HALCYON DAYS
Volume Two: Retrograde Masquerade
Chapter Six
The Ishida household was a lonely place. Every square inch was furnished to an inch of its life with opulent trappings, from a grandfather clock adorned with a crystal pendulum to a flat screen television – a technological marvel that was barely available in the 2001 market – situated in the living room.
Most of the quarters had rungs of compactly stacked books lining the walls, detailing either medical knowledge or Quincy lore. Uryū's father may have rejected the Craft, but he still surrounded himself with the culture's regalia. There were insignias everywhere; the two stories were practically a shrine to Quincy identity.
Even though Ryūken renounced his late father, Sōken, he never threw out a single heirloom given to him by the old man.
Uryū was grateful for that much. Growing up neglected while surrounded by a trove of Quincy academia allowed him to read up on his peoples' history for hours on end, educating himself on the most complicated of spells. A lot of the prowess and technique that he used to surprise Mayuri Kurotsuchi came straight from the books arraying his childhood home.
Uryū was practicing a game of Go against himself in his private study, carefully plunking down his imaginary opponent's marble to further solidify a brilliant pattern. It was going to be difficult to outwit himself and prevail.
A crunch sounded out from the other room. A sizzling pop, like walnuts cracking. Uryū perked up at the discordant noise, but bolted upright when a particular scent reached his nostrils.
He knew it well; he last smelt it when he challenged Ichigo Kurosaki to a Hollow hunting competition.
No way.
Trying not to make a sound, he got up from his chair and slinked over into the kitchen. He slowly approached the marble island at the center of the room. It had crumbs of Hollow bait strewn across the surface.
A shard of panic splintered Uryū straight down the middle.
The icy fear gave way to a throbbing instinct of fight or flight. Something was rising up from the floor beneath him.
Uryū swan dived across the kitchen and barrel-rolled into a coiled pounce. The fabric of space where he had just been standing parted like a curtain and up rose a silhouette in the shape of a sarcophagus.
It had no arms; just a levitating cylinder of white with a gaping chasm at its center and a perforated fringe lining its shoulders. A cracked skull adorned its pale face, jagged teeth arraying a swollen, purplish tongue.
A Menos Grande?! Uryū observed, sweat beading down his brow. It was an even more complete Menos than the monster he faced the other night.
The Menos lolled out its impossibly long tongue and swung it like a whip, the appendage hissing across the kitchen and cleaving clean through the cabinets, island, and refrigerator, smashing everything into smithereens.
Uryū rolled away, narrowly missing the tongue's sweep. Shards of the kitchen's wreckage rained down as he sprung up and sprinted across the hallway.
The levitating ghoul silently followed him.
Uryū ran past a bookcase situated against the left wall and punched a strategically-slotted book as he sprinted by, triggering a trap. He looked back and saw the Menos following him with almost serene poise, its tongue lashing out again.
The muscle surged towards Uryū and nearly reached him before a guillotine composed of Reishi shot down from the ceiling and cleaved through the space between them. The energy blade sliced the tongue in two, sending the tip bouncing impotently off of Uryū's back and landing on the carpet to writhe mindlessly.
All of those hours spent secretly setting traps under his father's nose had finally paid off.
Uryū watched the Menos wail, flailing its butchered tongue indignantly and painting the walls with its blood. The fleshy stump bubbled and out sprouted a fresh tip, the beast's central limb pristinely regenerated. The Menos pressed on, undeterred.
It was like a repeat of his skirmish with Bloodmaw. But this time Kurosaki wasn't going to be there to save him.
I have to take its head.
He continued to sprint down the hallway, pulling back his sleeve and pinching a band wrapped around his bicep. He drew a cerulean-hued garrote and pulled it taut. Reaching the end of the hallway, he turned and ran down an iron staircase and down into the apartment's spacious library.
It was decadent, with shelves upon shelves of priceless books while stray armaments lay propped on the tables. Uryū skipped in a frenzy across the hall and leapt up onto a birchwood desk, spinning around to confront the beast.
The Menos entered the chamber like an exultant wraith and shot its tongue down towards Uryū with the velocity of a battering ram. The Quincy leapt up towards his attacker, his feet landing on the slick tongue and sliding upward like a skateboarder grinding on a rail. He waited until he was within a yard of the Menos and somersaulted over it, spreading his garrote across its face.
If he completed the flip, his Quincy thread would slice clean through the monster's head. Instead, the Menos' tongue slung around and wrapped around Uryū's left ankle, catching him mid-air.
In the space of a blink, Uryū was flung like a bola across the library. He landed with a splintering crash against a towering shelf of books, sliding down onto the rug while dozens of dislodged tomes rained down upon him.
The Menos roved in his direction with eerie poise and shot its tongue forward again. Uryū raised up a hardcover book as if to shield his face and simultaneously ducked, the surging tongue smashing through the tome and lodging itself between the buckling shelves.
Uryū rolled away from underneath the wriggling appendage and sprung back up, grasping an ornamental halberd propped up beside the bookshelf. He swung the staff across a vase perched on an adjacent table, smashing it open. Quincy Silver sloshed out from the broken pot, catching on the halberd's blade and igniting it with blue fire.
Uryū brandished his spiky torch while backing away from the Menos, sweeping the pole back and forth. The monster chanced a swing of its tongue once more, and Uryū speared his crackling halberd straight through it, the blade's hissing-hot Reishi melting the muscle.
The Menos retracted its bubbling tongue with a wail and then seeped down into the floor, as if submerging itself beneath ocean water.
Uryū stood alone in the library, struggling to steady his breath. The halberd's azure torchlight reflected off of his glasses, hiding the fear in his eyes.
It can reappear from any direction, he thought, trying to calm his mind and follow the Hollow Reiatsu's trajectory.
The mirror situated on the wall behind him cracked straight down the center, spidering the glass. Uryū looked back at his refracted reflection, only for it to burst apart as the Menos' tongue shout out straight at him.
Uryū cleaved his halberd down, only for the monster's tongue to snake along the staff and rip it from his grip. The Menos phased out from the wall, snapping the halberd in half and tossing its splinters aside. It shot its tongue forth again and caught Uryū right in the chest, sending him flying across the chamber and smashing against another bookcase.
Uryū groaned as the shelves ground against his back. The beast's appendage pressed him deeper against the shelf while it slowly floated towards him.
Suddenly, a blinding missile composed of pure light roared past, incinerating the Menos' tongue upon impact. Uryū felt the pressure leave his solar plexus and he fell onto his knees, clutching at his chest and gasping for air. He craned his head up and beheld his savior.
Ryūken Ishida stood at the library entrance, his white Heilig Bogen drawn and ready with another bolt of condensed Reishi. He cast a withering glare down at his son, then returned his attention to the monster.
The Menos reared upon its attacker, struggling to regenerate its cauterized tongue. Before it could sprout another, Ryūken fired a Heilig Pfeil straight through its skull. The Menos' entire top half erupted into viscera, spraying blood and innards onto Uryū.
"A Hollow's instant regeneration isn't that bothersome if you have enough brute force to put it down in one strike," Ryūken remarked.
He lifted up his elegant, creamy bow. There was a pulse, and the weapon shrunk down to the size of a knickknack in the palm of his hand. He tucked it into his coat's breast pocket, then produced a pack of cigarettes.
"I-I don't understand," Uryū stammered, the Menos' guts smearing his glasses. "Why?"
Ryūken lipped a cigarette from the cartridge and snapped his fingers, emitting a pinpoint spark to light it. After taking a long drag and exhaling savoringly, he began striding towards his son.
"Why did I lure that Hollow into our home?" he mused, blowing a velvety waft of smoke. "I wanted to see whether I was imagining things or if you really did throw away your meagre powers. Even if we sacrifice our Craft, our lineage hangs around us in the form of Reikyō. Your genetic stink has been catnip for Hollows this whole time."
"I mean why are you armed with a Quincy bow?" Uryū gasped, completely shellshocked. "Why did you just fire a Heilig Bowen? Why? Why do you have Quincy powers? You renounced us."
"Us?" Ryūken sneered. "You speak as though you are the Quincy and I am a mere man. The reverse is true: my powers are harder to get rid of than yours were. Whether I like it or not, I am the sole heir to the knowledge and skills of Ishida Sōken. I am the last true Quincy, and the craft will die with me. Now, come."
He dropped his cigarette and ground it with his shoe before strolling away.
Uryū took a moment to determine whether he had any broken bones, counting one cracked rib, then shuffled up and limped after his father. Ryūken wordlessly led Uryū into a corner of the apartment that he had always been forbidden from entering. They came upon a stainless steel door with a combination pad to the right.
"Avert your eyes," Ryūken ordered.
Uryū begrudgingly looked away while his father entered the passcode. The door unsealed with a groan and slid open, revealing a fully stocked armory of Quincy weaponry.
"You've got to be kidding me," Uryū cursed under his breath.
He could have really used such an armory before leaving for Soul Society. He may not have even needed to sacrifice his powers if that were the case.
He stepped inside and marveled at the assortment of treasures. Many of the objects were familiar to him; he had read about them in his grandfather's books but never dreamed of seeing them in person.
"Since you don't have the ability to utilize any of these weapons anymore, I see no harm in revealing them to you," Ryūken said while sorting through a shelf. "Here. This charm will make you less of an appetizing target."
He drew back a silver chain laced through a thumb-sized Quincy cross and handed the necklace to Uryū.
"Wear this to suppress your Reikyō. You'll still be useless against Hollows, but you will no longer be singled out by them."
Uryū looked at his father uneasily before accepting the charm and wreathing it around his bruised neck. They wordlessly exited the armory, the door sealing behind them.
"You should have told me about your situation immediately," Ryūken chided him. "Your demise would have been inevitable and swift without my intervention."
He turned away and began strolling down the hallway.
"Ryūken," Uryū called after him. "When you said you're heir to grandfather's knowledge… does that include how to restore a Quincy's power?"
Ryūken turned back and glared at his son with acute annoyance.
"Go to bed," he said before turning away again and resuming his stride. "Tomorrow morning I'll send for cleaners to come and fix the mess you've made of my kitchen and library. You can pay them with your own savings."
