Why did Hogyoku send me here? Into this world, into this age... in these realities? Why into a man, into the weakest being? Was this my secret desire, which even I was not aware of? The consequence of the collapse and fall?
I did not know. My awakening in the weak body of a human being was... unexpected.
This is the first time I realize defeat. Defeat at the hand of my creation. More and, at the same time, less than a person has managed to surpass me. The highest stage of evolution, a God, a king who has discarded his useless retinue.
For the first time in my life, I felt fear... but not because I was defeated. There was a chance for it, I never denied it. You can't calculate everything. I could have fallen many times, even as a young Shinigami, making global plans. I could have died in battle with the Empty Ones, but my "comrades" died instead. I myself forced them to die for me, giving their lives for a friend, comrade or loved one. Everyone chose for themselves, I just had to push them to the "right" choice.
Once I managed to awaken shikai. Kyoka Suigetsu. He told me his name himself, there were no battles, no lengthy conversations and philosophical speeches with a reflection of his spirit, his strength. He knew me better than anyone in the world, the only intelligent being who understood me. Accepted my goals, approved of them...
I did not consider Kyoka Suigetsu to be an ordinary embodiment of my soul, as many Shinigami did. Yes, this is a part of me, but it does not cease to be reasonable, with a different character from the owner of the zanpakto, its own thoughts and actions. It was more convenient for me to perceive him as otherwise reasonable, that he could listen to my plans and look at them from a different point of view, different from mine. At first, the interlocutor helped me a lot.
Perhaps it is because of this that we managed to become one.
With the acquisition of a shikai that allows you to manipulate all five senses of a reasonable person, everything has become much easier. I began to quickly accumulate strength, to set up the first experiments, embodying my genius in the real world, to study the world around me, learning about it... rot.
The world wasn't perfect. I wanted to change it, and I, like no one else, understood what was needed for this. Strength, army, intelligence, power, faith... many factors.
But I wasn't perfect myself. Shinigami had many limitations... the soul had many limitations. She slowly grew in strength, the honed mind began to rust over time, the old age of the soul and even the ephemeral possibility of growing to such a level of strength that the soul simply could not withstand – all this cast a shadow on my plans and forced me to look with renewed vigor for ways to solve a thousand and one upcoming problems.
Was I a genius? What is genius? Is the person who was led by the puppeteer's nose all his life, but at the last second cut off the threads of the manipulator, a genius? Then who, in this case, is the puppeteer whose doll managed to throw the threads aside?
This is a rhetorical question to which everyone will give their own answer.
For some I was a genius, for others I was a monster. Still others called me God and creator, and the fourth called me a friend or lover.
As many people, so many points of view. I am ready to look at myself from different sides and agree with all the arguments. Only a reasonable person who understands and accepts himself can achieve at least something.
I was riding on the train, looking at the woman who came in from the bus stop. She was old and wrinkled, her breathing was short, her heart was weak... it seemed that just give her a reason and she would die, sending her soul to be reborn in a strange system of this world. I could feel the death hovering around her, the misty pain in my eyes from the aching left leg. Perhaps an old wound or an improperly fused bone.
- Sit down, please. – my lips automatically twisted into a small smile and I, holding the old woman by the hand, helped her to sit down.
She strained her leg again. Just by this action I deprived her of a few minutes of life and brought pain, but as a person, I did the right thing.
Ironic. Is the correctness of human actions in bringing pain to other people?
Kurosaki Ichigo. My creation that I led to the very end, how much pain did it bring to the others? How many plans have you destroyed, for what did you sprinkle your hands with someone else's and your own blood? The fool didn't fully know what he was fighting for. For the sake of yourself, friends, family or the Society of Souls, which will definitely throw it away like an unnecessary rag? He was dangerous, his very existence was dangerous, and the fact that everyone found out who his creator was was trebly dangerous.
Did he realize how futile his existence was? How much pain did he bring to the reasonable ones like him? Was he sorry?
Well, people are more complicated than I initially thought. I can quite admit my mistakes, without this a reasonable person will not gain the much-needed experience of life. A hundred, several centuries or millennia are just numbers. No matter how long you live, you will not become wiser without mistakes.
It is impossible to achieve the ideal without mistakes and, as I have said more than once, experience is what you get without getting what you wanted.
The train began to slow down. The old woman winced slightly from her aching leg. Her heart squeezed for a second, and tears sprang from her eyes, she felt her heart stop. The fear of death came unexpectedly, the realization that here it is. The last moment.
Last look.
He fell on me. Right into my eyes. The woman took her last breath and died quietly, smiling with the corners of her lips.
I watched the weak soul of a dead woman touch my hair for a second. Easily and invisibly, as if saying goodbye.
And then she disappeared, going further along her thorny path of non-life.
The train started moving again, and the corpse slowly collapsed onto the man who screamed in surprise. Her head was thrown back, and her hands involuntarily fell into her lap like whips. The man tried to reason with the dead woman, the realization of her death did not come to him immediately. Horror flew through his eyes, quickly replaced by disgust, and he reluctantly began to call for help.
The world is not perfect. Like humans, like demons with angels and other creatures. It's a different world, and the problems are practically the same.
And at the moment I was a human being. Not perfect, weak, lost immortality, along with Hogyoku and almost all the former forces accumulated over centuries of hard training.
Maybe I wasn't myself. I was not Aizen Souske, and at this moment my true Self is sitting in his prison, thinking about such topics. Perhaps the Hogyoku simply created a copy of my personality, settling it in this world and soul. I couldn't verify it, but did it really matter?
I am me, and the only thing that matters is here and now. I have my mind, my memory and my aspirations with me. Hogyeku understood better what I needed, so it put me in a human body.
I could have changed it a long time ago, removed that natural uniqueness, tried to bring it a little closer to the ephemeral "ideal" by mixing it with local strong souls, but I didn't do it.
As I said, Hogyeku understood better what was needed for me and I know how to accept my mistakes. A man defeated me, destroying my plans. He made my ideals falter, instilling uncertainty in my soul. Just for a moment, even less, but it was enough to defeat me.
So there is something in the human body that I have missed... perhaps everything is correct? Is it perfect for its depravity? A vicious creature, in the image and likeness of an equally vicious God of this world, who managed to die. Was there the same situation with God in the past world? Did the King of Souls appear to them? A creature darker than the local "all-powerful" Biblical God.
Did the Biblical God know that he would perish? Was the local God an all-seeing and all-knowing being, like the other Gods, like Odin from Scandinavian mythology?
I still have to learn this, as well as many other things. Knowledge takes time, because its bearers have not yet come to me, even though my tenacious threads have long been grasped and tied to my fingers.
I walked through the park, breathing in the fresh spring air. The only plus of the human body, as well as its giant minus, is sensations. Pain, emotions, tastes and smells, colors – I felt all this much better than in the form of a soul not tied to a living body. But, at the same time, my feelings have become already, as if in a closed box.
I could not see that far, my strength was quickly leaving, some smells made me want to sneeze or cough, and several tastes made me want to vomit.
It was all part of the man. All the minuses, all the pluses, all the rot and everything beautiful merged into this unthinkable being, which I neglected and continue to neglect.
But I accept it and continue my agony, languishing in anticipation of my hour.
First I need to understand Hogyoku's intent. Why a person? To realize how Kurosaki managed to defeat me. What is his secret that was hidden from my plans until the very end?
And then... then I will achieve the ideal. I will create what I originally aspired to.
My gaze fell on a wooden two–story building with an ornate sign written by a master of his craft - my calligraphy teacher from this world. In the past world, I took calligraphy lessons from Commander-in-Chief Yamamoto, and even at that time I managed to fulfill several of my plans at once.
Genryuusai was a master of his craft, who spent more than one century polishing his skill. He could put any concept, term, word, emotion and even something that does not exist anywhere else in the world into his hieroglyphs, superimposed with a sharp, honed movement of his hand.
In some ways he has achieved his ideal. There's no denying it.
- Neo! – the door opened wide, almost hitting me on the forehead, and a young girl with long wheat-colored hair jumped out. The granddaughter of a master and, concurrently, the head of one of the oldest families – Toro Ando, a master of calligraphy. Kitsune with an age of several millennia.
We met "by chance". He noticed my work at one competition and it so happened that we already knew his granddaughter. Of course, he invited me to his tea party, deciding to find out what kind of person I was.
He liked my image. Correct, his granddaughter likes me, I have a natural talent for calligraphy and perfume loves me. It was the Torah that became one of the first pillars that would protect me in case of anything. He is strong, his hidden aura is quite capable of killing me on the spot if he activates it next to me.
But he will never do that. Was it hard to achieve such a thing from the wise Kitsune, who seemed to dislike people?
No.
It was easy to adapt to the ancient creature, illusions did not affect him for obvious reasons, he was much stronger than me in this art and it was he who revealed to me the "truth" about this world, starting to teach local magic.
I already knew something then, but his help only strengthened me.
"Mizuki, stop it, it's embarrassing. – my face turned red, and the girl laughed merrily, shaking her head negatively and sticking her tongue out at me.
She loved me with all her heart, with all the grains of her soul. Only six months and I'm not the last reasonable person in her life. Is it a lot or a little? I will say that six months is the whole life. Short and long, like an eternity.
Mizuki's golden eyes never left my eyes.
She wanted to confess to me. Right here, right now, but she was afraid of a lot of things. My refusal, grandfather's anger, because we are different types, her feelings, which she feels for the first time, and a lot of stupid, in her opinion, factors. She never confesses to me, and at night she will cry again, hugging her pink pillow and reproaching herself for her weakness.
- Eh, Neo, live! – with a sigh, the girl said, releasing me, and in the way only girls can, coquettishly chewed her lip. – By the way, how do you like my dress?!
Mizuki went back into the house, allowing me to enter the building, and twirled in place under the dim light bulb, in all its glory showing me a light yellow dress with lots of folds on the skirt.
- Do you like it, mmm? – the young Kitsune awkwardly wiggled her hips, unknowingly trying to attract my attention.
A cat with a fancy tail, although she did not go far from this very cat. Or foxes. It does not matter from the soul of which animal these creatures are copied.
- It suits you very well. – I smiled and took off my glasses from my face, starting to wipe the glasses with a snow-white handkerchief. The usual movement when I was "worried". – Very much... beautiful, ahem.
Kitsune shone like the sun. Her heart fluttered, and the happy silly smile of a girl in love got on her face by itself.
You don't have to be someone powerful or a God to see these emotions.
Just a few words and an indicative embarrassment are all that is needed for the happiness of this girl. Neither more nor less, it's not difficult for me. A few words and I'm one step closer to my goals.
When she cries at night, Mizuki will promise herself again, swear that she will confess next time. And again, she will not succeed. It won't last long, just two or three times and then she will give up, saying to herself "enough is enough" and "was not."
And one more step will be passed, bringing me closer to my goal.
- Hee-hee-hee, Neo, the devourer of hearts! – Kitsune stretched out, jumping up to me, grabbing my elbow, and stopping hiding animal ears with two tails, hidden until this moment under the illusion. She liked the "delight" with which I constantly look at her animal parts of the body. Without disgust and without fear. – Come on, come on, the old man has been waiting for you!
"Don't pull, Mizuki, I'm going to fall." – I sluggishly resisted while the girl led me to the main hall of the estate.
I stubbornly didn't see her hints or ambiguous words with actions and flirting. It was even funny at times.
So it seemed to me-to a man. I wonder how much it will hurt her to find out the truth about me? To see my corpse? Whisper in her ear "dying words about endless love"?
It would be no less funny, but the time has not come yet.
I nodded at Mizuki's words, then gently grabbed her by the waist, pressing her to me and making her cry out:
"Mizuki, be careful. – I point with my hand at an inconspicuous nail sticking out of the floor. – I almost stepped on him.
- Neo... – her gaze ran between my eyes and the nail, Kitsune's heart was pounding like an alarm bell, and her right hand with two tails was trembling with excitement. – S-thank you... – The girl squeezed out of herself, lowering her head down, smiling at her stupid thoughts and pressing light animal ears with white tufts of wool to her head.
- As long as you're okay, everything will be fine. – I gently release her, counting down three seconds.
Three.
She stops my hand and raises her big yellow eyes at me, in which love splashes.
Two.
Mizuki took a step towards me, as if stumbling, but I hold her back.
One.
Our faces are close and, exactly as I expected, a tall old man appears, expressively coughing twice:
- Khm-khm, young people, of course, I understand everything, but not before the wedding!
Mizuki immediately jumped away from me, and I began to look around in confusion, forcing the man to laugh merrily in a powerful bass.
Needless to say, I noticed that nail sticking out of the floor a long time ago?
- Eh, Neo, hello! Come with me, I'll show you something interesting, ha-ha-ha!
"All right, ahem, Master. – I tousled my hair and quickly followed, smiling apologetically at Mizuki, who is hovering in her thoughts right now.
Kitsune, dragon, angels, fallen, holy church and one of the representatives of Greek mythology. There are demons, reapers, vampires and the rest of the pantheons with a few unaccounted-for factors that are difficult to get to.
That's enough for now... for now.
I looked coldly at the Master's broad back, hidden by a scarlet T-shirt.
Soon the pre-prepared gears will begin their turn. And before that, you can wait. Waiting is an equally important part of the plan. The main thing is not to let the expectation alarm the soul, because otherwise everything can go awry.
But it's not so easy.