was talking with and killing Hollows, and even then, he didn't really fight. Kuro was the one who took control and disposed of the enemies herself, so he didn't get to enjoy much action.
So he waited, like the coward he was. That's the only thing Saki was supposed to be doing right now, because he was just a fragment of what was once a brave and noble warrior. The fighting had long since ended, and said warrior wasn't needed anymore.
What irked him, even after years of wandering Hueco Mundo, was the unsettling peace that lingered in the air.
Everything was stagnant. Unchanged. One wouldn't think that a highly chaotic battle had taken place throughout different worlds, different planes of existence.
It was as if everything he had lived, everything he had to go through, never happened at all. There were no particular changes. Everything stayed as he remembered it before the war took place.
But, of course, that was too convenient. That was just product of his madness. He wanted to believe so.
His journey was already over. There was no great opponent to defeat, no great evil to stop. There were no people he could return to. There was no place he could call home anymore.
Saki was fine with that. It would be just a sick joke to suddenly find out that there was Hope, that there was a possibility to save what he had already lost. He didn't need jokes. He just needed closure.
He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.
A few hours after, he woke up. He was standing on the sand of Hueco Mundo once again.
Around him, countless bodies of Hollows laid dead and destroyed. It was the vivid scenery of a monstrous slaughterhouse. Pools of red liquid were slowly absorbed by the sand, darkening the bone-white grounds of the desert. Deep blue particles of light dispersed from the Hollows' bodies, allowing for an almost beautiful spectacle of flying glimmers to take place.
Blood stained the sword. On its still wet surface, the face of the above moon was reflected with a crimson coloration.
With a sigh, the man started walking once again.
He had to keep moving forward. As long as there was strength in his legs and his soul, he couldn't simply wait, as much as he wanted to. He had to keep moving forward, even if his future was still uncertain.
He had to keep moving forward, even if it only meant he was rushing to his end.
That's all for today.
I'm sure most of the readers will have an idea of who Saki is, and what Kuro is. I know you will be confused and probably interested in how everything got to this point. Since it's a major, very major change from canon, I can't simply reveal it from the get-go. Showing everything isn't the most interesting way of handling a story, after all. I will try to write something that truly catches your attention, but you will have to bear with me.
I accept all reviews, and I'm very eager to know what you think! Please, try to transmit your thoughts as clearly as possible. If the story's good, tell me why. If the story's bad, tell me why. If you just want to share your impartial view, then do so by all means! The reviewers really help me move the story forward.
Finally, if you're indeed interested in the story, please don't ask for updates. I take my sweet, sweet time to write and update whenever I think it's right, and give you a nice chapter to read. I don't like abandoning stories, but I will probably be silent for some time before I appear again (a month is the usual deadline).
I hope you enjoyed this prologue! I'll try to make sure the quality stays at all times good, if it was to your liking.
Stay at home, and stay healthy!
(5/4/2020)