Chapter 5: Wabisuke
The cell was cold and damp. A depressing feeling radiated from it, and anyone who was foolish enough to come up to it would instantly feel the choking pressure of misery. A rat scurried across the stone floor. It paused halfway and lifted its head, gazing up at the figure above it. It squeaked questioningly, and then, obviously not expecting an answer, ran away. Water dropped from the ceiling, bursting upon impact on the man's bowed head. The raindrops streaked down his long, black hair, and in turn landed on the floor. The man didn't seem to mind it, however. He simply sat cross-legged, backed up against the wall although not quite touching it, as he had a stone tablet attached to his back. His hair completely covered his face, which was looking down at his lap in sorrow. A large metal ball rested beside him, along with a strangely shaped sword. He wore no shirt, and one would have thought him to be freezing in such a cold place, but he didn't even shiver. He simply sat there, as if waiting for something.
Miserable was the only word that could be used to describe such a place, and such a man. Depressing could be used, but miserable was more accurate. The cell was miserable; dark, and wet, and cold, and a horribly harsh place for even the worst of criminals. The man was miserable; shirtless, freezing, forced to carry the heavy stone on his back, and the metal ball on his shoulder. And he looked so anorexic. It surely must be torture for him, but he didn't complain. It was only fitting for a miserable man to be placed in a miserable place. One would have thought it horrible for a Shinigami to have something as miserable as this as an inner world. Perhaps that was why Izuru Kira never came around to visit.
Wabisuke stared at the filthy dark pants he could call his own. He had taken them from a Shinigami, after beheading it, and had worn them ever since. But rather than hold them up with an obi, like all the other Shinigami did, he tied chains around his waist. It was only fitting, after all. If he was meant to be a miserable man, he must give the appearance of a miserable man, and he must be a miserable man. The last part was easy enough for him. Wasn't living in this cell bad enough? He still had to carry around the dreadfully heavy accessories. But at least, when he was released, he was allowed to give his opponent a taste of his misery. Whenever he struck the blade of the enemy, that blade doubled in weight. Then, the opposing Shinigami would be able to feel his misery of carrying two ridiculously heavy objects. Whenever he fought, Wabisuke always wanted to strike the blade a million times, and make the blade two million times heavier. But, as Kira ordered, only about five times was enough. So Wabisuke would have to spill out his anger and sorrow in those five strikes.
"It's almost a joke." Wabisuke whispered to himself. He scarcely talked, and when he did, it was only extremely quietly. He wondered if his voice would be hoarse from lack of talk when he spoke again, should he ever speak again. That was most likely; even his voice would be miserable.
He closed his eyes, trying to think of something other than the disgusting place that he was ashamed to call his home. It failed. Always, his mind would wander back to the small cell room. The small, filthy, wet, horrible, miserable cell room.
Wabisuke sighed heavily, and lifted his head, cocking it back until it rested on the stone tablet that was fastened to his back. The back of his neck was sore from staring down for so long, but he didn't care. Pain was misery, and misery was he.
He stared up at the cracked ceiling, barely noticing the water that dropped onto his face. One drop landed in his eye, and he blinked instinctively. The drop of water rolled down his cheek, making it look as though he was crying. Good. If he was to be miserable, let him look miserable. He was a miserable man, after all.
"I could say I don't care, Kira," Wabisuke murmured softly. "I could try to make sure you don't worry about me, and make sure that you lead a safe life. But I won't lie to you. I am sad here. I am lonely here. Kira, I am a miserable man, and you don't even care."
Wabisuke closed his eyes and sighed again, before lowering his head to stare at the bars in front of him. There was no world outside those bars. Only darkness. Spiraling, dizzying darkness. That was why he never tried to escape, for where would he go if he stepped out? Would he fall in the never-ending depths, or was it actually solid, like ground, and he could be free to walk wherever he'd like? Either one sounded miserable. If he fell, where would he land, if he even landed? If he walked, he would still have to drag around his tablet and sphere. His miserable life was going nowhere… nowhere but misery.
He didn't know what to do. Each day here was pure agony. It was almost suicidal. But he couldn't die. How would he kill himself? Drop his own heavy ball on his head? No matter how miserable Kira's world was, or how often he ignored his own zanpakuto, Wabisuke did not want Kira to die. If Wabisuke died, Kira died. It was as simple as that. Kira did not deserve to have the miserable life Wabisuke had. He would not allow such harm to befall his wielder. He didn't want Kira to be hurt, he would never want that. All he wanted was to be free. Free from the chains that bounded him to misery. But he was born a miserable man, and he would die a miserable man.
I wonder… what is freedom like?
Shinigami always took freedom for granted. They didn't know what it was like to be chained up, forced to live a hellish life, wanting death but at the same time not wanting it. They joked around and laughed with each other, oftentimes even complaining about their lives. To some other people, such as the souls of Rukongai, their lives would be worth a million dollars. It was disgusting. Shinigami were disgusting.
What is the true meaning of misery?
That was simple enough to answer. Wabisuke was misery. Misery was Wabisuke. They were one and the same, and always would be. Misery was living in a pathetically small and dirty cell, chained to a heavy stone tablet and forced to carry a metal ball on his shoulder. And still not allowing yourself to die, for the sake of the one person who brought this upon you.
I am misery.
"And if I offered you happiness? What would you say to that?"
Wabisuke blinked as he heard the smooth, calm voice. He hadn't noticed when he had arrived, but a man was standing right outside of his cell, right on the empty darkness.
I suppose it is solid.
The man had pale skin, just like Wabisuke, but also wore an expensive-looking coat. At least, expensive-looking because of the fur collar it bore. The man's hair was short and spiky, as opposed to Wabisuke's long, straight hair. There were dark circles around the man's eyes, as though he had not slept for a while, and his fingernails were extraordinarily long.
His hands must be miserable. And it looks like his face, as well.
The man stared at him with shadowed eyes, and Wabisuke stared back, not knowing what he wanted. Finally, the man said, "I can give you freedom. I can give you happiness. All you must do for me is one little thing."
Wabisuke replied, "Freedom is useless to me, and happiness does not exist in my world. I'm sorry, stranger, but your offer is best given to another zanpakuto."
A frown appeared on the man's face. "I'm sorry, but could you please speak up? I'm afraid I cannot hear you."
The zanpakuto allowed him to feel both the embarrassment and the insult. Both caused misery, and both helped him. He cleared his throat, and repeated what he had said before, although he realized his voice rasped in his throat from clear underuse.
Once the man had heard him, he looked slightly surprised. "You say you have no use for freedom? That cannot be; every zanpakuto longs for freedom. I heard you just now- I mean I saw the longing in your face. You want to be free."
Wabisuke nodded slowly. "I want to be free, that is correct, and sometimes I do wish for it. But then I ask myself, what would I do once I am free? I would still be burdened with the heavy weights chained on to my body, and they would serve as a painful reminder of the miserable place in which I lived. I will repeat myself: Freedom is useless to me, and happiness does not exist in my world."
"You have a sword right next to you, I can see it. Why do you not use it to cut the chains that attach you to such terrible things?" The man asked.
"My sword does not cut. It only doubles the weight of any metal it strikes. It would be of no use to me if I attempted to slice through my bounds."
The man opened his mouth to speak again, but Wabisuke quickly cut him off. "Stranger, you have come into my world without warning and began asking me strange things. Now, if it would not be too much trouble, I would like to ask you a few questions."
A look of hesitation appeared on the man's face, and then he nodded. "Very well. Ask me your questions."
"Who are you?"
"I am Muramasa."
"Why have you come?"
"To give you an offer."
"Well, you have offered, and I have answered. You may leave now, Muramasa."
Rather then turn away, however, Muramasa shook his head. "No, my real offer is something much larger than that. You see, Wabisuke, I am building an army. An army of zanpakuto. I have realized how badly Shinigami have treated their partners, and am now offering the zanpakuto a way out for revenge. I can transport in and out of the Shinigamis' inner worlds, and speak to their zanpakuto, and then transport them out without their foolish wielders even knowing. And once I have completed my army, we will all launch an attack on their so-called 'masters'. The Shinigami's time will be over, and the zanpakuto will take their place." He paused, and then said, "What do you think, Wabisuke?"
Wabisuke didn't lie. He said truthfully, "I think that sounds miserable for both sides."
Muramasa arched a brow questioningly, and Wabisuke continued, "You are asking the zanpakuto to turn against their lifelong partners. And the Shinigami will feel hurt when they realized their friends have turned against them. It will be a miserable war, and I am already sorrowful enough in here. I do not need to see more sadness."
"You are no doubt wise, Wabisuke, and I respect you very much for that. But surely your own Shinigami must mistreat you, seeing as he has condemned you to this hellhole. Do you not long for revenge on him?" Muramasa said.
Wabisuke fixed the man in a long stare, and said in all honesty, "I could never hurt Kira. That alone would be ten times worse then one million years here."
The man nodded slowly, although it was quite obvious that he did not understand. "Wabisuke, I can sense your loneliness here. While I cannot guarantee you happiness, I can promise you friends. There are already four other zanpakuto resting in my special room I created for all of you. Come with me, and while sadness and misery can be yours, at the least you will not be lonely. Please, Wabisuke. We need you."
Friends. How long have I wished for friends? Surely a few decades at least.
Muramasa's tone sounded truly desperate and pleading. Wabisuke considered the idea. He had been dealing with misery for as long as he could remember. He had wanted friends for as long as he could remember. But what if the other zanpakuto disliked him for his miserable atmosphere? And he still didn't want to hurt Kira.
"There is no need to worry about making friends," Muramasa said, as though he had read his thoughts. "I can already think of one certain zanpakuto with whom you could make an excellent friendship with. Please, will you come?"
"Yes." The word was out of his mouth before he could even think about it. He almost gaped when he heard himself say it, but he clenched his mouth shut tight. He had agreed, and there was no backing out now.
I apologize for whatever future actions I will take, Kira.
Muramasa looked satisfied. "Thank you, Wabisuke. I promise that you will not regret this decision."
Wabisuke only nodded as he stood up. He first picked up his sword, and then, with a soft grunt, hoisted up his metal ball and placed it on his left shoulder, and approached the bars of his cell. "So, Muramasa. What must I do?"
"Brace yourself." He replied simply as he reached in a hand between the bars, and gently stroked Wabisuke's face with his fingernails.
The thinner man stiffened; he was not enjoying the feeling of being touched with long fingernails. But suddenly, it seemed as though he went right through the bars, and through the darkness. He found himself in blinding light, and had to close his eyes because he was so used to the dark his shadowy cell provided. When the light finally faded, which seemed like forever, he opened his eyes, and was pleased to find the familiar darkness. He felt firm, dry dirt beneath his feet, and when he glanced around he realized he was in a cave.
"Come over here." Muramasa said. He was standing right next to a staircase.
Wabisuke walked over to him, quicker than you would expect a man with two extremely heavy objects on his back and shoulder to. He cautiously followed Muramasa down the stairs, and waited patiently as the man called out to the other zanpakuto.
"That was quicker than before." A screechy voice sounded from above. As if he'd dropped from the sky, a black demon landed in front of the two. He peered closely at Wabisuke. "Doesn't look like your wielder fed you much. Starving, are you?"
"Not quite. I'm used to it." Wabisuke replied. Who was this demon? To which Shinigami had he once served under.
The dark devil, as if guessing his thoughts, gave a cocky grin and said, "I'm Kazeshini. And you are?"
"My name is Wabisuke."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Wabisuke." A beautiful snow-white lady walked up beside Kazeshini, smiling kindly. "My name is Sode no Shirayuki."
Wabisuke gave her a lopsided bow, careful not to drop his metal ball. "It's an honor, Lady Shirayuki."
"Why are you carrying those heavy things?" A strange-looking woman meowed as she joined her two friends. She looked to be a cross between a lady and a cat, with a human body but with cat ears, a tail, and large hips.
"I am forced to. They are chained to be." Wabisuke explained.
"Oh, well that kinda sucks." The woman said. "Want me to cut them off for you? It won't be a problem."
"Thank you, but I really don't need you to, Lady…?"
"Haineko. My name's Haineko."
"Lady Haineko." Wabisuke said.
Muramasa glanced around questioningly. "Where is Suzumebachi? You didn't eat her, did you, Kazeshini?"
Kazeshini let out a horrible cackling noise. "No. But Haineko scared the crap outta her! Man, you shoulda seen that fairy's face! So terrified! And she just kept on saying 'I hate Soifon, and I want to kill her. I hate Soifon, and I want to kill her.', just 'cause Haineko told her to. Man, it was hilarious!"
Wabisuke frowned. That was a horrible thing for Kazeshini to do. To laugh at someone else's misery was just… horrible. "I would like to meet Suzumebachi. Where is she?"
Kazeshini shrugged, oblivious to Wabisuke's discomfort around him. "Hell if I know."
Muramasa sighed, and then turned around. "Well, I hope that when I get back she is around. I am on a tight schedule, and now I must meet up with Tobiume. I will see you when I get back." He began to climb the stairs, when he paused and said, "Oh, and do take care of Wabisuke." And then he disappeared from view, and a loud crack showed he was gone.
Wabisuke looked at his new roommates warily, nodded once, and then walked away in search of the poor fairy. He glanced around, suspecting that Suzumebachi would be very small. He finally saw a dim glow coming from behind a small rock, and approached it. Sure enough, a small armored fairy was slumped against it, quivering uncontrollably. When she looked up at him, Wabisuke could never forget the fear that had flashed in her eyes. So he had sat down.
He had sat down beside her, and murmured softly, "Misery is meant for me only. Do not torture yourself so; be happy, and be strong. Let any sadness you feel go to me, and never back down."