take my hand ; as you run me through

[sasayakc]

When it came down to it, responsibilities were not a thing that could be escaped from. That thought alone echoed in the busy mind, which was trying it's best to arrange words into sentences that would be worth letting out. Following the steady footsteps of Muramasa, it felt almost unnecessary to voice out any opinions being held back; they both must have recognized the positions they were in in this current situation. This was not a matter of the Gotei 13, nor the living, but the noble house of the Kuchikis and that was all there was to it. Then again, the details of this invasion's main goal were still slightly obscured, though it was obvious to Byakuya that this had to be something related to a man named Kuchiki Kōga, the unhinged man which their family would rather not speak about and which they made sure to keep as a shameful secret from most of Seireitei all these years. Would it be too brash to inquire about the prisoner from the estranged zanpakuto? Maybe. Yet the possibility to do so was quite intriguing to say the least.

"Muramasa. For whatever it is you aim to achieve, I will stand by and provide any needed assistance, as promised. Though it would most likely prove useful to be knowledgeable of any variables in play in case something unexpected happens."

The captain did not ask, but he expected the other to pick up on the clear suggestion to share some of the information being withheld.

His reiatsu had a PURITY that you would not find anywhere else. A soul that had not gone through cycles. Not tainted by a past life. Such was the nature of Kuchiki Byakuya. Muramasa's emotions were conflicted. He had spent many years in the good company of the Kuchiki Clan, and learnt to recognize their reiatsu as family. Of course, Kōga had not been a Kuchiki by blood. Still, this great clan had been his home. He had hoped to help Kōga bring honor to the family. But alas. The betrayal. when Kuchiki Ginrei turned Kōga away. Cast him off, like filthy, not worthy of the Kuchiki name.

So how about Kuchiki Byakuya? Did the young captain follow in his grandfather's footsteps? Or, did he understand that what Ginrei had done was WRONG? Did he want to make amends? Could he trust him? Muramasa had been alone for so, so, so long. He wanted - DESPERATELY - to be able to trust someone.

Byakuya PROMISED to stand by him and provide assistance. Could Muramasa trust his word? Ginrei had not kept his word. He hadn't treated Kōga like family. Hadn't stood by him. Was Byakuya the same? Muramasa didn't know.

❝ What I aim to achieve should be clear as day, should it not? ❞ He said, still walking ahead of the Shinigami, not turning to look at him. Not afraid he'd attack him. ❝ I am a Zanpakuto. I belong with my master. I must return to him. ❞ His voice dropped a little more quietly. Not because he was ashamed, but because it HURT. It hurt admitting out loud just how ALONE he was. Everything he'd said to the other Zanpakuto when he started the Rebellion had been a lie. He'd turned them against their masters, because that was his nature. But a Zanpakuto needed to be with its Shinigami master. An existence filled with separation was simply too painful.

[iobartach]

@sasayakc asked: "I'm not made to harm humans. You have nothing to fear from me."

The thought, despite its well-intentioned gleam, offered little evidence to suggest that he should take the stranger at his word. After all, would exceptions need be made if it were to be shared that he wasn't quite fully human himself? Deciding against spending time labouring the point, a creased line appeared in his mask where his brows drew together to form a deep ravine, his tone doing all the talking for him as he offered; "Can't say I can promise the same... Whoever you are."

Be it man, beast or spirit, O'Hara was yet to be certain. But, what facts that he did know with some degree of confidence told him that this one was not the invasive lifeform that he was after. And worse, for all that he knew, the anomaly could already be miles away from here... Wherever here was, exactly.

"What is this place?"

[sasayakc]

There was something strange about this human. Muramasa could tell that he had sustained some damage to his soul. Pulling him away from being human, and towards - something else. Was it permanent? That was not for him to answer. What he did know, was that he had nothing to fear from a mortal, despite the borderline threat he received in return of his own words of reassurance.

❝ A path between the worlds. Humans don't belong here. I will take it upon myself to guide you to safety. ❞ A part of the purpose why he was created was to defend humans, and even if this one was damaged, and perhaps even monsterous - Muramasa would not abandon him here. He didn't think the other would have the knowledge and skill to navigate. He probably had a home where he wished to return to.

[trehontin]

Formalities were only that; but with the slightest tendency to judge another person given how they presented themselves before him [ always? ], he would still offer a small bout of wit regarding rebuttal. Truthfully, there was the simple knowledge that if he had been refused a name, he might have just turned to leave, made to return to his current task and then vanish to where he had come from - alas, this was not the case. He could be content enough with that. " Enemies, hm? What a pity. " A way to announce a thought, past necessary means to be carried forth and offer little in the ways he spoke - but all explanation needed. A pity, indeed, it could be for so many of his former comrades, that they should be considered such, but all blanketed in the velvet tenor of a soft voice. 

" Aizen Sōsuke. " An introduction for another one. It was only fair, was it not? But that single opening was enough for him to know. " I've heard your name before. "     Yet he can not quite place where. Something to maybe ponder upon later, upon returning to his Kingdom, to his castle, when he all but follows movement and glances, raises an eyebrow upon the obvious interest in his Zanpakuto. Should he voice it? He had voiced enough by this point already. " Well, as you gave me an answer, I may as well return to your question of initial interest. I would not call myself a deserter, yet my affiliation with the Soul Society is non-existent. " Does one would want to assume that there was a place, a possibility, to become - brothers in arms - but not unlikely as it was, little to no interest in offering opportunities where no potential could yet be found. Nevertheless, it was a truly curious happenstance to find someone so close to his realm---

" You are close to Hueco Mundo. " A statement, nothing else. " What is it you followed? Or who do you seek? "

[sasayakc]

She was not an easy Zanpakuto to sway. She was content by her master's side. It told Muramasa a lot about the man. There could be no higher praise of character, surely? Muramasa was more focused on the other's Zanpakuto than the man himself, as if HE was the tool - not her. It was a habit of his, to understand a Shinigami's Zanpakuto straight away, so that his powers could be applied as quickly as needed.

The name ' Aizen Sōsuke ' meant nothing to him. If he had heard it in passing, he hadn't made note of it. When he had invaded Soul Society, the only information that had interested him was intel that could be used to locate his master. This Shinigami had not been useful, and so he knew nothing about him. Nothing that his Zanpakuto could not tell him. He was a powerful man, certainly, to wield such a weapon. Muramasa wasn't afraid of him, even if he gave off a... Strange aura. Foreign. Almost as if he belonged to another world.

❝ If you are not affiliated with Soul Society, then I will not consider you my enemy. I have enough of those, and I'm in no need of adding yet another. ❞ He answered. Aizen did not consider himself a part of Gotei 13 then. Very well. But he knew his name? Muramasa wondered if he also knew about his powers. Not that it mattered. Even if you knew what he was capable of, there was no way to STOP him. And, in any case, as long as he did not attack him, there was no reason for Muramasa to take his Zanpakuto from him. She seemed content where she was. He didn't want to ruin that for her. Didn't wish to separate her from a master she wanted to be with.

❝ I must regularly visit Hueco Mundo, as I need to absorb Hollow to keep my physical form. ❞ Muramasa placed a gloved hand against his chest, as if to illustrate. He didn't mind sharing this. ❝ Even if you are not affiliated with Gotei 13, I cannot imagine you would take up arms in order to defend the Hollow I need. If that be the case, then that would, regrettably, make us enemies. ❞

[sasayakc]

:D 🎶

No thank you. That was his immediate reaction to the aura of this Shinigami. It was unpleasant to him. Like murky water. Something sinister. Not evil, but - not with good intentions either. His eyes fell to the cane. The man's Zanpakuto, hidden - but not to him, of course. Her name? Benihime. His name? Unknown. ❝ I think that's close enough. ❞ Muramasa stated, tempted to hold out a hand to stop the other from approaching him any further. He didn't like him. Didn't like him at all.

[trehontin]

He doesn't remember this Shinigami. He would've remembered such a unique Zanpakuto. He had been absent when Muramasa had led the Zanpakuto Rebellion in Soul Society. Why? "Are you a deserter?" || @sasayakc

The tilt of his head was the first way of 'replying' to this claim brought forth by a being carrying out such a bold approach. Something was distinctly off about him, something was not like it should be, but not because of any impossibility to figure out what this man represented, what he was - oh, he was not so foolish to not know the kind this one represented, yet? A smile was the second way he would offer recognition of the obvious that being here and in front of him was something as unanticipated as he would only allow for it. 

" Such a private thing to ask. Should you not introduce yourself first? "

This mere means to uphold discardable politeness, he just wanted to see how the other would react. If he truly was unaware of who Aizen was. Hard to believe something like this when scrutinizing gaze fell to him, would sway over him, would take into account his weapon, Kyōka Suigetsu quietly, undisturbed, resting at his side - perchance he did not know. Perchance he did. He had little means or want to truly leave it up for interpretation. " I may indulge you then if I see it appropriate. "

[sasayakc]

WAS IT though? He was simply asking whether or not they were enemies. If this Shinigami was a deserter, and no longer affiliated with Soul Society, then he would not be Muramasa's enemy. He knew that any ally of Soul Society would consider him a war criminal, and have him brought to ' justice ' - according to whichever moral compass was in said person's pocket. There was something unnerving about the Shinigami's smile. Something dangerous. It seemed just like Muramasa was unaware of the other's name and origin, the Shinigami was unaware of his. He asked for him to introduce himself, and only THEN would he answer his question. Well - that was all the answer Muramasa needed. If the other didn't know who he was, then he'd take it he didn't take his orders from Soul Society anymore. That didn't necessarily mean the other wasn't dangerous to him, but he didn't seem like the sort of man who would attack a stranger without reason.

❝ Shinigami consider themselves my enemies, I didn't think formalities would be a priority. ❞ It was ironic, that the other should consider HIS question personal. In a way, for a Zanpakuto, there was nothing more personal than their name. A secret they kept hidden for so long, until their masters were ready to hear it. ❝ My name is Muramasa. ❞ He told him, after a moment's pause. Giving his name to a Shinigami always brought with it a sense of tragic nostalgia. The name of the Shinigami before him was unknown to him - but his Zanpakuto? She was named Kyōka Suigetsu. Muramasa always knew the names of his fellow Zanpakuto. It was simply integrated into his powers.

[sasayakc]

fenixias​:

How callous, how cruel. His own bitterness would color his world view, as her own nativity would color hers. Yet, it was not of ignorance, when she spoke, but of true belief. To meet the eyes of God, in the desert, barren and lonely, a warm hand extended to her with the promise of being reunited with whom  she had cared for most … even if marginal, that very consideration was care. 

❝  … I’m not stupid.   ❞  A soft justification of her idealism, almost mumbled from two - toned lips, ❝  He does care. Aizen - Sama  cares about most of us … Perhaps not all, but most.  And you are not one to speak out of turn and try to say something different.   ❞ Unto her bitter end, would she defend her Lord, knowing well in their late night conversations that his word was truth. ❝  I pity someone like you … Someone who’s been discarded, someone who knows lack of love, but you will not project that onto me.   ❞

How the word CUT into him. DISCARDED. He knew it fit him like a glove, but he didn’t want it. Didn’t want to hear it. Was he projecting it onto her? No, he didn’t think so. He was simply angry because she was claiming her delusions to be truths. WHY would a HOLLOW be loved by a SHINIGAMI? How could that be when --- When a Shinigami couldn’t even find place in his heart for his closest companion. She didn’t answer his question, which was proof enough that she was fooling herself. ❝ I may be projecting, but you are evading. Answer my question. WHY would a Shinigami care about a HOLLOW? ❞ He was demanding an answer to the question. He assumed there was none, because she truly was mistaken. 

[sasayakc]

soulxfragments​:

He was apologizing again..  Again, and again.. Her head lowered with a palm lifted to rest to her forehead.  Why did he feel he had to apologize so often?  Was he so scared of her disapproval?  Of failing her somehow?  The hand fell away from her head to rest across a knee.  And then, smoothly, she pushed to a stand from the rock.  The cane pressing down first to guide her step, and then boots next.

“I don’t know..” She admitted, “I’ve not been a Shinigami– substitute.. Shinigami.. for long.  I’ve no knowledge of the schooling of the affairs of these beings, nor the souls that inhabit their blades.

“Where you are meant to serve, I am meant to be guided – yes?  You’re a lot like my little friend.”  Jez considered, allowing some of her walls to drift down a bit.  Give him a glimpse of who she is behind that normally stoic demeanor.  Reserved, and chilled like someone who’s committed countless deaths in such a short lifetime.

Beneath it?  She was frail.  Awkward.  Uncertain.. For all the terrors she has faced, she still has never known how to trust someone so deeply.  To understand another person; another being so intimately that she truly felt alive.  Safe.  No longer afraid.. She would give anything to feel that..  Anything..

Determination moved her forward with the origami crane quick to follow.  Fluttering about in beckoning that Muramasa should join them as Jez would lead the way.  It would be a short distance before they would be met with a clearing of sorts.  Tall trees create a gorgeous canopy like the wilds had woven a sanctuary with just enough openings to cast the rays of sun, and moon alike when night might come, across a series of small hot springs along the farthest edge of the opening.  Where Jez would finally stop, however, was more flat.  More open with lush green grass creating a living carpet.

She unlaced and removed her boots, and pulled off her sockets to free her feet of their confines.  And with careful steps, began her walk across the comfortably cushioned velvet blades.  Hoodie guided up over her head to expose a tank top - and for the briefest moment, as it was lifted, it would drag the thinner fabric with it exposing her back.  A map of absolute torment engraved into her skin.  Some weaving tales of survival.  Most looked intentional.  Like someone had gone out of their way to harm her.  With many old enough that she had to be very young to have received them, and others – not old at all. 

As the tank top crept its way back down, she would lift the cane ahead of her; horizontal, and focus.  Wisps of embers seem to dissolve its exterior like hot coal pressed to paper; smokeless, scentless, without fire or ash.  Drifting into the air as each burning spark shattered, and vanished into the air around them.  Slowly, the blade that had been born of Muramasa’s fragments, would be revealed.  Metal sleek with an iridescent blue-purple reflection only absent from what once belonged to Muramasa’s original blade.  “Teach me to fight better with a sword.  And keep in mind I am blind.  You will have to correct me physically..”

Was she asking for his GUIDANCE? Muramasa remembered - as if from a past life, a little boy. Eager to learn. Looking at him with awe. Kōga had been such a sweet child. So eager for power - perhaps Muramasa had given it to him too soon. Was his new master asking for the same thing? Was it SAFE to give her powers? Muramasa wished he wasn’t so insecure. What she needed from him was guidance and security. But he--- He was terrified of making the same mistakes as he had with Kōga. Why? Because he couldn’t pin-point what exactly he had DONE WRONG. He felt like he was walking blind. How fitting.

Jezebel (blindly) gestured for him to follow her. He would do so, walking behind her. This place was beautiful, he thought. The green around them was such a welcoming change to the ocean where he’d lived his entire life. He’d be lying if he said it felt like HOME though. The forest opened up around them, revealing the sky. Muramasa looked up, his bangs briefly parting further. Jezebel was kneeling down now, removing her boots. Muramasa stood by and watched, wondering what she was doing. Muramasa himself was always fully dressed - he even wore gloves. It was the appearance Kōga’s soul had formed for him. His white outfit was a memory of their time together. A part of him ( a big part ) was afraid that as he bonded with Jezebel, his appearance would change by the influence of her soul. Did this mean he wasn’t ready to bond with her? Was he holding back?

She appeared to be undressing. A look of confusion settled upon Muramasa’s features. She had not asked him to look away - but shouldn’t he? Just as he did, he caught a brief glimpse of scars. She had a lot of them. He didn’t want to ask about them, in case they were painful memories to her. Weren’t most scars? He had none. Not even from the blade that had pierced him. His body was not made like that. He looked back at her, relieved to see that she had not completely undressed (why she had removed some of her clothes in the first place? He had no idea). She was now holding a blade in her hand. Muramasa recognised it. It was the reforged version of himself. How strange. 

Her request came sudden. He hadn’t been expecting it. He didn’t know HOW to instruct her on how to fight. With Kōga, everything had come naturally, because they had been meant to be together. He wasn’t meant to be with Jezebel - or at least he didn’t think he was. He didn’t know how to guide someone who was blind. But - he would do his best! When she asked something of him, there was no way he’d refuse. He wanted to help her. He wanted to be a good Zanpakuto.

❝ As you wish. ❞ He stepped closer to her. Muramasa had fought hundreds of battles - he was a seasoned warrior. ❝ The best way to learn is by doing. I’d like to observe your fundamentals. Why don’t you attempt to strike me? ❞ He was within reach of her - but of course he would dodge her attacks (or at least attempt to). He wanted to see how she moved. If he didn’t know which level she was at, he’d have no way of knowing where to start. Not to mention... Fighting was the BEST way to bond with your Zanpakuto. He had missed it so much. 

[sasayakc]

" ― why are you staring like that?" Kouga had a raised brow whilst observing Muramasa. Why the other had materialised was not a question he really wanted to know an answer for, instead silently accepting it. "We have a duty and need to sort it out, nephew's orders. Then we can train, that fair?"

❝ My apologies. ❞ The reply came automatically, and his gaze was lowered to the feet of his master. It was RARE for him to materialise without being called forth. It was just --- It had been a while, and he grew weary when he waited in their shared Inner World. He was afraid that they'd once again be unable to hear each other, so sometimes... He just had to materialise to see if Kōga was still there. How silly. As if he would ever disappear. It was an irrational fear he had had ever since the other's voice stopped reaching him. He could hear it again now - thankfully, but the fear... It remained. Their bond was fragile. Muramasa was scared to do anything to harm it, hence why he was apologising - and very willing to serve. He wanted to be useful to his master. ❝ I'm looking forward to training with you. ❞ Muramasa said, unable to hold back a smile. He was excited to get to spend time together! He wanted to help his master get stronger! Kōga's nephew was making this desire grow even stronger. Muramasa wanted Kōga to be the strongest.

[sasayakc]

fenixias​:

❝  Not a tool. No.   ❞

Used?  She could hardly call the relationship between herself and her creator one of a master, a wielder, and a tool. He had explained, to her elation, she was NEEDED. That her sight, her ears, her thoughts, were all so needed. Fingers wring those on her opposite hand, and she does her absolute best to keep her anger, her bitterness from dancing at her tongue. She wishes she could be better, but every so often, it would part from her body like a ghost. 

❝ Aizen - Sama cares about me. Even if he has a difficult time showing it to others. Not as he cares about Gin - Sama, but he does care. Or, he never would have chosen me. Taken me in.   ❞

      ❝ A SHINIGAMI caring about a HOLLOW? Don’t make me laugh! And here I thought you claimed to be a creature of intelligence. Why would a Shinigami care about you? ❞ His words were harsher than necessary. He could hear the stinging pitch in his voice. It just --- triggered him, that she’d claim to have a Shinigami’s devotion. As if care and concern was something Shinigami easily extended onto others. The truth was that Shinigami DIDN’T care about anyone. Not even those who stood them near. Muramasa knew that better than anyone. He tried to tell himself that it was not the Arracar’s fault. Everyone could be manipulated ( again, he would know ), but for her to claim such an idiotic thing with conviction... He hated it.

[fenixiasarchive]

❝  And, a masterless blade is in no position to be disrespectful of that which it does not know. I am not BASE hollow. I am a creature worth of respect. And with such, you will treat me. ❞

Even toned, she speaks, hands holding one another close to her chest. Murky water was to be tread, here, and she knew many of her superiors would simply leap into battle ; something she almost wishes she could do.  But her hesitation … kept her from acting rash. Eyes cast themselves downward, shoulders taught and pulled back as she maintains about her, that aura of something else.  Something not of this plane, not of this place. 

❝ You were made to save us.  And clearly,  by the sheer number of not only my people, but those below, your kind have been doing all but that. They certainly never came for me even before I was this.   ❞

[sasayakc]

      HOW DID SHE KNOW? The word masterless hit him as if she had pierced him with a spear. How was she knowledgeable of his fate? This immediately made him wary of her. She proceeded to bask in her own arrogance, claiming herself to be above her own kin. 

      She was not wrong - A Zanpakuto could cleanse a soul. Such was its purpose. However, it was not something Muramasa had done much of. His former master had chosen a different path for them. What she WAS wrong about was who was to blame for how few souls were reached before they turned to Hollow. A Zanpakuto was merely a tool. If someone was to blame - it was the Shinigami. ❝ It is not for us ZANPAKUTO to decide how we are used. We are tools. Much like yourself, I’m sure. ❞ Not that he wished to have anything in common with a Hollow, but - the Arrancar were created to be used by Aizen, were they not? 

[sasayakc]

      ❝ A Zanpakuto owes no manners to a HOLLOW. I was made to kill you. Be grateful for my mercy, instead of criticizing how I address you. ❞ He was genuinely not a HOSTILE person, but what he said was true. It was Shinigami’s task to slay Hollow, and HE was the tool of which slaughter would be performed. He didn’t care to be polite with a Hollow, regardless of how ‘ human ‘ she appeared. She might seem like she was innocent, but Muramasa saw her arrogance. She looked down upon her own kin. He had seen what alienating yourself from your equals could do. He didn’t wish that fate upon anyone. Not even a Hollow. / @fenixias​ ,, continued .

[ccalm-deactivated20241219]

[sasayakc]

kazeshinigami​:

His inner pride scoffs that he doesn’t need to be understood, that it means nothing that Muramasa is extending understanding to him. But… he can’t deny that he feels a small measure of satisfaction when Muramasa validates him. It isn’t just him, then! Others can see how foolish his partner is! Shuuhei is the one who needs to get with the program and learn to trust him already.

“Glad ya’ve got enough of a head on yer shoulders to tell what’s what,” and he nods, as if the whole thing is an idea to his own credit. Far be it from Kazeshini to admit that he’s logging Muramasa’s advice away as confirmation of his own gut leaning. “There’re probably lots of other zanpakuto—” not himself, of course “—who’d love to cry their lil hearts out to ya. Gonna stick around, or…” Without his master, will Muramasa… move on?

      This was Kazeshini’s subtle way of saying he was DONE taking advice from him, huh? That was fine. Muramasa wouldn’t force him. The other’s question hung in the air for a long moment. Gonna stick around, or... He could not tell him the truth. That he was AFRAID OF DYING. Afraid of disappearing. Regardless of how painless and meaningless his existence was, heading into the abyss was... Frightening. There would be no second life for him, because he was a Zanpakuto. It was this life or nothing.

      ❝ I haven’t decided. ❞ He lied. ❝ I suppose I’ll just see if I’ll have the patience to listen to some more Zanpakuto cry their little hearts out to me. ❞

[aaresx]

Albert Camus, The Fall

[sasayakc]

      INBOX CALL!

[sasayakc]

      Watches everyone from a distance.

[sasayakc]

She was calling to him. Beckoning him to come out and show himself. Kindly. Nothing hostile, or concerning. Upon Muramasa arriving beyond the zanpakutou, her hand would reach out to collect his wrist with a beckoning pull. Hoping to lean the spirit down so that their faces were near to one another. "I learned something recently." Jezebel explained as her hands lifted to gently collect around the frame of his visage. Feeling the edge of his jawline and ears under fingertips so that she knew precisely where he was. And then - she would kiss him. Not on the lips, of course. It felt a bit strange to do so with her own zanpakutou even though he was not born from her soul. Rather, a kiss would be pressed gently upon his cheek.

There was a sort of warmth to her features. A light blush, however more than that was a sort of subdued joy in being able to share such a simple tradition with her companion. Her hands would sink away from his face as she began to explain.

"There's a fair bit surrounding the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. I suppose for us it's less about romance, and more about.. good fortune. And the bond we share." A tiny hint of a smile found its way across her lips, "Apparently one berry is to be removed for every kiss. There is one left on this one.. Would you pick it for me?"

Coiling fingers about one of his hands, she would wait for him to pluck the berry. "Don't eat it." She warns, "They're quite toxic." A small tug followed, "Enjoy the festivities. It's my first time, and I'd like to share it with you."

       When she called for him, he came. Of course he did. The fact that her voice was able to reach him was his greatest joy, and he would always answer her call. He stepped out of his Inner World, and into the World of the Living. He wondered what she wanted from him. He was ready to serve, his head slightly bowed in submission. To his surprise, she took a hold of his wrist. Her fingers would meet soft, silk-like fabric, because Muramasa always wore gloves. Following her beckoning, he leaned down ( he was a lot taller than her ). Her face was strangely close to his. He didn’t move away when she touched his face, cupping it with her hands. This was the only way she could ‘ see ‘ him, and who was he to refuse his master? She pressed a KISS to his cheek. He had never been kissed before, not even on his cheek. Heat rose to his ears. It felt strange, to receive such affection from his master. He had no clue what he had done to deserve it. Muramasa stood still, unsure of what to do or say. Thankfully, she explained to him about the tradition of kissing under a mistletoe.

      Naturally, it was not about romance. He didn’t know the age of her soul, but he thought that his was older - too old for her. Not to mention she was his master! He would never look at her like that. She asked him to pick the final berry for her, and he did. He reached up and carefully plucked the red berry from its thorny nest. He decided he’d keep it, and it was slipped into his pocket. He should say something, but - what to say? 

      ❝ It’s my first time too. We didn’t celebrate Christmas in Soul Society. ❞ At least not all those years ago. Christmas, he knew, was more of a western tradition. He doubted the Kuchiki family was interested in such things. ❝ I’d be honored to share the celebrations with you. ❞ A polite bow of his head followed. He wondered what Christmas was like, and if it was alright for HIM to take part.