[Fᴏxᴛʀᴀɪʟ | Vᴜʟᴘᴇᴄᴜʟᴀ Vᴇʀsᴇ | SʜɪɴRᴜᴄᴄɪ]
cixucci
By now, Shinji had long since lost track of the flow of time that had passed since his incarceration. It could have been decades, it could have been centuries; he had no way of knowing for sure. Suspended in an endless black void, his senses smothered and muted, sealed against his will and forced to survive in a hell that was limbo for the rest of his life…such a cruel fate would have driven lesser beings insane a long time ago.
But Shinji was not just anyone, or any being, to be more precise. Once, his place had been with the greatest and most powerful of vulpines that served the Great Inari Okami. A Tenko he had been, a heavenly fox – the Nine Tails, the highest rank there was amongst Inari’s divine messengers – before he had fallen from grace and earned himself this harsh and unforgiving punishment. His tails were incomplete now, four of the nine sigils of his personal power and strength sealed away for the sins that he had committed against his god and master, his once pure, snowy white pelt tainted by color – flaxen gold like his long, flowing hair – a telling indication to all that he was no longer one of Inari’s sainted familiars – discarded, disowned, banished.
However, Shinji persevered. Time continued to slowly trickle by, and he survived this insanity inducing void by turning to hibernation. God only knew how long he had slept in this hell. He felt nothing, sensed nothing, experienced nothing. For a long, long time, he was nothing and nothing was him.
What was existence? It was ephemeral and fleeting. In the grand scheme of things, he was but a tiny grain of sand in the arid desert of Life...or so this imposed period of isolation had forced him to rethink his position. It was becoming an increasing struggle to remember the memories of the past, to remember who he once was. He would not be missed if he disappeared now, just faded away like how morning fog would greet the sun; no one would mourn him, no one would care. He would silently vanish into the annals of History, forgotten, forsaken, his very existence erased….
No!!
He would persevere. If anything, to spite the god that had abandoned him, that had looked upon him with such disappointment and sadness before he sealed this errant child of his away for good…
“One day, you’ll understand why I had to do this. Until then, sleep. Sleep until your name is evoked once more, and you are given new purpose…”
But what was his name? He no longer remembered. But that was alright. Who would call upon him in this vast emptiness? No one. He was all alone. Had always been alone.
…H…ra…o. S…n…ji.
Hi…a…ko. Sh…n…ji!!
A niggling, foreign sensation, one that he had not experienced for so long that he almost could not understand what it was. What…was that? Oh. That’s right. A sound.
A voice.
Female. Insistent. Niggling.
Calling. Calling. Always calling.
It was aggravating, but at the same time he was unwittingly enthralled, drawn towards the sound. The first thing that he had heard in next to forever. It was a lovely voice, a sweet voice, like music to his starved, deprived sense of hearing. He did not want it to stop. Don’t go away. Come nearer. Who are you? What do you want?
Someone was calling…a name...? ...Him…?
“I command you to awaken, Hirako Shinji!!”
Icy, slit golden eyes snapped open.
