NOTES: I usually try to alternate which story I update, but this one has been on my mind the most.
Title is from LUCIDS by Nicholas Podany on YouTube. Go check out the series and the score.
Sorry about the re-upload. I wasn't happy with it at first.
SOMEWHERE ABOVE NOTHING / MILES BELOW OK
The Hollow awoke with a start. Back in the void.
He gasped for air, mind frantically clawing for purchase against the feeling of drowning.
Drowning in water.
In blood.
In battle and instincts and the desire to kill.
Coppery saliva pooled in his mouth, dripping free as he pulled in ragged breaths.
His head felt heavy and crowded, too many things pressing in all around and making it hard to focus. Hard to think. A shaky hand reached up to press against his temples, but clawed fingers met with something smooth and cool and much too rigid to be skin.
The Hollow knew instantly what it was.
He wrenched the helmet-like mask of his face, tossing it carelessly to the side and pulling in fresh breath. Without even thinking, one hand fiisted the cloth over his aching chest. A sharp stab of pain brought him to his hands and knees. He felt raw. Exposed. Pulled too thin. His thoughts like nails on a chalkboard in his own head.
"Steady yourself, Hollow." A voice reached him. "Breathe through it."
The Hollow growled out of habit, but nonetheless obeyed; slowly allowing his mind and nerves to calm as he focused on the sudden changes that had overcome himself: sharp black claws, a wild mane of hair spilling down his back and over his shoulders, bristly-soft fur at the edges of his new outfit, the horned mask that lay off to the side.
More hollow.
At least the hole in his chest was sealed.
For now.
The abyss around him was as barren and agonizing as before, though space was now accompanied by the heavy feeling of water all around. It took the Hollow a moment to realize that he wasn't alone. The Other was inexplicably there, standing passively off to the side in his bankai form. Right. The Other had told him to collect himself.
The Other!
"You— King!" The Hollow rasped though choking coughs. The words raked through his burning throat.
"Worry not, our Wielder is alive."
It worked. Of course it worked! The Hollow wanted to grin. A dull pain thudded in his left temple and he settled for a sharp wince. "...good."
"You are aware of what you have done, correct?" The Other wasted no time in diving into the inquisition.
The Hollow barked a laugh, "You think I'd be able to do something like that by accident?"
Ice-blue eyes narrowed, unpleased with the response. "You do not regret your actions."
"The only regret is that King didn't get more time to mutilate that worthless Espada." The Hollow answered truthfully. After what the green-eyed demon had done to his King, carving him up was the least of what he deserved. The Hollow had been eager to slowly rip him to pieces before the Quincy shoved his way into the fight he had no business being in.
"You could have killed him." The Other said. He wasn't talking about the Cuatro anymore.
Too many questions. Too much talking. The Hollow sneered, "Shut up. I don't need a lecture. I don't need you to tell me how dangerous that was." The blood still trickling into his mouth was a testament to the toll it had taken on his body and spirit. Such drastic transformations in rapid succession had been... not ideal.
"That is not what I meant and you know it." The Other tipped his head to the side, calculating. "You could have killed him, but you didn't. You could have eaten his soul and no one would have been able to stop you. But you didn't." The Other said it distastefully. A puzzle piece that didn't fit into his narrow world.
The Hollow held back a curse, not liking how it felt to have Other peeling back his skin to poke at his motives. But— as much as he loathed to admit it— the Other was right. As challenging as it had been to hold himself back from ripping apart every vaguely-living in front of him, it had been even harder to refrain from turning that same desire inward; the pull to fully consume the glimmer of blue-white-red-black cradled in his grasp. To snap his jaws shut on that burning, shining, quivering, sliver of a soul. Kindling for a fire raging out of control.
This is your power, your life, you could be whole again.
It would have been so easy to make good on the promise to become the King himself.
The Hollow shuddered, forcing back the strange mix of hunger and disgust. He got to his feet slowly and ignored the Other's piercing gaze to grab the discarded mask. His own mask. A spark of possessiveness ignited in his chest. In his short existence, had he ever had anything to call his own? Gazing into the menacing facade, the Hollow felt the urge to slip it on again. To hide his fear and shame and weakness like all hollows did.
Forcing his energy to the surface like that had untethered the Hollow from the King and the Other alike. Without those balancing forces, his own being had begun to come undone. The core of his self being eclipsed by the Hole that was also him. He had been aware, of course, enough to remember every slice of his sword through the Espada that dared to think about claiming his King. Aware enough to remember shearing off pieces of himself to appease the hunger inside.
"You almost killed yourself to ensure his survival." The Other narrowed his eyes, "You didn't have to give back control. He was too far gone to even recognize that you saved him. All he knows is the aftermath. So why? What benefit do you hope to reap from this?"
The Hollow growled. How many times would he have to repeat himself? "I told you, didn't I? He's mine. I won't allow anyone to push themselves in between us." Not the Cuatro, not the Quincy, and certainly not him. "I'll take back what's owed to me and make him strong. I don't care what I have to do. For him I'll—"
Something inside of the Hollow shifted: a pang of sorrow and longing— familiar words on his tongue.
For him, I'll do anything.
Gold eyes fell back to the mask.
That's the sacrifice I'm willing to make.
He didn't understand the feeling twisting in his gut.
Even if that means becoming a monster.
The Other stopped, echoing footsteps falling into heavy silence.
"I think I'm beginning to understand you" The Other broke the silence.
The words swirled in the cold water.
The Hollow wanted to growl and snap and shout because how dare he presume such a thing. The idea was absurd. How could he— the Other— the thing that had usurped his right as a zanpakuto and stolen his name— How dare he claim understanding!?
"You're not Zangetsu."
How dare he! How dare he!
The Other was unaffected by the Hollow's obvious simmering rage "You're not Zangetsu," he repeated, "At least, not the same Zangetsu that existed before."
The Hollow's eyes narrowed with suspicion. What was the Other playing at?
A sudden realization hit him: 'our wielder.'
the Other had said 'our wielder' in reference to the King.
Our Wielder.
"You're different. Hollow. And yet, you hold pieces of his power. You have a right to his name"
Ours.
"You have... more of a right than I do."
Shock, disbelief, and confusion all flickered across the Hollow's face. Was this a trick? A sick joke? Or did the Other really, truly, see him for once? "I've been telling you that from the beginning," he did nothing to keep the scathing tone out of his voice, "why start believing me now?"
The Other's gaze was steady as their eyes met, "You know why."
And he did. Just like he knew his name, he knew the reason.
He knew and he hated it.
"You know what our Wielder is up against. He needs us both."
"Che. You think he'll accept me after what I just did?" The Hollow growled, "You said it yourself, He doesn't remember that I helped him." He probably didn't even remember begging for the aid in the first place, or giving permission.
The Other's face was impassive, "That will not be a problem. I will take care of that."
The Hollow's eyes narrowed, reading between the lines. "You're still going to lie to him."
The Other tightened his jaw and met the Hollow's eyes with a sharp look.
"If we told him the truth, we could obliterate that traitor" The Hollow continued
"It would be too much for him to take at the moment. He needs to rely on us. He will not be able to do that if we break the bonds we have already forged."
"If you break the bonds you forged." corrected the Hollow.
The Other didn't reply.
The Hollow got the sense that his next moves would be critical. Their dynamic was going through a shift. In a fluid motion, he slipped his black mask over his face. He wasn't hiding though, the fear and uncertainty had burned away. No, he put on the mask simply because it felt right. The mask was him and he was the mask. With it on, he felt complete.
He strode confidently towards the Other, looming over. A white sword materialized in his right hand.
Clawed and horned and armed. The Other at his mercy.
"What benefit do you get from this?" The Hollow asked, grinning at the ability to throw the Other's words back at him. "It's not like you to help him altruistically. Remember: you were the first one to try and kill him."
"I..." The Other lowered his gaze, finally submitting. "I never expected to care so much for him. I do not know if it was time or Zangetsu's interference that changed my perception, but... I want our Wielder to be strong." Blue eyes lifted again, defiant. "I understand why you did what you did for him. I apologize that I did not see sooner."
"I still don't trust you" The Hollow raised his new blade, pointing it at the Other's throat. "However, the King needs me. Needs us. So I'll do what I can." Still hidden behind the mask, his face broke into a wide grin, "Just don't get in my way. You try to keep me away from him and I'll make what happened to the Cuatro look like a sparring warmup."
The Other offered a sly smile, "I wouldn't even think of it."