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Post by RAIDEN SAITOU on Jun 8, 2017 12:58:05 GMT
Raiden was just staring at the small, barred window in his cell. Breathing softly. His eyes dulled, lifeless. The husk of a man sat there in his cell, with eyes so dead, they could only hint at the troubled mental state he possessed. To no one's surprise, he hadn't spoken much. And refused to properly eat. Only eating and drinking the bare minimum to survive and atone. It caused an otherwise extremely trained and chiseled body to go to waste. Muscles lessened in volume each and every day. Ribs became visible at the sides of one's chest. And his cheeks had collapsed. It seemed like he was dying on the outside. As much as he was dying on the inside.
He looked down to his hands again. And all he could see was her blood on them. He promised to take her sorrows. And carry them into battle. A bitter promise made to someone that wanted to kill him for no reason. And someone he killed instead. Yet it was wrong. It wasn't a hollow or a quincy. It was a colleague. Someone he would've allied with. Someone he could've shared stories with. Exchanged drinks. Someone who decided to, in a regular sparring match, try and break his bankai. What only could follow after such a debilitating attack but death?
A bitter grin crossed his face as he looked back up to the window. If the roles were reversed. Would she be here? Would she be suffering the same amount he did? Not suffering from being in jail. Or from being desolate, or having a body waste away.
Would she have suffered the same sorrow of killing him? A question he had pondered days on end now.
RAIDEN SAITOU © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
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Post by Amaori Ichika on Nov 13, 2017 21:36:05 GMT
It was really odd for the 20th seat to be visiting the prison. Normally, the average person in any society would not have reason to go to a prison. This time, however, someone Ichika could say she personally knew was in there, so she made an application.
For one reason or another, she was granted permission, but the prisoner and visitor must be separated by the bars. Fair enough. She did not bother to inquire why she was allowed to go in so easily and turned her attention to a bamboo basket.
Approximately one hour later, a teenage girl with auburn hair carried a bamboo basket (with the lid on) into the prison, stopping at the cell she was looking for. This girl definitely knew the person behind the bars, but didn't know very much about why this person was in there to begin with. The leaking steam from the basket obscured some of her vision, but even through the cloud she could tell the man on the other side is in need of feeding.
Which was strange, because one didn't require sustenance as a spiritual being unless they used spiritual power, which made no sense as the person was imprisoned with no real chance to use it without facing punishment or death.
"Raiden-san" she called out.
"Remember me?" It was a while since they last met, but Raiden was a substitute shinigami and didn't live at the 7th division barracks, so not meeting was not an impossibility.
Still, she posed the question.
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Post by RAIDEN SAITOU on Nov 14, 2017 19:40:24 GMT
A voice called out. Warm, familiar. And on some kind of first name basis. But he remained still in his chair. Prim and proper, glancing up at the small barred window still. The chains laid around his hands and ankles. The brace around his neck explained why his spiritual powers were being drained. It was sealing his, siphoning it to an extent he couldn't use any to escape. At the same time, he did require nutrition. But refused to.
"Ichika-san, no?" He guessed, before turning slightly, glancing at the auburn teen. Before turning away again. Maybe it was the light falling in from the bars, just an optical illusion. But it almost seemed like the man was crying. His voice was hauntingly calm, frightfully distant and filled with regret. A ghost of his former self, wasting away in a gilded cage. Some of his wardens, after his transfer to a private cell, still treated at him with great respect. His cell was comfortable, decorated.
Another brief moment of silence. Before he finally turned around fully, giving Ichika a faint smile. The man smiled a lot. Yet unlike before, it was empty and strained. "You're not supposed to be in a place like this." He was scarred, face filled with them. His left eye permamently shut due to one such scars.
RAIDEN SAITOU © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
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Post by Amaori Ichika on Nov 16, 2017 17:48:12 GMT
Good, he remembered her name. Raiden's condition was definitely bad, but being Shinigami, not just Ichika but everyone, even the gatekeeper had seen various means and forms of death. It would take a while for Ichika to figure out the metal around his neck was the cause for his condition, especially since she wasn't focusing on it.
"That's right, I'm not supposed to be in a place like this and as far as I recall, the same goes to you, too."
Raiden had a rough personality, but he had enough respect for the rules to not break them without rational reason. Especially not one heavy enough to land him in a state like this. At least, this was the case as far as Ichika knew. That being said, the thought of breaking him out did not cross her mind at all.
Lifting the lid off the basket, she said:
"I barely ever go to the Human World because I don't like the idea of going, but the one time I do I come back to this. Anyway, I'm here for food delivery, made by yours truly."
The gaps between the bars were wide enough for her to fit a bun through. The question was if Raiden would take it.
"Even if you don't feel like it, at least humor me with a story. I'm still uninformed."
Amaori Ichika © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
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