Christmas Des(s)ert [Sayuri]

An eternal kiss upon the land and its eerie darkness, the luminous sphere kept itself as a nightlight, as it was nothing more than a moon without motion, a creation without ever being hindered within a void forever endless. Though still, this sphere followed everything, everywhere; whispering over the shoulders of the lonesome and anxious. Hues toned pink with their watchful gaze, where the never fleeing moon sung, the crimson glistened as it spattered upon the blank canvas called sand and joining the bits, the pieces of their allies, another body fell still. The few lingering reiatsu signatures were occupied with tongues in hand, as screams were light on the ears and with their steady mutilation, laced with a deliverance of slower death, among these peeled muscles and shattered bones, features of the faces, heads left preserved without the slightest harm done to them. Much like their plus souls, that had their tongues removed too. Their weak signatures too, tainted the sandy waste like sprinkles, some closer to hollowifying more than others.

The first application of these malicious practices were defense, pure and simple, it was not hatred or animosity at the core, it was wholly defense that transformed into impassivity and that too, transformed into callous survival, lest it was indulgence to cruelty, and this too, transformed into something else. Unlike the grouping of howling canine adjuchas, the crawling within her throat and the tickling in her chest were not glee, it was a mere relief and as her blushing nails dripped, she released from her grasp the fleshy tongue she plucked, with it too, joining the crimson puddle that stained the sands. The act of slaughtering was a reflex, it was without thought and there did not need to be a real justification, especially not here.

Within her distant comfort from her allies, the small fire for their camp was once occupied by constant of issues ranging from Quincy, their Pseudo-Quincy and the hollow turncoats, the scarce amounts of souls to devour and being forced to hunt within the living world, where the shinigami stepped equally harder on their natural survival. And now? These changed times allowed cheerful banter among these adjuchas, and as the conversation carried on with them, and maybe, she lost interest into the conversation with her hues redirecting themselves to an interesting sensation, a unique feeling and with a slight familiarity. So when the moment came for the single question, the most dreaded question always aimed at her with all eyes on her. “Joining our stroll through the living world tonight?” Said the snowy canine with round orange eyes, lit with expectation and hope, that this time, that this one time, Sayuri would agree to finally step out of this desert.

Casting her hand to the deepest depths of her own shadow, she gripped and pulled this black sheet that went to wrap around her chilling frame and in addition, through the whole night, as long as a whole natural day, she spoke, her answer was simple and with one terse word with her emotions misplaced too. “No.” She replied, with her conversion into nothing more than a guise of an ill tempered canine pup, her ill temper had not been due to the question, but the presence of an invited guest and one anything that felt familiar invited trouble to her. It was the uniqueness that caused a deeper seed of worry, as there had only been two or three things worthy of being noted as ‘unique’ to her and one of the three was... Questionable. Especially, if she considered the Wandenreich, the mare and her local fan favorite, her hollow father, so why not assume that more things were added just for her insanity, because it was none of these.

With a thought, a single thought, she reevaluated her shortness and the delivery of her answer, as her allies sat disquiet and for that moment, it spoke volumes on her addressing mannerism to the snowy coat canine. "Sorry.” She managed to say, that single word as an apology did not ease the concern and in attempt to not add more, she walked straight up the mound of sand that formed the bowl around their camp and down the opposing side of it; going out of sight and mind too. It was within those next few seconds that the few reiatsu signatures that were left there, disappeared and without a doubt, relocating into the human world for their casual stroll, maybe exploration for their taste buds too. However, these were not accounting the few bold hollows lurking about, looking for a chance. Though on travel to point A to point B, she kept herself steady and without rush, but one thing did poke, no, stabbed at her mind that caused her to ponder on the sensation and it wasn't her being forgetful, she just did not feel the need to reply any 'warm' feelings towards enemies and in her defense, everyone, she did know, had basically became an enemy in some form or another. Unless, there was one she was scared of thinking about, or better, one she regretted in some way, which summed her life well.

The first thing to spot, if not to feel her existence in this wasteland, was more than likely the wavering flame, the orange luminescence upon her lengthy tail that granted another color to this monochrome cape, peeking over the mountain of sand her paws trailed up and the last, was the form of a cutesy small black pup, sitting and casting its hues to gaze directly forward and directly down towards this feeling, this sense that tugged her and for a moment, she was ready to act in aggression, without any words or conversation. However, just as she, the pup, opened her mouth, she paused with the narrow of her hues and leaning of her body. Hold on, she thought with her hues narrowing to the shade that the sensation came from, the unique and delicious reiatsu came from... delicious... Oh. Now. Through Sayuri's lovely stay within Hueco Mundo, she has rarely found a situation to ever run from and she was much too egoistical to ever truly step down. However. She instantly decided upon a single course of action. FLEE.

However, there was a second, it almost looked like she wanted to speak, where she could've said something, and she did not want to attack, as per normal, because she thought on something, but what? However, just as the mouth of the pup started to opened, it closed, sucking in oxygen dramatically with the canine standing, promptly turning, to leave, with the lowering of her tail and ears, dipping back out of sight, fleeing in a brisk pace the hell away from here. I won't. She thought. No. Nein. Non. Net. Quincy? No. An Arrancar? Nein. A Mare? Non. Her father? Net. Opposing all her normal and natural reactions, she did not want to question or attack, because she personally did not want to know if they were apart of the Wandenreich, working with the Mare or worse, a part of Lissa' bullshittery. That was not going to be her problem. And just when the fourth option came in, she slowed, he could've been on a stroll, everyone loved those, however, she was pretty sure she made a horrible impression and thus, she went back to pacing briskly, singing in her mind please don't notice me as she regretted not knowing how to do something like a flash step.

Where was that confidence? Not fucking here, that's where. Hm. The living world sounded much better. SO much better. At this moment. Perhaps, just perchance, that was embarrassment or shame.

As her body came to a turn and in spite of being an extension of her fullbring, instead of her physical body, she felt the impact that launched her from her current position and beyond like a soccer ball. As her back dug into the sand that she was forced to skate across with her launch, an ebony mist rose from the pup body and with the final escape of force being consumed by the friction of sand, and just where the pup fell to lie upon its side, the just delivery of words from the baker were the last nails to her coffin of patience for anything and everything. Guilt? No. Anger? Yes. Emotionally boiled and balled up anger, because at least she tried to say something and did not attack. But, it seemed her reflexive slaughtering no longer truly needed justification to thought. Everything was an issue. Everything could and will hurt her.

So, just as the hammer came down, the still body of the pup dissolved into thick sheets of what seemed to be vapor or a mist that came together in a haste to form a humanoid body in a stand, and with the final bits converting into shadow and sword. Once the reveal of her easily revealed frame came into sight, which was dressed in a ray of red to oranges, while her displeasure in expression was out weight by a simple, innocent and pure smile with her freehand over her heart. “Well. I am just wholly sorry to disturb, I am just a little bit too concern another poor hollow being erased by purist Quincy and I thought to extend a bit of kindness.” Rung the gentlest side of her voice, the more compassionate and endearing nature to it and it easily opposed her natural apathy and the worst part, it all seemed so sweet. Oh, the smartassary was coming.

“Then I remembered. You. And just couldn’t help but to choke up a bit.” All the honey that laced her voice reversed back into callousness with the drop of her hand and the little false light to her face disappearing, it was this same light she used to get under the skin of those she did not like and trust, she had a lot of training in this regard. She just didn’t know what to stab first. Did she want to use gasoline or diesel? That was the question “The dusty old, possibly senile, ancient soul that had no desire to converse or interest outside of wanting to bury himself into someone significantly younger than him. For a night.” Within that short moment of return shot, without so much as a thought or account or her own words, all biased to her and the voice that dared to utter them was nothing short of dry. Such a dry tone made the pale sand almost think of itself as snow. And it did not end there in the slightest.

Glossing over her own enjoyment of that time, if it wasn’t obvious, she was speaking to step on a nerve and if she hadn’t got hit yet, well, she had a lot of room to wiggle in her dug hole. And if there was only room to doubt, that was undoubtedly and unmistakably, the pink haired devil met, her hair was just inches away from touching the sand and she had less clothes, or more clothes on based on his last memory. Along with a bit more taxed and annoyed. “Now. If you will excuse me. I will be going to the other end of Hueco Mundo to get away from you.” she stated as simply, almost as if she had the option to leave. But... Nonetheless, she turned on her feet and went to proceed, to walk away without anymore desire for conversation.

Ah, catching ablaze almost within an instant, it seemed was gasoline used and while, being in her hole of difficulty crafted from pettiness and unreasonably, expanding as far as covering up and being a little too sensitive for her own good or being a complete bitch because she lacked any ability to converse and with her upbringing, she fell behind more. However… No matter how much an ass she could be or tried to be, she was scarred up mess, the words that were returned to her in a mocking repeat to what she said, did not satisfy a single thing and merely discouraged her further, despite saying them in anger or just emotional pushing due to her displacement. It did not take ample amount of words to make her feel bad, when she already felt inferior and terrible, and had the effortless words not been the icing, it was her reflection of always making everything worse, when she truly did not wish to. Unable to rear these emotions, her stone face had beaten in habit to carry a false smile for pleasantries, or in this situation, remain natural and despite it, her averting gaze betrayed the notion.

His entertainment was not something she shared, and spite all her guilt, she was much too stubborn to express her regret towards a few actions, because the last thing she needed was more... NO, she cut the thought. Silence or not, feelings or not and truly did not need his dismissal. Her stepping did not hesitant, and unlike those who were truly done, they were naturally calm and opposing this, was her brisk stepping almost like running from a disaster and she was emotionally flustered; an ill temper worsened with comment of ‘special’ tastes. As much as she did not want to admit it, she insisted on being this way, seeing this one point and wishing not to see in through, because that too, would be a disaster. As far as she could be concerned, the world was just made to hurt her and that was fine, so long as she hurt back… Yet, she felt so bad. Again. She couldn’t believe her own wishes, and still blowing it.

Retreating back into the same direction she came from without so much as a word, maybe he said something that caused her to seal up or maybe, she simply felt like shit at this point, however with the retreat of the ill tempered canine, the wasteland almost became a bit more lively with her foul temper because within the direction she went, another signature made itself known, it was potent, a displeased Vasto Lorde and near it, there was hers and she was unable to make it to her camp before getting the ‘talk’ about her behavior… A little jealousy with the behavior check too. It was with these two signatures that smaller ones began to lurk around, canine adjuchas that returned, but were curious about a presence that was not taken care. So, on occasion there was a few popping up ears that peeked over the highest mound of sand to see what was up with a silver haired individual before running off back to camp, to ultimately play guilt-the-guilt puddle, that was Sayuri. However, if one happened to be ask, they were to ‘watch’ where he went until ‘Dingo’ got back from the living world and despite their watch, they kept their watch accordingly.

Until she broke. Finally agreeing with Khlōros, the Vasto Lorde and somewhat willing to address the situation, which when was broken down in stupid-speak, the process of breaking whatever pride or ego she had and holding her insecurities at gunpoint with the other adjuchas as the bullets, made her open to reason. In short, said reason had her being pulled into a Garganta by Shira, the over excited canine that dared to ask about her joining them the first time and significantly, making up for being short with him earlier.

As the accursed handle sung upon its tik and tok, the passage of time was lengthy and filled with a few unavoidable issues, nonetheless she had not been hindered more than inconvenience by the parasitic livestock that aided in making up the trash waste within the living world. However, as the time sung the next hour within the bleached world covered in sand, that a ripple within the sky happened, the abyssal space tore with a single person being spat out to the blank canvas. She was welcomed back by Khlōros, who offered a warm touch to her shoulder and some words to assist. “A rule is a rule.” He said with a strictness to him and proceeding to, with her still in his grip, forcefully DRAG sonído her across the desert and once within fifteen feet of our silver haired friend, she appeared, with him and before she could say a single word of ‘never mind’ or have a ‘doubt’, she was forcefully pushed a foot forward. “I am a thousand too old for this bullshit.” As Khlōros spoke those words, he disappeared as easily as he appeared and like him, all the other lingering adjuchas, they left make for camp.

Don’t think about it. Just say something. Anything…. Once left alone, without a single word, she offered forth a medium sized boxed container and with a gentle scent from it, it was a food and if he truly had a good sense of smell, it was bacon. “I.. A.. Sor..” She mumbled, adjusting the container better. Her stiff as a board body with arms extended, the container did well covering her face, which was two shades of red and five shades of nervous. internally, but she was actually trying, visibly trying. And within the next moment, she actually started to speak. “Look…” In most in every occasion, she had a natural lifelessness to her voice and opposing that situation, at this moment, she was cotton soft in her tone and had a whimper, much like an INNOCENT pup when it was kicked with sprinkles of actual fear and nervousness, some gloomy because she actually felt like shit. “I shouldn’t have did it and I deserved the kick, if not worse. I abused your kindness, even if wasn’t my full intention… It still happened and stirred spite.” Had it not been this box, she almost looked like she was about to cry in fear. Oh, she was going to fuck this up, she ate the thought.

“It was pettiness one-fifth of the way in, and me not wanting to feel so used the rest of the way and worse, forgotten. So. I thought, if I did it, I’d get the chance to talk to you again. Where I’d actually have the ability to say something that didn’t annoy or upset you. Like I manage to do with ninety percent of the world. It was never personal act against you, to be standoffish, it is a habit and nature I have developed due to.. The many things I’ve been forced through. So. Before I have to suffer the emotion, I try to force first hand. Nonetheless. It does not excuse my… actions… Because… You really helped me.. That night. Despite it being an inconvenience to you. An—” She paused with a sniffle. A small one.

Oh look! A puddle! When did that get there? Was she starting to cry?

“And. Please accept this as an offering for my insufficient apology and, all the bacon I ate. And… The harsh words for earlier too…” Gentle in tone, she did not mumble, however, she did not speak loud. Within her words there genuine display along with honesty, even attempted justification, reasons that were truly personal to the point she tried to hide them, though,  she tried to dismiss too.

Apparent in her desperation of a struggling, definitely floundering, the slightest sound of a movement kindled the rearing of instant regret. Crackling, the smoke rose as the leaves reduced themselves embers, the flame tempted its reach, and the promise of a fire, it was extinguished. Feasting on her pessimism, her developed anxiety intensified, at the break, the almost crack, it halted by a sensation. Had there been any softening of her posture, it wouldn't have mattered as she stiffened up once again, like a board, and unable to stop her habit, she seized up, as she did, there was no defiance. Clung to the container, the object seemed more like a plushie used to comfort a child, her arms laced and held it close into her, the dimensions pressing into her stomach; its existence served well as a space between the two, a savior for what little pride she had to herself.

The arms coiling around her frame were met by stillness, a tension for a moment, but a softened smush that pressed into him, leaning gently. The tender kiss to her forehead served to soften her more, into a squishy jumble, a melting mess in his embrace and a mess attempting to scrunch into him, embarrassingly abashed. Sincerity in guilt, it could've been the emotional reflection, or maybe, the fact of a wrong opinion and she couldn't handle being incorrect. Another way, her panicked, fragile and insecure side gave her a chance to appear a little human, and far less monotone as she seemed. Such feelings wouldn't persist, especially if she considered the words he decided to use and thus breaking the internal sniffling.

"..." She thought, for a moment, merely a second and the slight her shift of her body, the slightest movement against him, his moving didn't disturb her, but something did. Hitting a nerve, a sensitive area, and the tickle something within her emotions; such an embarrassment, she definitely must've sounded so cringy, the thought killed her. Feeling the need to wonder about her levels of cringyness and bashfulness, interrupting the notions by a simple hand to her chin, and had the squishiness faded away, she would've been brave enough to be difficult. Sadly, she submitted for the moment and was under his current discretion, not her own. It could’ve been skittishness, where she couldn't lead herself, or possibly, she was comfortable enough to go along with it.

Comfortable.

Had there been a moment to question, he would've truly realized she was trying to hide her face and decided that with whatever little wisdom and pride remained, hiding her flushed face was a fabulous idea. A flushness easily spotted by the lift of her head, ranging from the nose's tip, stretching across her cheeks to her ears, and as her gentle pink hues rose to connect with his, her still heart moved to shake and shiver. Ah, she was going to be a fool again, a fool falling for someone and their advance without so much as a struggle, just nervousness having the way. The ice that encased her heart thawed, its softening and melting assisted by a pure tickle, a feeling forced a dance upon her lips with a gentle embrace, these sensations were foreign and pleasant, easily attracting her closer; deeper into her defeat she fell. And fall she did.

Quickly, it happened, not a single thought or notion made against it, and she relished it, it was all over her face, especially so, when he pulled away and smacked her back into reality, by being painfully sarcastic and casting his eyes to gloss her frame in a 'judgment'. 'This ass.' She immediately soured, however, the ruby decorating features implied it was absolutely impossible. She smiled with slightly narrow hues, pleasantly appearing a bit cheerier. "You are an ass." She replied insultingly with embarrassment; clawing desperately for control, any form of it. Promptly, she turned on her feet and planted her ass in the sand, lifting her right hand to place upon her head with an inch of distance, she spoke again. "And. I will have you know. I grew an inch." She added, jokingly, knowing full well what he meant. Ah, how softened she was becoming, attempting to keep her space to collect herself.

In thought or with a thought, the container she held in her lap, she plucked up, with a small turn without looking, she tossed the container at him. "And I too. I suppose. You are still attractive... " She said as a poke, rolling her eyes with it. "Maybe, that's I like you... Because you are an ass." She murmured, adjusting to go back into pouting. He wasn't that bad, but he didn't need to know that.

"And. I'd.. be happy to sit around. It'll be less lonesome." She whispered that.

Reclaiming any control would be wholly hopeless, equally impossible, and thus, it'll be wise to cede with the remains of her pride or fragments of her facade for later. It was disgusting, the squish and awkwardness she felt emerging from her lungs, the sharp exhale traveling between her lips in an escape was a sign in discomfort leaving the body, along with acceptance towards her situation. Within that exhaling breath, a small titter tangled itself, possibly, the sharp response tickled her, but it didn't harm or ruffle any, previously ruffled feathers. These feathers she attempted her best to comb downward, organizing them and as she tried to think, to process, she failed to notice her space had became invaded. It was with speaking about her presence, along with reminding her about the activity in the past that caused her thought bubble to pop.

"Well. That is such a sha—." Shifting her legs in anticipation to leave, much like her response coming to a pause, the inch of movement halted as well, with her gaze lowering to her hand, the hand he took to hold. For her, anticipation was like always walking on eggshells, while attempting to allow the sleeping dogs to lie unwoken, and in this instance, she had much worry, and yet, she settled. Her past with other individuals caused many difficulties in how she dealt with others, and thus it was nothing personal against him. The tensing anticipation within her frame subsided as easily as it surfaced, it seemed to be more trust issues than anything else, but at least he could touch her.

Within her stare to his hand, the tickling crawl of her skin, she thought for a moment. Considering within the same moment, he could undoubtedly break her hand with an effort placed into it, was it wrong she thought this first? Her moment of silence was crawling grounds for trust issues, that was the worst. "My name..?" She questioned with a hum of concern, between the Quincy and the Mare, her name caused issues, that showed on her face. In mind though, he wasn't a faulty person, he put up with her, and she felt guilty about not giving her name sooner. Days sooner. Weeks maybe? Whatever that time was. "It is Sayuri. Sayuri Suzume." She answered.

The redness upon her face faltered, it was soft, however noticeable, tenderly adding a tone to what frequently was features of emotionlessness, and thus, amazingly enough, she did not add more to her flush as she spoke. "Hey... As much as I appear to like calling you an ass. You aren't truly one. So..." She admitted, in murmuring, and with a thought to get his attention. It was a thought, a small one, but maybe it was better to repay his favor for continually taking the initiative to communicate with her. Inching a little closer, not by much, but just a little bit closer to him, enough to press lightly into him as the hand not held extended upwardly towards his hair. "What about your name?" She questioned, despite wanting to ask something else. She always had curious towards him, especially knowing the difference between what he was and she was, but despite it, there was something similar or familiar in a way. Maybe, it just felt too rude to ask. Being someone who got picked upon due to the differences between others and herself.

Immediately, she regretted inquiring about his name. "You have a unique name." She responded gently, unfazed by his loss of expression in his delivery, acknowledging how 'fickle' she could be. It'll be a strange taste from her usual attitude, and perhaps, she was growing softer. In honesty, she pondered on his words and maybe, he jabbed at something, at the least, she praised his control over his urge to mock her, because she must've sounded so ridiculous and reminding her of the sign, oh yes, she felt ridiculous. Considering her circumstances, she did well to dodge what she could, act dense where it was best. Withdrawing her hand back to her lap with her hues shifting to the right, loitering with a thought, and absent in expression, no smile and certainly, no frown, debate illuminated her face, but she did smile just a little bit with his poke at her being 'difficult'. Reflecting on her prior experiences, between the Stockholm and servitude, she wanted to call it that, she did her best to tolerate quietly.

"When you are feeble and pathetic, you do well to learn to pick and choose the knives you are stabbed by." She told as a sort of justification, not sinking any farther than that. In one feeling, acceptance for herself viewing her past circumstances, a reason for herself. Dropping her gaze to the soft squeeze of her hand, it was a little uncomfortable, but it was pleasant and something she could get used to if she allowed herself. It disturbed her somewhat when he decided to adjust himself behind her, his arms coiling around her frame as well. There was a small strain due to practice, developed manner to protect her from unexpected things, but this time, her response was the lack of 'participation' in this department, and thus, at most, it was apparent that she did not comprehend how to react.

"Or support someone showing their ass." She muttered in her response, a poke and tease. Pondering on her comfort, she adjusted herself a little, with her adjustment, she relaxed and leaned into him. Moving her free hand to his other hand, guiding both his hands together in her lap, and just, eased. Initially, she didn't feel comfortable resting all her weight into him, but this time, she leaned into him like he was a support pillar, melting into him, once again without tension or stress... Until he decided to somewhat trespass near sensitive space called her ear, speaking in a taunt and tease, she adjusted herself. "Here I was under the impression you forgave me." She said with a hint of 'irritability' in an attempt to replace being flustered, all the while easing the back of her head into his shoulder, as far as possible from his mouth without being obvious. "Self-sabotage? Irritation? Pettiness? A personal favorite, 'difficuntry'." As dryly as she spoke, there was honesty with a personal favorite term between cuntry and difficulty.

"I almost got away with it, but for some reason, you are in the desert." She paused for a moment, "I wonder if that makes me unlucky or lucky.." She whispered those trailing words.