I know it's been too long since I updated. Thank you all for your incredible patience.
Enjoy
/ NATURE / NURTURE /
Their wielder knew the truth.
About himself.
About his parents.
About the Hollow.
Mostly.
The Swordsmith had sent them away, forcing the King to confront his past before reforging his weapon, and he had found his answers. Answers enough for him to feel confident in returning to the Royal Realm. Answers enough for him to put the pieces together and complete the whole puzzle.
Only he wasn't putting them together.
Not completely.
The air buzzed in the sideways city. Anticipation, agitation, the peace of answers combined with the fervent why why why of more questions being shoved to the side and not looked at, save for quick, sidelong glances.
Though their wielder was known to be exceptionally dense on occasion, the Hollow was sure it wasn't stupidity preventing him from seeing the truth At least, not entirely. And, as much as he wanted to, the Hollow couldn't really blame his King. A lot had happened and there was little time to process it before more was coming their way.
The return of the Quincies to the limelight of Soul Society
The Noble Captain asking— pleading for their help.
A sword through the King's neck.
Asauchis.
Masaki.
Yhwach.
The Hollow heaved a sigh, reveling in the moment of quiet peace that was surely not going to last. Idly, he rubbed at his throat. The wound wasn't there anymore, but he could still feel the tingling numbness of the King's tendons and arteries being severed by sharpened steel, along with the acidic burn of pure Quincy reiatsu rushing to block as much of the damage as it could.
Blut Vene had saved the King's life.
The Other had willed it forward, breaking his self-imposed limits and drawing upon the core of his own power.
He had willed it in spite of the fact that the attack was coming from his own hand.
A defiance of his own nature.
Insubordination against his very self.
Said Other was stoic; standing ramrod straight nearby, silent as usual. Though the Hollow could easily pick up on the undercurrent of tension and unease. The Other spoke slowly, quietly, "This is what I was hoping to avoid. This is why I didn't want him to fight. I knew all along… this path would only lead to him."
"But that's not really what you were worried about, was it?" The Hollow intercut, a knowing glint in his eye. "You're worried about our King facing him, sure. But you're worried about yourself more. You're worried about having to go against your past promises— your millenia-old grudges— yourself." The Other's shoulders tensed, an involuntary tell that showed the Hollow how spot-on his analysis was.
"When it comes down to it, will I be able to do what is right?"
Right by me wielder?
Right by myself?
The Hollow heard both in the simple question.
The Other continued his monolog, "It would have been easier if you had not intervened in the first place. If you had let me destroy his power before its fruition."
"Oh? Blaming me for these troubles is hardly fair with all you've done to help him grow." The Hollow chided. "Come now, it's much too late for doubt, don't you think?"
The corner of the Other's pursed lips twitched downwards. "I expected you to be more sympathetic. You should understand the struggle of fighting against your nature fairly well, afterall."
"You're misunderstanding me again." The Hollow muttered, turning away.
Everyone always was.
"How so?"
"It was never my nature I was fighting against. I always knew, deep down, what I was meant to do. Who I was meant to be. It was turning away from all of that, trying to be what everyone else— what you thought I was, that caused the struggle. The pain." His eyes dropped to his hands: white skin, black nails. His own disregard of his split nature; trying to be either a zanpakuto or a hollow. The futility of forcing a dichotomy.
He wasn't either.
He was both.
The Hole. The blot of hollow energy had always been there, inside his wielder— inside himself. Even if they had not been forced into hollowification, it would have happened eventually; an agonizing process that would have only caused more harm if allowed to fester.
Zangetsu had never been just one thing.
"I think it was always meant to be like this."
Inevitable.
"There were plenty of opportunities to kill him if that's what we really wanted." The Hollow turned back, leveling his gaze at the Other. "You already made your decision a long time ago. We both did."
The Other only bowed his head further, dark, windswept hair shadowing his face.
"Keep him safe." The Other concluded. He turned to his pale companion.
"Keep him safe." The Hollow repeated.
The Other frowned again. "We will not be able to do that this time, I'm afraid."
The Hollow looked at him, really looked at him, and tried to imagine the proud figure he had once been, standing on his tower of lies behind their wielder. Guiding a sword he didn't know how to use as best he could without the Hollow's help.
"He'll learn the truth soon." The Other almost whispered.
And there it was again: that fear. Swirling in the air like poison. They had worked so hard to rid that fear from their world entirely.
Look forward, move forward.
"He'll learn the truth, and then he will abandon me"
Stupid. As if the Other wasn't aware of how naive and forgiving their wielder could be.
As if the Hollow hadn't torn out his King's own heart without much consequence.
As if they both wouldn't follow him willingly into the oblivion that certainly awaited ahead, even if he did try and cast them aside.
He needed them.
And they needed him.
"We'll see." was all the Hollow could offer
"We'll see."
-0-
The Hollow bowed before his King, the asauchi's deep purple-black skin flaking away to reveal pristine white underneath. He knelt, naked, his masked face lowered in subservience, one arm lifted as an invitation.
The moment of truth.
His King had recognized the Hollow's importance before: during the three months of fighting to attain their final form. But he had been merged with the Other for that, combined with the more "presentable" aspect of the King's power in hopes of not frightening him off. Cut down to be lesser, more palpable.
There was nowhere to hide here.
The King would have to accept him alone and completely.
"It's you." was all the King said, the slightest edge of surprise in his voice.
The Hollow wished, desperately, that he could respond. But something beyond his control stayed his tongue. 'Of course,' he would say, 'it's always been me.'
The short trip to the forge passed by in a blur. New sights and sounds assaulted the Hollow's stunted senses. Everything felt all too quiet and deafeningly loud at the same time. Each step shook his frame, each caress of the breeze was electric across his bare skin.
For the first time, he felt something other than glass and metal beneath his feet.
For the first time, he heard his wielder's voice speaking his name clearly through the air.
For the first time, he was beyond the reach of the Other. His thoughts and feelings— the very reiatsu he was made of— was entirely his own.
It was nothing short of euphoria.
And yet… the Hollow's dark eyes were drawn to the person in front of him. The only thing that truly mattered.
His King.
His Wielder.
His Partner.
The Hollow wasn't supposed to be here; outside and away from his home.
Not a moment later, the Swordsmith called him forward and his physical form failed. He didn't resist the pull. Pure reishi broke free of the limitations, returning him to his primordial, pre-awakened form. He rushed forward, into the flames and the molten metal awaiting its new soul. Ready to take the shape he was always meant to be.
He knew this feeling, altogether new and yet completely familiar:
Zangetsu.
His partner was right next to him, pouring in more and more energy. Blurring the already faint line between them.
No longer Hollow and Shinigami
No longer King and Horse.
Zangetsu would have laughed if he could.
Haven't you realized it already?
Was he talking to himself or his wielder?
Isn't it obvious?
Oh. Right. It didn't matter.
We're one in the same.
There was a discussion happening somewhere, far away in a place that should have never existed as it broke apart and reformed with everything else. Zangetsu couldn't hear the words being said, but he did understand the meaning: Acceptance.
And for the first time, Zangetsu felt whole.
Awake.
Alive.