empire of the dragon king

Indie, semi-selective, OC-friendly Hitsugaya Toshiro RP Blog. Will contain gore, violence, smut and anything else I feel like doing.

[winterherz]

A reaping of fire and ice

[winterherz]

sennokami‌:

Madara’s eyes slowly opened. He wasn’t glowing or changing, and he looked down at himself. What… what was going on? He felt hungry, but it wasn’t nearly as bad…

And that boy, where was that boy?

When he looked up, however, it was to a chain shooting in his direction. He instinctively leapt back.

The ground cracked where the chain impacted.

More chains followed. He was still disoriented and the chains were fast in ways that should have been impossible. They wrapped around his waist, his arms, and  his legs, and they began to pull him towards the piercing red light.

Madara struggled, but the wouldn’t budge. He grabbed the ground, his nails cracking and bleeding, but their pull was inexorable. From the corner of his eye, he saw the shrine. The boy, sitting there.

“Hashirama,” he whispered, looking towards the house. He was there. He was sleeping there. How could he not hear this? “Hashirama!”

The screams were loud, terribly loud. He risked a look back and saw a sword bigger than himself emerging from those terrible, deathly gates.

His fingers dug deep rents into the ground as he kicked, thrashed, did everything possible to escape. But it didn’t help. He was yanked off the ground with a shout and his hair whipped around his head, he couldn’t see, the house was getting farther away, Hashirama was getting away, no, come back, come back, he wasn’t done, he wasn’t done…!

Pain pierced his back. The sword was big enough that ran from his breastbone to his abdomen, and blood dribbled down his front. His voice cut abruptly short but he continued to struggle, reaching, reaching, back to where he was supposed to be.

He was pulled in. It was hot, white-hot, and the chains were pulling him in with the sword. The gates were beginning to close but wild desperation made him grab the gates. Madara held on until his entire body screamed and his bloody eye focused on the shrine, on that boy, and yes, he’d remember you.

He looked back to the house. His grip began to weaken. He wanted to roar but he felt like he was dissolving “Ha…shi…rama…” he whispered, holding on as long as he could. There was a final pull.

Madara let go.

It was a sight to behold, in the most terrible way. Toshiro knew of Hell, of course he did, but it was one thing to study the basics at academy and an entirely different thing to watch an unwilling soul dragged to its doom.

Because of him.

No, that wasn’t quite right. Toshiro didn’t do the judging, didn’t know anything about the soul’s misdeeds in life. It was a higher authority than a shinigami’s to judge a soul worthy of such misery.

And this one...this one could haunt him. The sheer willpower, the spiritual pressure...Uchiha Madara was a force beyond nature, all grit and blood and snarling defiance. Toshiro had half expected the chains to snap, for that wild-haired, wild-eyed soul to break free and come snapping back at him.

Dangerous. Powerful. He couldn’t picture someone like that entering Soul Society without making problems on a tremendous scale. Maybe that’s why Hell had chosen its prize.

Whatever the reason, it was done. He was done here, and could return, knowing his job to have been completed.

Before he returned to the Senkaimon, however, there was one more curiosity he would check on; the person the soul had been screaming for.

It wasn’t hard to guess at which one it was; the reiatsu there was compacted so tightly that Toshiro had to wonder why this person wasn’t bursting with it. A brightly glowing light, even as the man slept.

A curiosity was all he could afford it to be; he wasn’t here to investigate. Only one thing was certain; Toshiro hated reaping in this part of the world of the Living.

[winterherz]

//i’m not dead I just forgot my login here. ehem.

[winterherz]

//university life swallowed me whole, I’m afraid, won’t be back before the end of next week.

[winterherz]

the-lovely-weaver-black-ice‌:

It actually wasn’t a dig, not intentionally, Senjumaru only struck at her enemies’ sensitivities with her quick tongue when she wanted to hurt them. The truth, was that their transport could only hold so much weight and with the five Squad 0 members, Kusaka, Ichigo, the injured Byakuya, Rukia and Renji, they were quite full already. Still, she had seen the young captain look so conflicted and realized what had happened. So she was taking pity on them both. Besides, Toshiro was just light enough to fit in the transport with them, so why not let him come? “It will be alright, captain,” she told him calmly, “Just relax and be patient. All good things come to those who wait.” She cast a specifically pointed look at Kusaka who frowned, embarrassed, under his mask and looked away. Always rushing that one. “Come along then,” Senjumaru said gently, the other Squad members beginning to fill the transport with Ichigo and the injured,“We’re going home.”

“Right.”

How strangely familiar she seemed to be. Just what kind of relationship had Kusaka struck up with a member of the royal guard? A sting of curious jealousy pinched at him, but it was easy enough to brush aside. Kusaka’s business was his own. They weren’t children, they had very different lives.

Still. His former friend, his former enemy, his twinned zanpakuto. What had Kusaka made of it, far above Seireitei? Had he looked down and watch Toshiro fail at protecting his duties and his friends?

The jealousy turned to cold anger. Not for Kusaka, but for the never-ending tide of threats and dangers that wished to upend the worlds as they were. He should be used to it by now, but he was not.

Instead, he envied Kusaka the luxury of observing without interference. To have time to think of their personal losses, rather than face the collapse of everything he knew.

The complicated mosaic of emotion was too much to unravel right now. There was no time for it. Toshiro had to get back into fighting shape.

He followed Senjumaru, kept away from Kusaka, put himself by the orbs. They might only contain people more dead than alive, but they were people Toshiro had fought alongside. He’d trust them over the royal guard any day. And he’d keep an eye on their recovery, if it was even possible.

[winterherz]

//too early for anyone to be on, I see. aHa Timezones.

[winterherz]

the-lovely-weaver-black-ice‌:

Senjumaru looked over Toshiro calmly, listening to his request. Normally she would have said no, but it was clear that the young captain was worried about the injured she was snatching, especially Byakuya, so she nodded.

“Very well, you may come with us,” she replied, “I doubt your weight will upset anything and perhaps you may get some training in. Come along.”

Kusaka stood some distance away, his mask down. He wasn’t exactly upset anymore, although he recognized that he had upset Hitsugaya’s sense of emotional balance and thus was giving the younger some space. He probably wouldn’t even talk to the other unless Toshiro approached him first.

@winterherz

He’d ignore the dig at his size as he always did. Arguing with someone he’d asked a favor from seemed like an unwise idea.

Even if he had no love for the entirety of Squad Zero. The only reason he was intending to join them was his current weakness. Maybe his past weakness too. Maybe he’d always overestimated his own strength, put too much stock in being hailed as a prodigy.

The gaze on him was not unkind, but it wasn’t sympathetic. It was calculating. Senjumaru Shutara was not someone he was familiar with. Or wanted to be familiar with. Even if she was doing him aforementioned favor.

She’d been the one to save, no, recruit Kusaka. Whether he was grateful to her or not for it, he had yet to decide, but he could at least be certain about this journey to the Soul King’s palace.

“Thank you. I won’t forget your kindness.”

[incorrctbleach]

Toshiro: So I’ve got my suspect list down to four.

Hinamori: Four?

Toshiro: Well originally I had ten. Technically nine. I had Gin on there twice.

[winterherz]

Tentative starter call? I’ll roll into your IM’s for details or ideas~

[winterherz]

//I need a better system than logging in and out of three different blogs every day. How do people manage this without making a multi-muse blog?

[winterherz]

headsxwillxroll‌:

She blinked at his words and the shift in his tone. Staring at him for a long moment before fluidly standing from her seat, picking up her zanpakuto as she rose. The blade was unsheathed and a deep blood red color, the cross guard shaped like a heart and the hilt covered in a pattern of blood slipping down it. A twin blade to the one her brother carried, both of their swords appearing to be the same until released. The tea forgotten on the trey beside her as a cheshire smile slipped over her lips. “I suppose this means I won the bet then. Valerian is going to so disappointed.” 

Bowing to him she shifted to the side moving past him as she added. “I’m going to enjoy you whipping all of us into shape. This division sourly needs someone that can do it.” Pausing she then turned to him, an innocent look upon her face as she tapped her lips with a finger. “You might want to actually check the training field in comparison to the bath house. The numbers in each may surprise you.”

She’d been waiting for a captain that wouldn’t budge or back down. “A pleasure meeting you Taichou.”

“The...bathhouse?” It was the middle of the day!

Her sudden show of deference was a welcome relief, however, so he would forego any further action to discipline her. Apparently, he was going to be questioned, even by his own division, in his new position. He could only hope that these sort of incidents would come to a short-lived conclusion by his hand.

“A pleasure, yes. Carry on.”

At least she wasn’t grabbing a basket of bathing salts and sauntering off to the place where, apparently, his shinigami were slacking off.

He was going to skin Matsumoto if she was there. 

[winterherz]

the-lovely-weaver-black-ice‌:

Kusaka sort of expected that and maybe somewhere deep down he had known that Toshiro had known and yet… Hitsugaya didn’t care. He supposed it made sense, it was what he deserved, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself. It hurt, it hurt like something long wedged in his heart had just hit the vital spot and he was dying. Again. He’d gotten it out at least, and it didn’t change anything, never could, but at least he knew now without a doubt that Toshiro knew. It didn’t make the pain feel any less though. Kusaka sighed. “Well, you were always very studious,” he said over his shoulder, “Nose to the grind stone, sometimes even I couldn’t tell what you saw over all those papers.” He paused, and he was glad his mask was down because he didn’t think he could even force a smile. That’s how bad he felt inside. “Come see me off at least?” he asked, trying to not let his voice tremble, “You can owe me that, can’t you?” Because even though Kusaka had tried to soften the blow in front of Squad Zero and the others, the truth was, was that Hitsugaya had killed him! He had looked Kusaka right in the face and stabbed him through his chest, and Kusaka hadn’t been able to do it. His Hyorinmaru had shattered, his inner world utterly rebelling against hurting Toshiro, just as it had long ago. He was a fool, and he always would be for his snowfall.

“You really didn’t...”

Toshiro sighed. Kusaka was always so...emotional about things. He jumped to conclusions, wore his heart on his sleeve, missed all the subtleties and hints that Toshiro had always given to him.

Now, he was hurt because of it. He was trying to scramble a retreat after speaking his deepest weakness so openly to Toshiro.

He was such a reckless, poor fool.

“Sojiro,” he tried again, raising his voice so that he might be heard, listened to this time, “I’ve known how you felt since...since academy. Our hearts were much the same. I didn’t think I’d ever have to say it out loud.”

“I did love you. Back then. But everything you’ve done upon your return was to hurt me. For wronging you. And now you’re just back again, and at...at the worst time, too. I don’t have time to think about you again. 

Look around you; there are bigger things to worry about than romantic entanglements. I am a captain of the thirteen divisions; and I’m nothing but weak right now.”

[winterherz]

the-lovely-weaver-black-ice‌:

“Alright, I suppose I deserve that,” he answered with a sigh, pulling his hand back, and he averted his eyes, his resolve crumbling again. He could never tell him, could he? He had always come so close but put it off, thinking he had more time or feeling like he felt now, worthless and broken.

He was… lucky. He had three chances and third time was the charm but he’d made such a mess of things. Maybe he’d been wrong to come. Maybe he should have just pulled down his mask when he had arrived and pretended he was indifferent to Hitsugaya; to his shock, his suffering, his anger. But he wasn’t indifferent, was he? Couldn’t even pretend to be. It all just hurt to much.

In the near distance, he heard Squad Zero talking and Senjumaru’s voice. She had returned with the injured and they were pulling Ichigo Kurosaki into their fold, and Kusaka knew he had no time left. Regretfully, he stood.

“You know, back then, I didn’t know what had happened to you while I was trapped in Hueco Mundo,” he began, “I didn’t know if you were hurt or dead, and everyday I pushed myself to come home to you, holding onto the hope that you were alright. I thought, that when it came down to it, you would pick me just as I would pick you, instead of those 46 bastards. But, of course we both know how that turned out.”

Silently, Kusaka reached for his mask, unhooked it from his obi and just looked at it for a moment; the same shape; six almond shaped eye holes but black instead of bone white with silver inlay lining the eyes. A mask from Senjumaru.

He put it on and walked to the door, passing Toshiro and pausing there, hand gripping the frame because he was so unsure.

“…I don’t deserve to tell you what I have to say and I’m not sure you deserve to hear it,” he said from behind his mask, eyes unseen, “But in light of the circumstances, I’ll tell you before we end up dead…. I love you. I always have, and I know it’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done or how I’ve hurt you, but its how I feel and… I will never stop loving you, Toshiro Hitsugaya.”

Trust Kusaka to speak the words that had never been necessary. Even if they weren’t enough to explain away everything had happened, they cut through the questions and doubts like a knife. Or a blade, to be tragically ironic.

What could Toshiro say? That he’d known? That it had not mattered when he’d made his decision to kill Kusaka? That it had not changed their fate?

His heart was heavy in his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

He was, because those words should have the power to change the world. But they did not. They never did. Not when they’d been younger, not when they’d fought each other. Not now, when Kusaka was beyond Toshiro’s reach, even if he could open his heart once more.

“I’m sorry that you thought I didn’t know that.”

[princeofsilence]

Aftermath

[winterherz]

princeofsilence‌:

Byakuya took it with a dignified little nod.

“Your contribution was invaluable. Though your bankai’s evolution came as a surprise for everyone involved.” He looked down, aiming to glance at his face, but his eyes strayed a little beyond and onto where the wet white jacket was open and clinging to pale skin.

“You acquired an adult form of yourself.” He stated the obvious.

Did Hitsugaya remember their conversation after Byakuya’s disgraceful defeat? It almost seemed like he didn’t, and perhaps that was good. For now. It just meant he had to find a situation to tell him again, difficult without death nearby.

His path led him towards the barracks of Fourth Division, because both of them were in need for some slight healing, but mostly because they both needed to replenish their reiatsu for any more fighting.

It was a long path. Perhaps his fellow captain was equally as exhausted as he, and simply not using shunpo for the journey. Or there was some other purpose to this prolonged solitude they shared.

“Byakuya,” they were alone. He was going to bring it up now, before some idiot could disturb them. They’d earned a moment alone, had they not? 

“It really is good to see you back to strength.” Toshiro reached out with his arm that was too long and touched Byakuya’s shoulder. He’d be much more dignified about this if he wasn’t being carried around, but beggars couldn’t choose their moments.

[winterherz]

the-lovely-weaver-black-ice‌:

He had seen. From Senjumaru’s city in the clouds Kusaka had seen everything that Toshiro had gone through and he had sat up there and had his heart ache for both of them because there were rules. You didn’t breach the barrier between Reiokyu and the Seireitei unless absolutely necessary, because it left a whole, a way for enemies to get in.

During the fight between Toshiro and the Quincy, Kusaka had been angry and pacing, a caged dragon with his wings tied together and his jaw held shut, unable to come to the other’s aid. He had hated it, absolutely despised it. But he was here now and Toshiro was there, so…

“Yes,” Kusaka nodded, “For all intents and purposes, I am.” He paused at that second question and it was such a delicate thing, he didn’t know how to begin. Instead, he worried his lip a little in thought and then offered Hitsugaya his hand across the table. “…Toshiro,” he said softly, “May I… hold your hand? I promise I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you again, I swear.”

“My what?”

Kusaka’s promises would be sweet, if he could put any weight into them. He’d heard a lot of things from the mouth of his former friend. He’d heard madness from the same mouth too, madness and lies and desperate promises. They all became the same thing once someone declared themselves an enemy of Soul Society.

Toshiro had not dwelled on the past. He’d understood to move on, even if the closure he’d gotten was nothing short of a joke. Nevertheless, he’d pushed himself past the pain of not being able to save Kusaka. Again.

“What do you need my hand for?”

His suspicion shouldn’t come as a surprise to Kusaka. 

[winterherz]

A reaping of fire and ice

[winterherz]

sennokami‌:

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then a strong wind blew through the clearing. It didn’t cease - instead, it grew stronger until it whipped Hitsugaya’s hakama around his skinny frame. The ice continued to crack, steam seeping through the thin slivers, until the last piece of ice melted away from him. Heat rolled off his body in waves and his face was obscured by his hair. His transformation was also gone, revealing the man as he had been in life.

The wind grew cold, then deathly hot. There was a noise, a high-pitched whine on the edge of one’s hearing.

The sky darkened as a shadow formed over them. There was a sound like a thousand screams as black gates began to materialize out of unreality. They were heavy, fire-blasted iron with brass edging, and fossilized skeletons hung off the rough metal. Iron clanged as black chains swung off the gates and they cracked open an inch, letting out a stark red light.

The screaming grew louder. Hellishly loud.

This was  first. Toshiro sheathed Hyorinmaru, retreating from the soul quickly, finding a safer spot on top of the little shrine once more. 

Heat poured from the sky, screams filled the air. Only the souls of the eternally damned sounded that way, and Toshiro would be a terrible shinigami if he didn’t recognize the Gates of Hell.

But it was still the first time he’d sent a soul there. 

“I am sorry.” He didn’t know why. He hadn’t made the judgement, but still, he was about to see a soul dragged to hell. That sort of thing left an impression on you. This one must have been a truly wretched human in his lifetime.

[winterherz]

the-lovely-weaver-black-ice‌:

Kusaka lifted an eyebrow, loosely crossing his arms because he was pretty sure Toshiro did appreciate sunshine and flowers. He wouldn’t get into the particulars though.

“Yes well, even if we did ever get there, I would never top with you because I know how it would make you feel and I don’t want to do that to you,” he said.  

“You’re putting way too much though into this.”

[winterherz]

the-lovely-weaver-black-ice‌:

“Oh? And just what do you mean by that, snowfall? I could be a top if I wanted.”

“Sure. And I love sunshine and flowers.”