MENDED SOULS

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It wasn’t long before someone came, though the Visored was a little surprised to find that it was someone he was certain he’d never met before. The girl entered through a hole in the wall that disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared to allow her entrance, white hair flowing over her should in an inarguably human black sweater and red sweatpants. Her eyes started at him, crimson orbs accentuating an equally annoyed and curious expression. His red-and-white mismatched eyes offered no such emotion, though he was relieved to have company. She seemed pleasant enough as well, not seeming to be a particularly malicious or violent captor. Not yet, anyway. When she introduced herself, he had no issues with responding in kind.

“If only it were so,” he said, noting that however long he’d been out, it had brought him nothing but nightmares, “and I’m Hidane. Nice to meet you as well, Hikari-san.” A shame there was nothing she could do about the shackles; given her pleasant disposition, he wasn’t entirely sure why the shackles were there in the first place, but he could only assume there was some purpose in keeping him locked up. Given that he couldn’t remember anything between the large Hollow and being here but for nightmares, he supposed he may have given someone a good reason for it. Drunkenness and high destructive power probably didn’t go very well together, after all; he was just glad he wasn’t captured by the agent of Soul Society, and instead was with someone who would hopefully be a bit more… reasonable.

“As far as how I came to be here or why it is that I’m here… that I was actually hoping you might have some answers for.” He offered a friendly smile in return, relaxing as much as he could while bound to a metal slab. “I have no idea myself; the last thing I remember is taking down a rather aggressive Hollow outside somewhere, and then… nothing, until I woke up here.” Other than feeling like he was transforming into a monster over and over again, that is. And the scene with Kurosenkou. But those were things he wouldn’t trouble Hikari with, nor was he sure she would understand even if he tried to explain it. “Where is ‘here’, anyway? Can’t say I’ve ever been held prisoner in a place quite like this before. It’s… a bit different from what I’m used to. Not that I get captured often, just… I know some things.”

The idea was almost laughable. A pawn shop? He was bound to a huge metal slab in the basement of a pawn shop? He could already hear the stories that would be told about this one, should anyone ever hear about this experience of his… or rather, should he ever find someone to even bother to tell of his adventures. Could this even be called an adventure? He didn’t even remember how he got here, let alone the reason why, so it wouldn’t be much of a story to tell anyway. Regardless, it was a relief that he was not imprisoned by Soul Society at least. He pulled back his Reiatsu as he realized there was nothing else of interesting that he could find there, though he noted that there had been traces of some familiar Reiatsu strewn about the place. He couldn’t quite place where he’d felt it before, however.

“A pawn shop, huh? Well, that’s a new one.” He grinned, closing his eyes and settling back onto the slab of metal, getting as comfortable as he possibly could… which was not very comfortable at all. He stared up at the white ceiling as the girl commented on his blackout. “Seems possible,” he responded to the suggestion that he’d been out of control, and dangerous. Very dangerous. Things had been different for him since the incident twenty years ago. ‘Dangerous’ wasn’t a term he was unfamiliar with anymore, though thinking about it usually only ended up in him drinking more to forget about it. A self-destructive cycle at its best; maybe this time it had finally gotten out of hand. He had been wondering how long it would take.

He looked around, suddenly realizing that Kurosenkou was not with him. A frantic look took over his face for only a moment as he looked about, but then he settled back in and sighed. Surely if he was bound, whoever had done it probably knew that his Zanpakuto was the source of most of his power, and would separate it from him. Hopefully this imprisonment wouldn’t last too long.

“As for what I am,” he said, opening his eyes again and looking at the girl, his Reiatsu slowly creeping out again to get a feel for what she was. But it was strange, an unusual Reiatsu signature, one that he had rarely ever felt before. “I am a Visored. Mostly Shinigami, with a bit of Hollow… or at least, that’s how it used to be.” He sighed, briefly remembering the incident. “Now, I’m not so sure which way the scales lean. I’m still me, but… it’s different, somehow.” The Hollow was gone, now part of Kurosenkou it seemed, but its influence was still there as much as ever, if not stronger. Was it changing who he was? Was he still the Hidane that existed before the spirits fused? His smile faded as he thought about it. He looked back to the girl, taking on a serious expression. “Tell me, does it scare you? What I am?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know what it feels like to be missing half of your soul, would you? The other half to your very self?” His expression as he spoke, looking down at her, was stoic and emotionless, but his eyes glimmered with a hint of anger. She would dare to ask such an obvious question? “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Well, I assure you, it’s quite unpleasant. However, this isn’t the first time we’ve been apart, so I’m sure she’ll be okay.” He paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m certain that others in my situation could react strangely for any number of reasons.” He laid there in silence, not bothering to struggle; he hadn’t tested it yet, but he had a feeling this slab would be no easy thing to break out of. And even if he did, what then? Kill this girl and escape? Was he trying to become the monster that Enadih had wanted him to become?

No, he would do this his own way.

“Well then,” he responded, having calmed himself down, “I hope I don’t come to disappoint, then. I, however, have long since come to terms with it. In fact, I consider it a blessing, though I’m sure there are many who could kill me for being what I am, let alone being proud of it.” He stopped for a moment. How much should he tell this girl? How much should he hide? For all he knew, he could be bound to this metal slab for the rest of eternity. Would it do any good to keep secrets? But he’d been here for only a few minutes since he’d come to know he was here. Perhaps it was too soon to tell everything. “However, lately, it’s been a bit… different. The Hollow part of me’s been a bit more active, and it’s taking a toll.” Not to mention that it got a foothold in by taking advantage of so many other levels of torment that were going on in Hidane’s head.

“I scare myself right now.” Hidane said, and if nothing else, that was the whole truth. His power scared him, now more than ever, and his lack of initiative to try to control or stop it scared him even more. What had he been doing for two decades other than drinking himself numb and letting his powers run wild when it seemed therapeutic? “I don’t regret what I am; rather I regret some of my choices along the way, and how I’ve handled things since then.” He closed his eyes. “Maybe it’s better that I’m here, bound like this.”

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“Oh, trust me, I’m screaming on the inside.”

He joked, but his face remained indifferently stoic. He glanced at the bars over his wrists, keeping his arms bound to the slab. He wondered how strong they were; he wondered if he could break out without Kurosenkou, even if he wanted to. What was this girl after anyway? He was fairly certain she wasn’t the one who had directly captured him, but clearly she was involved in it, or otherwise with the person who did capture him, otherwise she would not be here right now, talking to him, aware of so much in the way of spiritual terms. Who was she? What did she want? When she compared his existence to that of a Mod Soul, things began to become clearer. He closed his eyes and rested his head back again. So that was why the Reiatsu around he seemed only vaguely familiar.

“Ah, so you’re a Modified Soul then?” He looked at her once more with new eyes. His right eye, pale and white with no visible iris or pupil, suddenly glowed, a white cross of Reiryoku appearing in front of it, though the lack of a spike of Reiatsu suggested it was a harmless technique. He examined her closely; yes, definitely a Mod Soul, all the signs were there. “An outcast of the Soul Society? No, I know their type. So you’re… newer, then. But how, I wonder…” He was fairly certain anyone who could make Mod Souls was either dead or no longer in the business of doing so… the project had been abandoned and its products concluded as illegal by Soul Society. Perhaps Urahara? He’d never heard anything of the man actually knowing how to make them, though, only knowing of their existence and passing them along or helping them hide, as he did with many things.

“You think so?” He called sarcastically. Obviously it was feeding off of his negative energy; that was what it did, and surely lately it had had a feast the likes of which it would never have imagined from the ever-positive Hidane before the incidents two decades ago. He wondered if he could overcome the Hollow now even if he tried; back then he’d barely escaped their last encounter with his soul as he knew it intact, and even then the Hollow had only been playing games with him. “Then bring me a bottle so that I can end it quicker.” He stopped for a moment, having listened to himself. Was this what he had been brought down to? Was he so eager to let the Hollow take over and destroy everything he’d worked for? Not that there was much of it left, but it could always be salvaged or started anew. What had he been doing for the past two decades.

“I… I don’t know. The Hollow is dangerous, and I’m not even sure I could even overcome it anymore.” He looked at the plain white ceiling again. “But to do so is the only path I have, I suppose. That confrontation’s been two decades in the making; it’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long. Hopefully I’ll live to see longer.” He glanced at his restraints again. “But I’m not about to be doing anything with these restraints on, eh? You wouldn’t happen to be able to do anything about them, eh, Hikari-chan?” He pulled lightly, but they were solid; go figure, Hidane. Solid metal to bind you to a slab. There was no getting out of this on his own, after all; perhaps he should work on a more versatile skillset. Perhaps if he had sooner this wouldn’t have been a problem.

So that was how it was. The Mod Soul refused to answer his question. Either he didn’t care for Hidane’s peace of mind or knowing what happened, or he had done something so horrible that it was beyond saying. He couldn’t be certain which it was, but the Visored highly doubted it was the latter. His arrogant, mocking demeanor quickly faded, along with his grim smile. Perhaps this situation was worse off than he’d expected. He’d never gotten to know the Mod Soul fully as an ally, until things had crumbled apart and they’d left at odds with each other. He supposed he shouldn’t assume himself to be safe here; and from the sounds of it, Seran seemed eager to have him around, if only to use to his own ends.

“What are you talking abo-“ Hidane began to ask in response to Seran’s words, when he suddenly felt the vibrations in the air, his Reiatsu senses going crazy. The first time is the worst… the hell was he on about. The Mod Soul raised his right hand, eerily approaching the Visored, and he knew he was in for a treat, and not the sweet kind. Seran pressed his hand against Hidane’s chest, and the vibrations suddenly concentrated on him. For a moment, it felt like an incredible pain coursing through his body. “Ack-!” He grunted, but the feeling quickly subsided and was replaced with… nothing. His limbs, chest, muscles, every fiber of his body felt… comfortable, without even the slightest tension or pain. He was quite sure he’d never felt more physically comfortable in his life… and that was all the more unnerving.

“What the hell are you doing to me, Seran?” He glared at the Mod Soul, trying to throw his arms forward, in some futile attempt to break his restraints, but failed. The Mod Soul lifted his left hand, coated in the bastard’s favorite creation, his Black Iron, and it molded into somewhat of a model. It was like two small planets orbiting a star, but it quickly became apparent that it was not even nearly that; it was himself, his soul, and Kurosenkou’s and Enadih’s as well. But why were the latter two separate? Were the two still considerably separate, despite having fused? Or was Seran only manipulating it how he wanted to see it? Why would he do that? His eyes wandered to the younger Mod Soul in the room for a moment, and he wondered if he was going to put on some spectacle for her, to paint him a monster.

It pissed him off even more, and he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, his body suddenly pushing forward.

He didn’t have to see it in the model of the soul, or ask what was happening; he could feel it. Floating about Seran’s left hand, the bulbous objects suddenly shifted; the black outer orb would jut out, almost instantly consuming the smaller white orb, and they would mold into a black substance that floated and constantly shifted, growing thinner and thicker and long and shorter in random directions, constantly, as it revolved around the main soul. The new combined orb only had the slightest hint of white in the center, and it nearly rivaled Hidane’s main soul in size. Even as the Mod Soul would watch, after the sudden shift, thin tendrils of black would grow from the new fused orb and wrap tightly around the main soul; not consuming it, but grasping it tight.

When Hidane opened his eyes, they were black as coals, with glimmering silver irises. He had not donned his mask, but his Hollow Reiatsu poured out into the room, a much darker, more primal feel than his normal Reiatsu. Black lines, like cracks, crept inward from the edges of his face, his skin unusually pale.

“Is this what you wanted to see, Mod Soul? Well, here I am.”

“Surrendering myself to the corruption?” The Hollow laughed, exaggerating it for dramatic effect, as he watched the Mod Soul closely. “What my host has done is more than that, Mod Soul. We’ve made a deal, you see. A day will come when he will need my power… and I made sure to make that clear to him. And thus, we made an arrangement; I would give him all of my power so that he may preserve his own life, and in turn, mine. And should the day ever come that he is unable to do what he needs to in order to do that, he would turn over control to me so that I may accomplish that.” He flexed his arms against the bars the kept him there, but in this form, it seemed he was unable to break free. “It ain’t my fault if he hasn’t figured out how to control it yet.” He grinned, a maniacal chuckle slipping through at the end of his words.

As the display the Mod Soul had made of his host’s soul dissipated, the model of the Hollow’s momentary take-over, his confidence only grew. This wasn’t like the take-overs before Hidane had gained control of his Hollow power, however; this was a new breed of symbiotic bond between the Hollow, Zanpakuto, and Vizard, even if Hidane hadn’t fully realized or achieved this state yet. He watched as the Mod Soul seemed to open some sort of portal, and from it, drew exactly what he’d been waiting for; Kurosenkou, the blade that was the key to all of their power. All he had to do was find some way to break one arm free of this trap and grasp that blade, and he could make minced meat of Seran and his little experiment, and get the hell out of this place. Under normal circumstances he would have released already, but they’d been apart for some time it seemed, and the bond had been weakened so that a remote release wasn’t possible.

But then, it seemed the Mod Soul had other plans.

“What the hell are you doing!?” The black material stretched from the Mod Soul’s hand, creeping over the Zanpakutou much as the black markings did over Hidane’s skin in this form, until there was but a sliver of the blade showing. “If you do that I’ll lose contr-“ Just like that, his words were cut off as white mask-like material burst from his mouth, curled out and began to crawl aggressively across his face. It was like a monstrous, bulbous variation of his usual mask as it slowly throbbed, as if breathing, and began to grow slowly across his skin, leaving his left eye visible as he began to be consumed. What the hell was this Mod Soul thinking? Was he just going to let Hidane’s soul destroy itself? The Hollow glared at him with silver eyes as the world faded to black.

Hidane’s eyes opened to a familiar scene. He stared out at the beach of his inner world, flat and leading out to the endless expanse of water, but the sands were littered with what appeared to be corpses. No doubt, of friends and loved ones lost to death or isolation. He found himself leaning on a large, glowing purple crystal that jutted out from the base of a tree at the edge of his forest. He pushed himself off, stepping forward, and found himself holding Kurosenkou’s sealed blade, dripping with fresh blood. No doubt the Hollow was going to try to play tricks with him, make him believe he’d done this. He couldn’t even recognize the masses on the ground anymore, but there was one other thing different about the scene; there, where two decades ago had stood Enadih, the exact opposite of himself in every way, stood Kurosenkou, in her new Hollowfied form, silver eyes glimmering as she watched him, her slightly more primal figure tight and ready to pounce should he lash out.

However, he wasn’t going to.

“Your tricks won’t work on me this time, Hollow,” he said callously, throwing the bloodied blade aside. “I thought we were done with this. You said if I agreed to your deal, that you would grant me your powers.” He stepped forward, finding each step laboring. Was this the Hollow’s work? Did he… she… have more influence over his world than even he did now? How badly was he losing in this balance after all? “Twenty years and you still haven’t held up to your end of the bargain.”

“Not true,” the Hollow responded quickly, a mad grin spread across her face, “I gave you my power, just as I said I would. It’s not my fault if you’ve misused it.”

“What was that he was talking about out there? Out of control? Ready to reduce a city to rubble? Seran is many things, but I don’t believe one of them to be a liar. If that is why I am in this position, this is wrong. That is not me. It never has been.”

“Oh, but it’s not me either. I may have no interest in your world’s cities, but neither is my goal just to cause destruction. That is ‘Thanatos’, a being of your creation, your Hollow power manifested in its most raw form. That is YOU, your Hollow Reiatsu bringing your most basic instincts to the forefront of your mind, letting them control you. It is not my fault that you have such rage buried deep within you.” She grinned, sticking her own copy of Kurosenkou’s blade into the sands and leaning forward on it, staring right into Hidane’s eyes. “It amuses me that over these past few years, you’ve resembled a Hollow more than any Hollow I’ve ever seen. The blatant disregard for your own well-being, and your complete and utter failure to handle your own thoughts and emotions. Where do you think that wild, destructive rage came from? That was all you, Hidane.”

Hidane remained silent. He couldn’t deny this, any of it. While early on in his time as a Vizard his Hollow had been a savage beast, it had quickly adapted to him; perhaps it was not kind like him, but it was certainly not wild and ruthless. He thought back to the last memories he had before finding himself in this basement; he’d met a Shinigami from the Kidoshu, and had been… fighting against them with his Mask… he’d been drunk, but the mask was starting to fix that. And then Seran had appeared, and, and… he’d thought that maybe it would be okay if he destroyed a block or two of the city if Seran was taken out with it, and he’d released his Hollow powers with that in mind. That hatred, towards the Mod Soul that had caused his life to begin to crumble. Theo’s disappearance, the Alliance crumbling, what few friends he had left dying or disappearing or losing all memory… it had all started then.

That was the rage he’d let loose on Karakura Town. That was why Seran had locked him away here, not entirely to antagonize the Vizard, but to keep him from causing more destruction than he’d already done, or at least tried to. Hopefully a Mod Soul of Seran’s strength and a Kidoshu officer could have kept him in check.

“It’s okay, Hidane,” Kurosenkou said, suddenly right in front of him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, staring him right in the eyes with her black-and-silvers, “don’t be afraid of what you’ve become. Embrace it, control it. Running away will solve nothing, but letting things be will be even worse for you. It’s time for you to move forward, and embrace your new identity, your new being. You can do whatever you want with it, as long as you accept it; and only then, will you begin to understand how to control my power in its entirety.” She pushed him away, and he backed up against the crystal again. “Now, I believe our time is up for now. I believe that Mod Soul friend of yours is awaiting some answers from you.” Once his back pressed against the crystal, it was like the air had been knocked from his lungs. Things went black for a moment, and then he was before Seran again, half his face covered by a familiar material.

The malformed mask suddenly stopped growing, cracked, and crumbled away. Hidane hacked and coughed up small bits that had been left in his throat and mouth as they dissipated. He looked up at Seran, a much more serious expression on his face now; his left eye was his normal white with crimson iris, while his right eye remained black with a glimmering silver circle in the middle. With new determination, he held the Hollow back that much at least.

“I… am not… a Hollow,” he let out between labored breaths.

As he slowly faded fully back into consciousness, he’d only heard vague voices speaking indiscernible words when Seran seemed to have been shouting at him… or perhaps his Hollow, since he’d been in his Inner World? As the mask material fell away, however, he could feel the Mod Soul’s hand again, and that something was being released from it now. Traces of the Mod Soul’s Reiryoku leaked out inside of him and seemed to spread through him like threads, and then seemed to fade away entirely. The Mod Soul removed his hand and moved away as Hidane made his statement, only then fully coming to his senses. What had just happened? What was going on here? Why was he here, and what had Seran done to him?

No, that part didn’t matter right now, he supposed. As much as he wanted to hate Seran, right now it seemed the Mod Soul was in the right, even more so than he himself was; a thought in itself he hated to even consider.

You are what you believe yourself to be.

But what did he believe himself to be, really? Once, perhaps, he had known that. Thinking back to his days in Soul Society, he remembered how easily things had come to him. He’d been well-read and training came easy to him, so he found himself doing his work efficiently but also finding time to relax and disappear from the public eye and just enjoy life. He knew what he was then: simple, free. But since leaving, his life had taken turn after turn for the worse; his powers slowly growing in and out of his control, friends coming into his life and then disappearing, dying, or worse. What was he now? A protector? He’d failed to protect those closest to him, and anyone who showed any opposition to his ideals he had mercilessly cut down or attacked, aiming to inflict lessons that were perhaps more harsh than they should have been.

A fighter? He’d lost more fights than he’d won since defecting, when it mattered. And when he could have let himself go and defeated Kensei, a Gotei Captain, quickly and gone to Tiru’s aid… what had he done? He’d gone easy, and tried to appeal to the Captain’s reason, as opposed to doing what should have been done. Perhaps if he hadn’t hesitated, Tiru would still be alive; he would be an enemy of the Gotei, but at least he wouldn’t have lost everything. His values always seemed to cost him these days.

A peacekeeper? The last two decades had seen him wandering around, either too drunk or too depressed to be bothered with the problems in this damned town.

Who was he?

"Seran..."

He lifted his head, which had been hanging low despite waking up. He looked at Seran, his face dead serious, but no longer threatening. For the time being, at least, Seran was not an enemy.

“What happened? I mean… what happened that brought me here?” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “What… did I do?”