"I can give you your mother back"
“Wh—”
I can give you your mother b a c k.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at!?”
And oh, does it rip at him. Tearing at the strings of his heart that do so yearn for a mother lost from days long since passed. A sacrifice that was made and, at the time, deprived of understanding and reasoning. A deprivation soaked in crimson that struck a fear of the unknown into honey orifices.
But now? Now there is a rage nigh unmatched. A mockery that is extended forthright past stubble framed lips that caused his stomach to flip in accordance. Who the hell was this quincy to try and use maternal lack as a weapon. But the agony of it all is that it’s working, it’s working against him because all-in-all, Kurosaki Ichigo is in fact still human beneath prowess granted throughout time’s duration of extensive passing.
R E S O L V E
re·solve
riˈzälv,-ˈzôlv/
noun
noun: resolve; plural noun: resolves
1.
firm determination to do something.
“he received information that strengthened his resolve”
synonyms:decision, resolution, commitment
Hallowed be the name of a mother scorned by evil’s reckoning. Vengeance had already been sealed shut, the wound tended to.. until now. Freshly ripped back into reality, opened with the mere likeness of opposing claim. It sends the mind into a frenzy, reeling back into the past. It’s nigh impossible for such likes to not unfold in the wake of what is and what isn’t. And it’s almost like he can smell it, now.
The rain on that unforgiving day. The river, the girl bait.
Young was he, naive in so many ways. And even to this day does that naivete break through. (Lo, he is still humane.) But that matters not in this reminiscent flurry of a mentality’s betrayal. A momentary lapse that rebirths the moment in which he lost a mother so pure, so true. The beast responsible had fallen once, and then again. Slaughtered now into the nothingness that is beyond eyes. A void that sucked in a beast by death that bore its fangs and sank its teeth into an innocence now known as a quincy mother to a mixed breed child (father of shinigami root).
But now this child was enraged even further being taken back to what once was. By a man that would rather destroy a sanction of souls and protectors of those that pass, that protect a balance between the deceased and the living. A tale as old as time of differences ne’er having been settled between shinigami and quincy alike.
So let it be that a grip tightens upon guards of duality, blades crying out in a silence of light’s glint. A readiness to bathe in he blood of discord that so self-righteously claimed nonsense to he who has lost more than any human should have to bear. A way that the sanity is strained and the resolve is beaten and bloodied only to be STRENGTHENED and HARDENED like no other. That resolve is u-n-p-a-r-a-l-l-e-l-e-d, unmatched by any other that he would come across, be it from the past, the present, or the future.
Black hole sun, won’t you come, and wash away the r a i n .
Mighty prowess lurches skyward, garb of ebon and ivory forced through the velocity of wind’s force against statuesque, youthful framework. Tufts of tangerine furrow and knit inward, forehead folding in pure disgust and distaste even further more so than prior of momentary questioning. A fire is brewed, birthed through unbridled temperament surging forth like a solar flare. The flash step guides him forthright on a trail of r e d .
A growl. “You son of a bitch! Shut the hell up!” The lion roars, reckless attack nigh.
