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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 4, 2023 18:38:14 GMT -5
Out amidst the hustle and bustle of the largest metropolis to mark the face of the living realm, spirits roar and strangers from otherworldly planes roam. Secreted away in the shadows dwell the creeping and crawling manifestations of humanity's own tainted desires and conscious minds, littering the schedules of secret societies and inter-dimensional spirit police with policies of punishment and pulverisation.
Alas, the eternal shadow-war marches on without some of its soldiers. Today, whimsy ruled the minds of the dedicated and fated.
A monk harrowed by disease, plastered with bandage after adhesive bandage strode down amongst the streets. An open door of invitation lead to seasonal advertisement covered steps leading up to the peaceful recluse of a warehouse sized shop filled with all manner of manga and comic, expensive blu-rays and model kits. Amidst the merchandising galore and shelves stacked high with the latest sensations and old classics was affixed a door to the sibling cafe where readers could take their purchases or peruse thinner volumes of weekly and monthly publications at their leisure with some tasteful morsel.
Faint memories of a time before his degree, a half-decade prior had urged the bearer of dark circled amber eyes to chance upon this avenue of entertainment. A simple, subdued sigh fled the tension from his shoulders, the smartly clad man finding a faint smile as he set to browsing the shelves of latest and greatest.
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Post by Hageshi Rekka on Apr 5, 2023 6:23:50 GMT -5
"What the heck."
Hageshi Rekka stared up at the bookstore-slash-cafe's backlit signpost, nursing a slight ache in his left forearm from the time the emissary of hell spider-mom (long story) sank its venomous fangs into his manifested Bankai. While fortunately for him Sanzen Daisen Enmado was the type of Bankai that could be repaired over time through its bond with its wielder, it also meant that Rekka took any damage it sustained as well. Accompanying that was a slight leak of Rekka's sealed Diviner powers, and a completely unrelated paid semi-leave that restricted his use of Bankai until he recovered completely. And so, here he was, shopping for mortal media to add to his vast collection. That was, until his Diviner powers triggered and he saw the words written on the sign instead of the actual establishment name.
"Central 46 enforced a foot fetish manga ban"
The scarlet-eyed Shinigami quickly walked inside the shop to avoid seeing the sign anymore and rubbed his eyes. Still not back to normal. He blinked, and instead of the latest volumes of a popular light novel, the titles Past Demons, Current Monsters, Future Horrors, Terrors of Fluid Time, Rewind, and Pause could be seen along with the images of several familiar figures.
"What a terrible day to have eyes," Rekka muttered. "Look, that half-dead looking guy even has a quest arrow over his head."
Walking over to said man, the young Reaper gave a friendly wave.
"Yo, you can see me, right? I mean you definitely can. Mind helping me find a few books? At least until my eyes go back to normal and I stop seeing through the fourth wall instead of the actual titles."
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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 5, 2023 14:41:01 GMT -5
Devoid for the most part of fourth wall breaking powers, Itsuki remained blissfully ignorant of the suggestions of the wider world about the politically driven polciies of the Central 46 that may or may not have been employed to choke and strangle idecency or otherwise attempt to preserve the outward appearance of a culture of moral decency.
Even if it was thinly-veiled conservatism, judgement of it was out of his reach.
Quietly leafing through an issue of some juvenile monthly edition, editorials and ratings were quick to catch him up on the new, 'big three'. The latest debut of a time-trusted if sparse author in some sort of cross-media campaign seemed to be gripping the centre pages of the volume.
This self-amusing reverie may indeed have explained why when someone spoke to him, the monk at first didn't think much of it.
"Mmm?" was the most managed. Follow-up query reaching his ears, the bandage fastened monk at last blinked away from the page and raised amber eyes to meetthe distinct outline of yet another black robed spirit plod.
"Oh." He declared, quite simply. A polite bow escaped in greeting of the honourable dead.
Well, it wasn't that weird that spirit busies were drawn towards officients of the kami's will upon the mortal coil. What did strike him was the ease with which this one had deduced things. What was that, a wall or something? Well, whatever.
Head angled down towards his monthly magazine of choice, emblazoned with the image of a blue-hooded young man with grey hair parted three ways across his fringe, accessorised in yellows, pinks and a braided half of his fringe marked with a star. Across the top of it, his gaze lingered unerringly.
"That entirely depends." He spoke, scarcely above a whisper. It was his best attempt to emulate the tone last used to address a soul reaper in ap lace of public reading. "What kind of thing are you into? Right now, a few things are popular. There's a manga by author T.Q which happens to be regarded highly. It's a crime themed series told from multiple perspectives with heavy use of in media res, leaning on strong character-driven elements. Problem is, this series just happens to feature more than one or two full-page spreads that coincidentally feature detailed drawings of character's feet."
Itsuki motioned towards a nearly empty stack of magazines amongst the monthly publication rack he'd taken up residence by labelled, 'UNCHAINED' in bold, stylised letters.
"Myself, I enjoy character driven stories. I like something more strange or fantastical though. You know, something done by a travelling author with a lot of experience who can convey the feeling of another place or time. Good at communicating complex ideas in an easy to understand way, maybe." Was the last he offered as example.
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Post by Hageshi Rekka on Apr 5, 2023 23:53:28 GMT -5
Sure enough, the heavily bandaged man noticed Rekka, bowing politely to acknowledge the spirit's presence. Since this was Japan after all, Rekka returned the bow before replying.
"Hold up, I'll just materialize for convenience-"
And with that, the Shinigami formed a physical body, now clad in his favorite red Buster T-shirt, a sports jacket, and cargo shorts. Only his sandals and signature hat remained unchanged. Even Enmado was now disguised as one of those cosplay umbrellas with a sword hilt for a handle.
Rekka's eyes were drawn towards the magazine held by the spiritually aware human as he began to inquire about the young Reaper's tastes in manga. The character on it, the protagonist of a popular series, was visible for all of five seconds before the image and title began to shift and swirl into the countenance and name of the young man holding the publication.
"Itsuki Hasegawa, Fullbringer Caster," the part time Diviner repeated. "Hageshi Rekka by the way, or Rekka for short. Sorry for reading your character sheet, as I said my powers are acting up at present."
"I haven't really been keeping up with crime genre manga lately, they're a bit of a heavy read and ever since anime was invented watching is so much more convenient. Right now, I'm looking for some fantasy or sci-fi with good applications of abilities and spells, or heck I'd even settle for some comedy slice of life. But most of all, I'm currently checking if there are any new chapters of Clorox by Sora Owari. Clorox has a tendency to be... uncannily true to life."
"Eh? Full-page feet spreads? I know Archives of Apocalypse had lots of anatomy studies, so maybe that's it."
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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 6, 2023 15:47:35 GMT -5
"Wait, I'm not sure that--!" Hastened whispers from the reader. Too late.
Polite enough to bow and reckless enough to haphazardly materialise. Itsuki pondered if they were a friend of Koshou's, their approach had admittedly been somewhat more careful.
A brow arched up, creasing a bandage. "A disguise, very nice." Slipped free the polite compliment. Relaxing, the magazine fell lower with the need for subtlety in obfuscating his mouth dissolved.
Ah, blissful moment of ignorance.
Pierced by intagible powers of perception the mortal's face bloomed into shock. Mouth agape, a clearing of this throat after the brief lull in his capability to think got his brain going again.
"I can't pretend I understand everything you just said but Clorox, yeah, I think I heard of that one. It was around the same time as Chashu, right, that fantasy ninja thing?" With that, Itsuki let the edition hang loose at his side, clutched btwixt thumb and forefinger.
""Archives of Apocalypse, though. That might be about right." Turning to the shelf, Some more well-worn issues of Young Leap from almost a decade ago were pried free. Laminated and labelled with a 30% price increase over retail, in the other hand was a tankobon of the latest stuff with what few free fingers were available, tucked neat against his magazine.
"Cover says they've just reprinted the..." Itsuki took a careful squint at the blurb. "...'Millenium Decisive Battle'. Or someting."
A polite smile sprouted across his face, tipping the pictured texts towards the troublesome type. "If you don't mind me asking, which squad do you belong to?"
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Post by Hageshi Rekka on Apr 6, 2023 23:22:24 GMT -5
Whether or not the Fullbringer was referring to the same ninja manga, it did seem that Itsuki was in fact his name, and that he had vaguely heard of Clorox. What did seem more certain, however, was that Itsuki was no match for the otaku power of a Shinigami who had been around ever since before manga was even invented, and couldn't seem to keep up. Either that, or he was just so physically beat up that his mental capacity was suffering as well.
Nevertheless, Itsuki managed to pry free a couple volumes of the requested Archives of Apocalypse, which Rekka took after confirming their identities.
"Thanks," he said before slapping a healing talisman on the most obviously wounded areas of the monk's body. "Don't push yourself though, if you keep getting injured at this rate I'll end up having to throw ya a welcome party before long. That being said, I'll also be taking volumes 32-34 of Pyro Patrol, so let's try looking for them too."
With that, Rekka began browsing the shelves, eventually finding what he was looking for, though the Clorox remained unusually elusive. Along the way, his powers flared up again, causing the prominently displayed cover of a harem manga to be replaced by the face of the vampiric Arrancar he had fought once, surrounded by the figures of Miss Ishiwara, a voluptuous female Arrancar with purple hair, a lanky redhead Quincy, Hattori Koshou of 11th, and the fox-eared 3rd Seat of 4th he occasionally saw around Seireitei, among others. He briefly wondered if said Arrancar lusted after any sufficiently attractive sentient being.
"Well, I found the Pyro Patrol--" he started.
"If you don't mind me asking, which squad do you belong to?"
"Oh, I'm from 9th, the AMERICA! FUCK YEAH! division," Rekka replied. "Third Seat, actually, though I'd strongly advise ya to uh, delay your application for at least a few decades. Like, try not to die too soon, 'kay?"
He'd slap another healing talisman on Itsuki for good measure.
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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 8, 2023 9:20:13 GMT -5
Itsuki squinted atop his smile against the comments about oncoming death and applications. If they were possessed of all this insight, surely they knew? Before anything more oculd cross his mind or words escape, some old fashioned talisman had been unceremoniously pasted across his cheek with a few more words.
"I..." Began the mortal manga reader, cut off by the sticky splat of another on one of his wrists.
A cooling, soothing sensation washed over him. Staring down at his applicated hand a brief, intense sensation of insatiable itching from under his bandages drew a hissing breath from him. "...Thank you?" Up came his fingers, rubbing along the bandage atop his eye. No hint of heat-laden pain. The movement of the healing magic itself seemed familliar. The tingling and prickling of mending flesh followed by soothing temperature-controlled relief was not unlike the ministrations of his allies during his duel with demons and little different from his own attempts at magical remedy.
Such an exuberant outburst about their department. It drew a smile across the slightly less abused monk's cheeks.
Clearing his throat of the awkward tension pressing the back of his throat at the upcoming statement, Itsuki did his best to straighten himself out. "Actually, about my application. I'm expecting to arrive in roughly five weeks' time." Said the soon-to-be departed of the pair.
After a pregnant pause, he caught his own potential misstep and raised a finger to tap upon his ribs. "Heart disease." He explained, voice all restrained matter-of-fact. Clearly something he was well-practiced in breaking the news of to new acquaintances.
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Post by Hageshi Rekka on Apr 8, 2023 17:15:02 GMT -5
Itsuki smiled back, the healing talismans that Rekka had placed having had significant effect. However, the mood turned somber as, sadly, the first aid prepared by the Third Seat was impotent against a much deeper malady.
"Actually, about my application. I'm expecting to arrive in roughly five weeks' time. Heart disease."
Rekka's eyes widened in surprise, then joined his face in producing a compassionate expression directed at the terminally ill monk. "I see. And in accepting your death, you decided to live your life to the fullest. That's a good mindset to have."
Nearby, the cover of a popular superhero manga, now with the protagonist and main villain locked in a deadly battle, shifted to a scene of Itsuki facing off a Demon before a pyramid of haphazard electronics. And Rekka understood.
"As much as I'd like to recruit you into 9th or send you to 5th, the former Captain of 13th was very much like you. As for the current leaders, they are both kind and just men who deserve their positions."
The Shinigami paused for a moment, considering how best to proceed. Then he spoke.
"I will do two things for you today. The first is to buy you a few volumes you want, and keep them for you until you arrive in Soul Society."
"The second, since I believe you aren't an evil person, is to give you a recommendation to the Academy. If possible, I could even get the Captain and Vice Captain of 13th to sponsor you as well."
"Don't make me regret this."
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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 10, 2023 17:45:54 GMT -5
Itsuki's smile persisted against the sympathies, nodding with a small and soft,
"In a manner of speaking."
Thumb still tucked into his magazine, the warm and polite expression shifted somewhat as the mentions of squads slid free so easily of this one. Shocking, the others were so tight lipped. Then again, I can see how someone able to perceive more than mere reality could see little value in pointless secrets. He mused.
Allowing the moment of silence to sit where it pleased, the successive statements by the very polite spirit police officer served to widen his smile. Deep and respectful came a bow, held beyond the conclusion of the radiantly welcoming statement and offers.
Head still bowed, the monk spoke up. "You are most kind, Rekka. I must admit, I'm a little bit worried about where a monk may fit in to these things. I don't know a lot about the individual squads."
A lead weight about his gratitude and disease swelled heart made itself known from the darkened guilty corners of his awareness.
"And, I must confess some impurity in my intentions." From his position practically approaching prostration, the taller of the pair stood to his full height.
"I seek revenge in what time is left wrapped about the mortal coil, against a hollow clad in the mask of a bear. The woeful beast set upon myself and someone who was more precious to me than anyone else." An amber gaze set in an expression worn and weary, held together with strings of courage and strings of courage lest it quiver itself apart into sobs. A glistening veil of unrelinquished tears at the divulgence shrouded his sight, the repentant damned's head falling low into a bow again before the dam dared break.
"I apologise if this has changed things, I shan't hold it against you. If you wish to take your leave of me, I only ask that you tell me if you have seen the bear-faced hollow." Still his voice flowed, a polite bolt of silk unfurling smoothly with nary a sign of the creases in his feelings.
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Post by Hageshi Rekka on Apr 10, 2023 22:47:46 GMT -5
A monk? But Itsuki was clearly a Caster... No, wait, that was not it. While Rekka was a Monk with regards to the arbitrary classification of his abilities that whatever reality his divining eyes were connected to used, Itsuki was a monk by creed, by profession, a man who had pledged to a religious organization.
"No prob, Itsuki-san," the monk (game class) said to the monk (job) with a thumbs up and smile. "You really should be knowing these things anyway if you're about to uh, transmigrate (he gingerly tried to step around the word 'die'). The 13 Court Guard Squads are here for humanity's benefit, or at least we try to be."
"And, I must confess some impurity in my intentions."
The terminally ill man rose to his full height, making Rekka tense up slightly. He knew this trope, in which a seemingly harmless and often disabled character gains the trust of someone only to slaughter them in cold blood for some disturbed ends. The Third Seat could take him, of course, even without drawing his blade. All it would take was a single fist through his diseased heart, and then what? A rampaging Hollow through this holy land of mortal entertainment?
Then Itsuki's next words came, pained, full of grief.
"I seek revenge in what time is left wrapped about the mortal coil, against a hollow clad in the mask of a bear. The woeful beast set upon myself and someone who was more precious to me than anyone else."
"Ah," Rekka knew that feeling all too well, having lost a friend to an unprovoked Quincy attack. He placed a hand on the mortal's shoulder. "I understand how you feel. That's rough, buddy, and your feelings are completely normal and valid. Wow, Ran's courses on this kinda thing are really handy."
"I apologise if this has changed things, I shan't hold it against you. If you wish to take your leave of me, I only ask that you tell me if you have seen the bear-faced hollow."
"Look, Itsuki-san, there are literally millions of Hollows around. I may have purified a few bear-shaped ones myself, but I can't say for certain, even if I used the powers I'm not supposed to be using, if the Hollow you're looking for is still around, much less where it is. The best you can do is become a Shinigami and protect people from Hollows so they don't suffer like you did."
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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 11, 2023 14:09:44 GMT -5
"Millions? Kami above, this really is a war, then." A dry, muted distance held in the part-time bartender's voice.
Silence clutched at his throat for a moment, lips moving faintly but words failing as his eyes drifted about, seeking answers in the meagre measure of his understanding. "I'm not arrogant enough to believe people will become born-again believers come their time. I did imagine that when confronted with the hope and possibilities of what comes next, people might be a little bit more open to the possibilities of the divine. How deep rooted must this despair be?" Trailed idle lamentations upon musings.
Realisation dawned that somewhere amidst these fleeting minutes he'd crumpled the edition of his magazine in hand. A page part-torn from it's binding displayed a man part-submerged in a swimming pool, lounging so very casually upon the tiled side. Carefully, purposefully, he placed down the item and smoothed it over. Placing a tankobon volume of, 'What Must Be Done', upon it to weigh it down.
There, hands upon the books, adjusting it little by little to align it best he could with the worst creases, Itsuki spoke again.
"But if I don't find the bear-faced hollow and cut it down, her soul can never be free to find peace in the cycle of samara, never be free to maybe join me in Soul Society. Right?"
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Post by Hageshi Rekka on Apr 11, 2023 21:27:38 GMT -5
"Uhhh..." Posed with the archaic ramblings of the monk in front of him, our heroic young Shinigami was posed with a conundrum all too familiar to humanity.
Hageshi Rekka Doesn't Get It!
Immediately, the anomalous power bequeathed to a gag character such as the 9th Division Third Seat caused him to deform into a chibi version of himself. Question marks floated in the air around them unbidden, and even the bookstore speakers started playing comedic music. And as Itsuki continued with his musings, the space directly behind Rekka swirled into a spiral, sucking up the chibified Reaper and causing him to spin into the void like a starfish caught in a whirlpool.
"But if I don't find the bear-faced hollow and cut it down, her soul can never be free to find peace in the cycle of samsara, never be free to maybe join me in Soul Society. Right?"
As quickly as the localized vortex had begun, it abruptly stopped, spitting the miniature caricature of Rekka back out into realspace, where he somehow summoned a large white rectangle that looked like a projector screen but probably wasn't, and pulled out the disguised Enmado and used it as a pointer.
"Oh, I get this one!" Images and diagrams began appearing on the "projector screen".
"I'm afraid cutting the Hollow as you are now won't free her soul, because only Zanpakuto can do that! Meaning you'll first have to become a Shinigami! Also, when souls are liberated from a purified Hollow, unless they were spiritually aware, they won't retain their memories and are reborn as entirely new souls! But, if you really want to know how people can retain their memories throughout the cycle of souls, the Captain of 13th might be able to help you as long as you don't tell anyone what he tells you!"
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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 13, 2023 19:06:02 GMT -5
Oblivious to the cosmic whims of the part-time gag-manga his existence had slipped into, Itsuki's turned back had kept his dramatic ardour focused. It wasn't until Rekka spoke up and the whirs of ye olde projector churning to life broke his dramatic moment.
Turning to face the display with a small dab at the corner of his eyes and a well-placed sniffle, the overwhelming influence of the gag manga seeped into his very soul! Oh, the drama of being rendered thick-outlined and flat coloured, deprived of shading with three-frame animation depicting devoted attentions to the goings ons, pen swaying back and forth with poorly synced pencil scribbling sounds.
Such was the fate of being drawn with all the fancy penmanship of the A-team and blessed with all the budgetary pizzaz of the B-team.
The indulgent silliness of th aberration concluded for the time being, Itsuki's soul freed itself of the influence of meta-enriched comedy by instinct alone.
Notes slipped back into his pocket, a weighty sigh shifted his shoulder, sinking him down to lean over a chest high stack of magazines upon a shelf. Though the furnishing itself offered no groan of complaint, his features had withered under dismay.
"Humanity makes plans and the gods laugh. The divine law is a ruthless one." Up came a hand, nails raking at an itch in agitation as he held back the distraught outburst he longed to indulge.
So petulant. He chastised.
"It could be too long. The more time passes, the stronger that bear can be. Wh-what if I bind it, keep it fettered somewhere until I can bring a Shinigami?" Desperation ran clear through his voice.
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Post by Hageshi Rekka on Apr 22, 2023 7:45:22 GMT -5
"Hey. Go easy on the poor guy now would you, Hageshi-san?" A girl's voice came from somewhere in the direction of the counter, causing the reality distortion, chibification included, to immediately snap back to normal. After listening to another of the monk's flowery turns of phrase, Rekka, now back to regular proportions, sighed and shook his head, leaning on one of the shelves as he tried to put his head around the other man's ramblings.
"I swear, even if Senpai and Yoshi-san won't sponsor ya, there'll be a bunch of noble clans lined up to poach ya as a courtier for your verbosity alone," he said. "You're even narrated archaically."
However, Itsuki grew ever more desperate, even offering to bind the bear Hollow until he found a Shinigami to purify it. And that was when Rekka had a flash of inspiration. Well, not exactly. It was an easy solution once the insurmountable problem of finding that particular bear Hollow among the legions of its kind was over and done with.
"That won't be necessary."
The fiery Shinigami's voice was swift and certain as his maxed accuracy stat, his expression full of conviction. He pulled out what appeared to be a cellphone from somewhere and fiddled around with it before offering it to Itsuki.
"This phone contains my number. If you somehow manage to find the Hollow within the five weeks you have left, call me at once. I will be able to come to your side almost instantly. I'll be the one to put your loved one's soul to rest, if you're okay with her being reincarnated as a completely new person."
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Post by Itsuki Hasegawa on Apr 22, 2023 19:33:00 GMT -5
Another actor entering the stage served only to sway anxious tensions higher. Fingers twitched, faintest flicker of molten dew glistening about his nails 'fore fading away into nothingness 'gaint the air. Feelings manifested a teeth-gleaming smile, nerves apparent in the taut expression stretching about his face.
Shock and dread had merged to make this temporary monstrosity soon easing as realisation dawned that no threatening presence had lingered. Most marks of rigidity fled, the notion of elasticity refamiliarised itself to his skin as a more natural manner alighted to his face.
"Nobles, me?" He enquired, voice half-hewn with humourous lilt against perceived absurdity. "Erm, narrated?" The monk appended.
The hastened voice struck like a rapier of imparted certainty. It was practically impossible not to take the gift offered.
Clutching papers, his pulse roared in his ears. He was frozen, staring down into the backlight of his new phone like it contained the secrets of stars. The weight of each passing second felt as if it tugged tension into the very sinews of his heart. All the troubled monk would need now would be an exaggerated clock emblazoned on his hand, or some such.
This, at least, was one unexpected element clarified and cauterised before it could cripple his plans. Somewhere withn the reassurance of this step forward down the path soothed him. Oddly, it wasn't the cool waters of relief that washed over his heart, more the clutching cold of a shadow hunched atop his heart. Dismissing the flight of fanciful expression, Itsuki stuffed his notes away with a clearing of his throat and offered a more sincere smile.
"Thank you, a thousand times and ten thousand more. I shan't forget this come the dawn of my new life, I am in your debt." Extolled he of the virtues of they and theirs.
Deep and low came the bow, hot and burning flowed the tears. Impotence against his adversary, deliverance only offered by the invitation of others to invade upon this private deed, his secret shame shared. Fitful flights of fantasy had cast him a solitary hero amidst the darkness and starlight, a vengeful lance righting the wrong of an abdication of preservation so few years ago.
Twisted and diseased, the heart within lurched against its burning purpose for a mere mournful moment. Concession after concession upon the seclusion of his sin had left his pride scattered amongst his soul.
Righting himself with a choked clearing of throat, swift hands finding a handkerchief to dab at his mercurial sorrows, the monk smiled again. "I'm sorry, thank you." He uttered almost reflexively.
Away fled the scrap of white beneath the black of his clothes, deprived of its bandage cousins' company.
"I didn't mean to make things so dramatic. I'm afraid short time means less opportunities for therapy, especially when certain elements can be difficult to grasp." Itsuki explained, edging about the directness of supernatural statements too loudly. "Manga, right?"
Alas, ye woeful heart, neither resilience nor reflexes might spare pained scars that run so deep as the soul.
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