Once again Shachi narrowly missed the giant, meaty Kakuja arms that extended out towards him. His shoulder began to throb, still baring and open,but slowly healing, which blood so eagerly spurted out of, trailing down his arm and dripping off his fingertips. He would've put his free hand to it, but he needed it to be able to provide a good offense. Truth be told- the SS rated Orca was not very skilled when it came to kagune based combat- he preferred to use his fist in a fight as it seemed more practical to him. Exposing Ones Kagune, as strong as they were, also made one over confident and could lead to their eventual downfall.

Jason was losing his mind, or at least he felt like he was. He felt like he was watching the fight that was ensuing through some other person's eyes. Like he was wearing a mask. Why is she here!? He screamed inside his mind, as he watched the two arms that had formed over his own thrash around at the long-haired man in front of him, whom of which he'd already landed a hit on.

He was fast, and it made whatever was controlling Yakumo's body fucking mad.

It's not my fault! He argued with himself. He knew it was a lie. It was Yamori! He made me do it! He exclaimed, blaming his other personality for actions he was responsible for in the past. I don't want her to see me again! Not like this! It HURTS! The now raving Yakumo spat, anger and sadness making his voice quiver, as well as his lower lip, creating wrinkles at his metaphysical chin.

Then his view was removed, replaced with complete blackness. Yakumo could only guess as to what was going on outside of his head now... He was certain Yamori had taken over.

Yakumo felt a sudden rush of despair after that. He was alone, afraid, and sad inside the darkness of his own shattering mind. Then, he fell to his metaphysical knee's, touching an invisible floor. The area he was in now was black. Strangely enough though, he could see his own physical form just fine. His suit was a sharp contrast to the darkness of the world and his blonde hair also shown vibrantly against it.

None of which he was particularly interested in.

"It's not my fault..." He whimpered, grabbing his head tightly and closing his eye's. "I didn't mean it... she didn't deserve it... She didn't do anything wrong... BUT I COULDN"T HELP HER!" He continued to argue, not sure if he believed it or not. "I WANTED TO!... I didn't want her to hate me..." He sniveled, letting his arms fall limply to his side.

Then, he felt a soft, gentle touch caress his cheek, sending a bit of euphoric nostalgia into him. "I don't hate you, Yakumo..."

Yakumo's body was now that of a child. One with black hair and a scrawny body... Himself as a child. The contrast was stark. Who could have guessed that such a scrawny brat could get so large? But it didn't really matter anymore...

He then leaned into the woman... his mother. His head resting against her chest softly as he wept. "I'm sorry momma..." he chocked out, "I didn't mean to let you die..."

His mothers black hair then fell over his own face, caressing his nose gently as she comforted her son, dragging her finger slowly over his forehead and then pulling out a nail that he just now realized was in his forehead. In fact, they were all over his body... But he didn't feel them... He had a euphoric eeling when they were removed, but he never felt pain...

"I know you didn't..." She replied, with a calming, relaxing voice.

Yakumo felt like he was becoming more and more tired as he felt her remove the nails from his arms, his chest, his stomach, his legs... They were gently, and carefully removed...

"I love you momma... I miss you..." He said as he felt his eye's grow heavy...

And as he pulled out the last nail, she replied, "I love you too..."

Shachi had remained still for a while. The kakuja who had rendered his right arm practically useless and had kept him running for a godd 15 minuets now had abruptly stopped moving. Of course, the obvious answer was the hand that Shachi had rushed through the mans heart as he rushed him, but the martial artist was never one to be to confident in anything... But this time he could be.

As the armor-like Kagune began to fade he could feel the mans body weight plummet onto his arm. Sighing, Shachi gently lowered the large man down to the floor, laying him down gently in a show of respect. He had lost, but at least he had died fighting.

It was almost poetic, because he could have sworn, as he looked in the eye's of the man who had fallen to his hand, he could almost see a bit of happiness... but some regret.

I know, I know, It's been a while, but I have been under the weather and busy lately so I haven't had much time to work on this. And I realize that It's short. But I felt Yakumo's death would be overshadowed by what I had originally intended to go into this chapter. Mostly, I just wanted you to know that I'm not giving up on this story, I just have to get somethings together.