Give all of himself in battle and fall drowned in his blood, mercilessly pierced by the coup de grace, among the endless twisted fantasies he had about his own death was undoubtedly his favorite, and he was feeling it raw. It was finally real, the boiling red liquid taking over his chest denying space to that damned air, this was his only reason for being in that world. So many years covered in other people's blood and now was his turn to be covered by his own.
He tastes the iron on his tongue letting himself be carried away, he will agonize just like the countless imbeciles for whom he played the executioner role, you live to be killed one day, could only be described as delightful, utterly delightful if it weren't... the darkness devours everything, suffocates him, his consciousness disappears before he hits the ground, a materialized dream but...
Back to nothing, you don't know if eternities or seconds pass and you couldn't care less, if you don't exist time is not your problem, but there was still an obstacle that prevented him from completely sinking into the abyss, a very slight, almost imaginary level of consciousness, similar to a dream but much deeper. The fragile rope that kept him tied to reality was a light touch in what he sensed was his hand, damn he just arrived and there was already something to despise, he would never allow such bullshit just as no one would try unless they want to become ground meat, but now he had no choice but to be with that irritating presence with no power over what would happen next, at the mercy of someone else for a change.
He always knew that absolute non-existence was too good to be true, peace was a fool's dream. If that was the welcoming torture from hell those demon sons of bitches could rot, no one will be able to break or bend him, if they're going to really do something they better start at once. The emptiness surrounding him was the literal definition of being trapped, unable to complain, attack or even get away, in life he always had the last word, he did what he wanted as he wanted and when he wanted, the lack of control was something he could not stand, or more precisely in his case the excess of stillness, now he was a full-fledged rabid animal chained and sedated to silence growls and avoid seeing him squirm.
Frustrated and with nothing else to do he decided to give in a little and focus his attention on that touch, anything was better than thinking, nothing good ever came of it. The thing just stayed motionless in the same place, boring, not even worth his time, but the immobility made him notice some details, it was warm and from what he could feel small, didn't have the vibe of a powerful being, rather of something that he could crush even without trying.
That pulse on his skin reflected fear, obviously wasn't scared of him who was no longer more than an empty shell but he could never confuse it. Fear was something he knew as well as his own weapon, many times he could smell it in the cornered victims who broke down knowing their destiny was to have an agonizing death under his blade, or under his own hands if he was especially excited. The strangled breath, the gasping screams, the impregnating reek of the viscera, the pounding heart fighting in vain before he stopped that motion forever, those moments were true ecstasy, a stronger high than any drug could offer, he only had control over the death of others even more miserable than him.
Despite knowing that he wasn't the cause of that fear he couldn't help but feel a twisted comfort, it was something familiar because he'd experienced fear himself, there was no other fear that he knew better than his own, disgusting. He started to think too much before he knew it, very bad, beasts don't think.
He didn't need anyone or anything but he had to admit that just feeling the entity be calm wasn't so annoying after getting used to it, could be the dementia talking but it was even a bit comforting. Waiting for that stranger's next move was his only entertainment and he had no doubt that sooner or later something would happen, no matter how much it wanted to play innocent they won't fool him, he'd lived too long not to recognize the calm before a storm.
That something appeared without warning, he sensed its arrival and even so it gave him goosebumps, the touch had spread just a little without changing place but damn he noticed, if he had a body his only eye would've been snapped open. His reaction to something so minuscule was unreal, he could blame the annulment of his other senses but he would be fooling himself, he felt like a defenseless prey that was being bitten in the throat and the only reason was between his fingers.
Whoever was with him a few seconds ago vanished into thin air, what was next to him now was totally different, it was impossible to ignore her, she kept stalking despite already having him captive under her control, she made him feel like he had the tip of a sword to his jugular, and he loved it. That entity wanted to challenge him, to dominate him, and he would gladly throw himself into that game.
The stillness was just another part of the trap and as he sensed pain appeared, it was a pain that wouldn't make him blink when he was in his five senses but that was left behind, right now he was beside himself. Her touch was electrifying, the softness combined with that slight burning made him desperate, the tremor it caused became its center, he wanted more and at the same time feared it, when you have nothing something small becomes everything.
The wait to discover what else this insatiable demon had for him was close to an euphoria that was soon torn from him, the only thing he felt was how she was moving away. He won't allow it, she wasn't going to get away from this, they couldn't dare to leave him empty again, he succeeded, was able to move his hand to hold her and she stopped. It didn't matter if clinging was the same as begging, something told him that if he let her go she wouldn't return, what does pride matter in oblivion, what the fuck did pride give him in life.
But she only slip over his skin taking her spell with her, a silent mockery to his insignificant attempts, she wanted nothing more from him and by taking her hand he admitted dependence, whatever the challenge was he'd just lost, loneliness now wasn't a preamble, it was an abrupt ending. They could have simply subjected him to an eternity of pain but that dratted darkness saw his true weaknesses with crystal clarity, they knew very well that any physical pain would be a joke.
They faced him with his worst humiliation, begging, screwing with his already spoiled mind, feeling defenseless was repulsing, the mere idea made him want to vomit. How could he be so stupid it didn't matter a damn if he is alive or dead, everything would always be exactly the same, him being pathetic, and to make everything worse his thoughts began to wander precisely towards what he most wanted to forget.
He was already fed up, fear and disappointment turned into a jumble of rage, everything he wanted to leave behind was still there and coming back stronger than ever. There was no hell more perfect for him than an eternity repeating those memories, the method they used was stealthy but in part he'd fallen of his own free will, he was in denial, he even wanted to attribute it to dementia, but why resist, all roads ended in the same place.
The touch left but he was no longer capable of fading away, he didn't want to, he had to reach it again, he never needed to see or hear her to know it, she gave him a lot, she gave him very little, she was the spitting image of...
"Nelliel..."
He could feel the air enter his lungs again, he never really stopped breathing but everything in his chest seemed withered. The first conscious inhalations were more by reflex than will, seeming erratic for seconds until they finally took on a weak but steady rhythm.
The man was just beginning to notice his surroundings, the sand under his skin, the pain of the wounds reappearing, the smell of his blood, the sun peeking through his eyelid, he was sure he was dead but none of that matched his assumption. Instinctively his fingers on the ground detected the spiritual pressure, at first they all seemed unknown until some took shape, he opened his eye to find Nelliel standing next to him.
Nnoitra saying her name when reacting genuinely had taken her by surprise, she felt the need to move closer as soon as she heard him but the neutral look on her face didn't give her away, the impassive image she'd honed over the years was unaffected by the passage of time.
"What did you do?" The difficulty with which he spoke drowned out any emotion in his voice.
"Don't push yourself, you're still..."
"I asked what the fuck did you do!" with that the mystery was gone "Why did you do it? Who do you think you are to butt in!"
That was so familiar, this was the Nnoitra she knew, he lost control with any spark, only he could go from barely speaking to screaming to the point of ripping his throat out. Almost everything he said went unnoticed, the only important thing was that he was hurting himself without any need, his pain was evident but he still preferred to make a scandal just on a whim.
"Don't yell, I heard you perfectly," that part was a bit of a lie "you'll only put your life in danger again."
"I talk how I want! It's my life and I do whatever the fuck I want with it!" His attempt to keep raising his voice left him gasping for air, he wanted to vent even more but his body didn't cooperate. Nelliel had to suppress a frustrated sigh, she couldn't believe that such foolishness was real.
"You should be happy, you were lucky, your death was almost inevitable," For Nelliel that was the logical way someone would think but that man next to her would avoid any logic like the plague.
"But we can always trust you to get in the way, right? Do you want me to thank you?" His voice acquired a superficial calmness, accompanied by sarcastic friendliness and that unmistakable smile, the mockery and contempt in every word were like attempts to poke needles into her skin and flesh, to cause at least a grimace on that stone face, but he only got a sharp response.
"I've never wanted anything from you."
He cursed her so badly at that moment, but he didn't say anything, it wasn't necessary. Since he woke up that woman's gaze has not left his, not even for an instant, seeing her on top while he's lying on the ground like a stray dog was a scene he had permanently burned, the same under the light of the static moon or the false sun, like being in the presence of an arrogant Goddess about to judge a mortal fleetingly before disappearing. After witnessing that gaze so many times he might even laugh, a bitter laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.
They both stayed looking at each other without any particular expression or attempt to intimidate, just the look you would give to any wall, to something so familiar it doesn't require a reaction. That was interrupted without knowing how would have ended as Nnoitra suddenly tensed his face with a concern that he didn't bother to hide, his hand made him remember the rest of spiritual pressures he perceived and turn his head in that direction, he couldn't see it but that sudden change left Nelliel with a confused expression.
The four witnesses kept a prudent distance, Pesche and Dondochakka stood still with their masks effectively hiding any thoughts they might have, Isane had her hand on the lower part of her face showing her usual nervousness, and Unohana watched with an enigmatic smile, but imperceptible if you see her from afar. It was as if both of them had been in a world apart, the presence of third parties was forgotten when the Ex Espada heard her name.
Nnoitra just gave them a quick look before turning around again clenching his teeth in rage, he didn't give a shit if they broke inside his mouth. Second-rate Arrancar and even enemies feasted watching him suffocate and convulse like a dying animal, also the breaths of newborn that he gave when like a retard he thought he was dead and alone, and when between efforts to get air he called...
She dared to snatch a perfect death from him when it was already in his hands, the opportunity to be finished by an opponent who shared his same bloodlust was not going to be repeated twice, that could've been the end of everything, but Nelliel wanted to see him as a wretched creature begging for pity. Forcing him to repeat that role for her eyes only wasn't enough for that bitch, she had the nerve to make a mockery out of him when he was at his lowest and unable to do anything. The hatred for her was never so strong and being dead never looked so good, that woman made him want to die.
Nnoitra gripped his weapon and started to stand up using the handle as support, he was not going to give them the pleasure of seeing him fall or stagger, if his damn body dared to betray him he would massacre himself there and then, the cold steel in his hand was already tempting him to just do it, the beautiful edge of Santa Teresa was whispering his name. He would never pass for someone unscathed but to uninformed eyes it would look like he's gotten out of a little scuffle and not from almost being torn in two, his face didn't show a trace of discomfort.
It wasn't the first time that Nelliel had seen Nnoitra do something like that, many memories of fights between the two of them and others she observed from a distance came to her mind, she didn't need to be present to know that each of those times he collapsed upon reaching his part of Las Noches, his stubbornness was always stronger than his pain or common sense, he was extremely foolish, but she couldn't help but be a little surprised each time, even now. Even if it was temporary at those moments his spirit managed to overcome logic.
Another fact she knew very well was that in those moments derived from defeat the Espada wanted to be completely alone, not simply the usual desire for loneliness born of his hatred for the world, something else. Nelliel used to let him go knowing she would see him again, most of the time challenging her without being willing to listen to negatives or her opinion about it, accompanied by a growing hatred that one day finally spilled over, a routine she never planned to form but still existed.
But circumstances in the present were very different, she'd never seen Nnoitra so hurt before and he seemed to have the intention of walking aimlessly with a lost look, a weakened Espada was a coveted prey in that resentful desert, letting him go would be the same as disrespecting the help she received, she was obliged to intervene. The woman mentally braced herself for another unpleasant crash, there was no way to start or end well but she still stepped forward.
Nnoitra had already turned his back on her but that footstep in the sand was like an earthquake, it broke the last threads of his sanity, he was already fed up with her, he stopped short and turned around with an empty mind, he was going to launch himself like a madman without thinking of anything, he just wanted to end it all no matter the cost, and somehow he did get an ending. What he least expected was to meet the face of that toothless kid again, his maniacal expression became frustrated and tired, it really is over.
Seeing his Master return to her defenseless state was enough for Pesche to stop being an observer, at an impressive speed that he voluntarily kept hidden he took the little girl and took her away from the Quinto before any tragedy could happen. The possibility of a confrontation caused him panic, he knew very well that even if that man was in those conditions without the help of his Master their chances were zero, but Nnoitra didn't even seem to notice his presence or what he did, he couldn't care less. Unohana nodded to her Lieutenant as a signal to leave, she and Isane continued on their way without saying a word.
"Master Nnoitra!" The Arrancar who'd been unconscious until that moment called out with effort, the last thing on his mind was the memory of his Master falling into a pool of blood and what seemed to be a tear forming in his eye. He had no idea what had happened, he just prayed that what he saw before him wasn't a hallucination preceding death.
"If you show your mug in front of me I'll kill ya" The only reason he bothered to answer was because he knew that without a direct threat he would have him crawling behind. Tesla had no reason to complain, that confirmed without a doubt his Master had really survived.
Nel watched from her brother's arms as Nnoitra disappeared forcing himself to use a sonido, when she was in front of him they didn't get to properly exchange glances but in those few seconds she didn't see happiness, maybe she did something wrong, thinking about it make her sad, but knowing that he was alive was already a reason to feel a little better. Pesche gave her a protective squeeze but before Nel could notice his concern and ask questions Dondochakka distracted her with funny faces and gestures, he could never know if his partner's well-timed actions were intentional or just coincidence but he was grateful anyway, no matter how hard everything got he would never be alone.
While the girl played carefree with the huge hands of the other Arrancar he said something in a low voice, he didn't want to interrupt and certainly didn't, the little girl didn't hear him, but she didn't need to either.
"You're safe now, Nel."
In a quite remote part of the desert filled with abundant quartz branches a prediction came true, the Quinta Espada collapsed on his back cursing himself under his breath as he felt a sharper pain than he should allow himself. No matter how strong spirit or foolishness were, the body still kept its limits.