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tampered2008-09-12 12:36 am
anti-buttons.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-09-12 12:36 am
LOG; COMPLETE
When; September 11; 9PM EST
Rating; R for gore - ALSO TL;DR BUT YOU LOVE IT HOKAI
Characters; Cirucci Thunderwitch {![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thunderwitch} & Ishida Uryuu {anti_buttons}
Summary; '...and if they haven't died yet, they are still living today.'
Log;
It was time.
There was no way to tell, it's not like the Arrancar kept a clock, nor did she keep track of days, or months, or even years. She was beyond these things, beyond concepts of time and waiting simply because of what she'd made herself in to. But she still knew it was time.
Farewell, she wondered, what that was. Confidently, outward, at least, she left, she walked, even. Didn't run, she walked. Reiatsu blaring, clearing announcing her intent, she only broke in to sonido the last leg, the reverb of the movement following close on her heels before the roof of the Quincy's apartment building.
It was a nice day, she mused. Golondrina shone in the daylight, that bright, overreaching sun that reminded her of Hueco Mundo. She'd never see it again, because the moment she returned was the moment a Quincy's arrow pierced her chest. This moment.
"Shiro-Megane-Kun!" Shouted,and whip cracked, lips stretched wide in a laugh. "Time's up!"
The moment she let loose, Uryuu knew.
There had been little point to stewing for days in outright paranoia, in looking twice at shadows and staring a little too long at the sky when he walked from one place to another. He had not worn his uniform everywhere, no, had not lost any sleep. An easy, surface reason: it was cooler to maintain such composure. But in reality, it was the knowledge of her, his familiarity had had him suspecting her methodology. She would do it right.
He felt the explosion of her reiatsu, and recognizing it, Uryuu calmly stood from his chair. With precise, unhurried movements he put away his needlework and retired to his bedroom, so to change from casual slacks and a zip-up shirt to his uniform, to don the tools of the Quincy. White cloth fell against him, fringed in blue, laying over the belt of schneiders and gintou, the pendant felt cool against his palm as he walked. He would do it right.
As she shouted, he climbed the last step of the staircase to the roof. The door swung open and he gazed up, hand moving to adjust his glasses and shield his eyes from the sun.
"You want to do it here?" He asked, cool and appraising. "... No matter. I won't let anyone else get hurt."
"Right on time~" A pretty little croon, the sharp tone hidden beneath the words obvious to him, who probably heard that more than anything. "I knew my Shiro-Megane-Kun wouldn't be late."
Of course he wouldn't. This was his opportunity to be rid of her forever, and who wouldn't pass up the opportunity to be rid of the noisome Cirucci Thunderwitch. She'd set all of this up. Year... over a year, almost a half? She couldn't remember. But she'd been around too long, been rotting in this hell of a City for too long, and she was tired. Just end it. It would end like that no matter what she did, and how disgusting... how utterly lacking pride, to struggle against that. Just face it. No turning around.
"Will you?~" Golondrina spun. "It must be hard to fight concerned with so many people."
His fingertips slid against the bridge of his nose, pushing at the rim of his spectacles. She came to focus, distorted by the light behind her.
"It's rude to keep a woman waiting," he noted, the smirk in his voice if not on his face. A familiar turn of words, though words weren't what he intended to exchange. When his eyes had adjusted, his hand fell, though not to rest at his side.
"Against you? Not at all."
Uryuu hadn't finished the last word before the bow materialized, flaring in its explosion of concentrated reishi. He knew better than to expect his first volley of shots to hit, but they were not for warning: he aimed, to so speak, to kill.
Of course they wouldn't hit. She wasn't that kind of girl, mm?
"Rude to keep me waiting?" Laughed, as she dodged, quick to the left, "But not to insult my prowess?!" To the right, and she lashed out in return, the disk of gold whipping out before he as she leapt in to sonido, rushing head.
This was it. For a second she could have guess time slowed down, but then her eyes focused on the disk that was leading her charge, on the spinning blade.
Golondrina. Herself, form sealed in blade. Death.
For her.
"Is it an insult if it's true?" asked, Uryuu wasting no time in watching the energy strike into the sky, his eyes fixed only on her. For once, she had earned, could claim his complete attention.
Lord his superiority all he might, emphasize with arrogance his strength, but Uryuu knew better than to underestimate her - someone like the Thunderwitch, the coyote chewing off her arms for one last strike. This wasn't the last, no, only the beginning of what would finish it, and Uryuu gathered the energy beneath his feet, picking up a speed to match hers (despite his claim of it being an improvement), the enormity of his web-like bow maneuvered to buffer the blow, to shield against it, his arm curved behind it as his fingers dipped for the silver tubes of his reiatsu.
Earned it, she had earned it. She said to herself, of course.
"We've done this already, Shiro-Megane-Kun!" She shrieked over the squeal of her blade spinning against the Quincy's reiatsu, recalling this exact moment replayed in her mind. This exact time, this exact word-
"That isn't a shield, you know!" Whipped back, nails curling over the hilt before whipping the blade back at him.
Deja vu did not disorient him. This was a memory; the peal of her voice, the way it reverberated unpleasantly on his eardrumbs. This was a memory; that phrase, word for word. Memory would let him be comfortable, overconfident, and that was dangerous - he had the longest reach, of course, but to underestimate.
"Then let's make it interesting," he said, teeth gritted to prepare for the blow as he launched toward her, almost into the path of the blade, the impact of it against his bow as he aimed for deflection hard enough, jarring back hard enough against his arm that he knew he'd need to be more careful - it might dislocate.
As he moved, sped by particles, his hand closed on and flicked out the gintou, mouth moving over the words for haizen: "Feel the wrath of battle and accept this sacred chalice - Sacred Bite!"
"Let's!" The feel of the blade connecting was something that resonated in her, and putting aside the memories was distracting, hard enough as is. Cirucci was the type, despite denial, to dwell in the past. She was happier there, after all, in the memories of her now tattered glory, her forgotten rank, and her battered pride.
Those gintou, they defied her last memory of their fight in Tres Cifras, jolting her out of replay to yank her blade back, boots ground in to concrete, and she jerked her body back, leaping in to sonido barely quick enough to avoid the radius of his reiatsu.
"Nice start!" Her own in return, twisting as she still moved, free hand extending to push a bala of her own energy back at the Quincy in retaliation.
No use in thanking her, in wasting the time, in determining the appropriate verbal retorts. (No use, which didn't mean Uryu would be actually able to keep himself from it). He would, however, offer a thin smile, certainly not stationary; though a disruption from the nostalgic return, her bala was easily enough dodged.
It was enough to find a difference. If then, the longest reach had determined the outcome, would it continue to? Both were aware of the full extent of the others abilities; though Uryuu had not gone all out the weapon that had defeated her had been something he'd intended to reserve, and if it would bring him victory now, he would need to plan.
"Well," he began, not pausing as he did, firing, experimentally aiming to her left side, as if to goad her into dodging right, "Will you release? You might have a better chance."
She might have indulged, feinting to the right, but instead dropped, one palm hit the rooftop, other arm lancing out to lend Golondrina once again to the charge.
"You haven't earned it yet, Shiro-Megane-Kun!" She crowed, smirking broad. "Where's your white ant? And his sticky weapon, hmm?" A laugh, at the memory of that stupid, stupid white ant, and his stupid act. Disgusting.
Utterly disgusting.
Another bala, keep him occupied. Like she was.
No, such obvious maneuvering would never work on her; Uyruu had not expected it, but could not pass up the experiment. Any real attempt would need to be far more fine-tuned; as it was, he had to prevent himself from admiring her agility, a task easily enough accomplished as he was again on the move. Like before: though both were diminished by the City, once again he found himself on the offensive.
It would be rude to rush this - but not merely that, it would be careless. Though Uryuu had full confidence in his ability to bring her to her knees, to defeat her without doubt, he could not let the seeming absolute of that dictate him. In pride, even well-founded and indubitable, the largest flaws laid: this city had forced him to see it (to deny it vocally but know). She lived it.
Running, Uryuu was forced into a spot of awkward acrobatics himself, almost dashing clear off the roof but for a sweeping, near-sprawling crouch that crashed his heel against the roof-edge; but the balo soared past him, fringing the tips of a bang.
While still low, he fired, concentrating the reishi into a surplus of arrows - as many as she would allow him before the next close call? No, for as his fingers drew on the air's energy, he sprang from the ground, simultaneously prompting hirenkyaku to carry him into the air, over the edge.
Golondrina whirled, and the Quincy evaded. A quick pull of her fingers, the familiar burn of the wires racing through an experienced grip, and her blade returned to her in time to block the neon reiatsu, scattering the blue hue over the her vision as Ishida gathered his own spiritual energy, enhancing his own mobility.
"Let's race, Shiro-Megane-Kun." Golondrina was too comfortable in her hand, too familiar. A beautiful, whole, presence. Herself. Her true, true, form. Let it be like that, then. Let it be like that, how it was. Or it wouldn't be right.
"KAKKIRE!" Shouted, that one word more clear than anything she'd said yet, and she sprung after the Quincy in a boiling rage and shuddering burst of reiatsu and rubble, demolishing a portion of the buildings' roof as she went, bone materializing around her form as she took that all too familiar silhouette.
Her voice reached him first, then the new intensity of her spirit pressure. Despite the concentrated platform, an easy enough task, Uryuu did not aim for another roof. She would always have the advantage due to the shape of her form in flight, and he would always be looking up. Though the platform, maintaining a position above the ground, was possible, it wasn't something that would necessarily provide the advantage here.
No, aside from the stone now showering thundering to the ground, deja vu had again lifted the hair on his neck.
Uryuu turned in the air, his bow maintained shieldlike in front of him as he reached down. Fingers brushed path the cloth of his tunic to display the Seele Schneiders against his legs. "Do you see what I see?" He asked. "Or should I repeat myself?"
"All I see-" Reckless, it seemed, rushing at him and closing in, like a bullet, straight and true, the bone fully formed and feathers spread out behind her, tail beginning to snap and snarl, viscous fluid leaking from the maw there as she charged a cero, the white appendage snaking out behind her.
"Is a Quincy ready to die!" Her voice ripped through the wind, and then wings readied and fired, steel feathers flying towards him with the whoosh of displaced air behind them.
No admiration of the grotesque majesty. With his hirenkyaku, her speed was no problem, nor was her weapon: the issue was what it had been, and Uryuu no longer needed to run, to escape, to be sure of it. Rather than dodge the cut of those feather blades, he made good on his threat: Uryuu's feet hit the ground as his finger looped into the swordlike-arrow, lit with the chainsaw of reishi.
It cut through the steel, and Uryuu shook his head as he leaped off the ground, the quickening allowed by his hirenkyaku intended to do just what he had at that time: cut into the feather made useless by his weapon.
Would she remove them again? He steeled himself against it, shut out the equivalence of a lost limb: the coyote in the trap.
The exact same fucking act, right? Last minute veer to the right, there's his right side dodge, and she looped, the noise the wind made as it whistled through the bone structure of her release was too high-pitched for most comfort. Again, and her other wing span, the other blades. Had to time this right.
Flexed and let fly, four blades in his direction, to each side, slightly above, slightly below. Trap him, that was the goal, trap him, with having to stall time to get him to cut those blades, a moment pause all she needed, because-
What the hell was she doing, struggling so hard to win a battle she knew she could never-
Because the maw at the end of her tail snapped open and hissed, reiatsu leaking, as she twined tail to face him, the space between blades, and let loose the cero of a former Espada, a column of light that burned all within it, building and living alike.
The same, and Uryuu should have known, no, did know better than to think her so mad. That she had done nothing as of yet with her tail had not escaped him, and as four blades whipped toward him, guiding the instinctive path of his feet, his eyes widened just so. A trap, of course - and he could read what would come as clear as the changing stars in the night sky.
Shit, but he didn't have the time to hiss it. Knowing he could not cut away all five attack. Uryuu stopped abruptly, as if to wait for them to come at him, to become the sitting duck, the caged rat. Only, when Uryuu stopped, he released the spirit beneath him, and began to plummet. He swung the ever-revolving arrow at the blade coming from beneath first, then spun it on his finger, striking for the following of one, two - but not quite fast enough for all four. Positioning the bow, it began to deflect the steel sharp feather.
But the bow was not a shield. Uryuu choked back the scream as the particles dispersed and the spinning edge cut into his shoulder. Urging his hand down nonetheless, he grasped at a gintou and tossed it down -- "Tilt the goblet to the west - Emerald Grail!"
The ground below him erupted; Uryuu landed hard in the rising smoke of concrete and debris.
"Won't scream for me, Shiro-Megane-Kun!?" Oh, she would scream, following her blades path down, forever pursuing, dogging his every step like the mad woman, mad monster, that she was. Her reiatsu blazing, she called the remaining intact blades back to her wing span, the sound of them returning to place shrieking out in the wind, bone against metal like nails on a chalkboard.
"Let's change that!" Keen eyes, hunter's eyes, found him in the smoke, and she dove down, wings back and feathers whistling, her talons leading the charge, sharpened claws reaching for his body, so easy, it would be a perfect fit, his delicate body, physically so much weaker than she, between her vice like grip.
Blood flowed warm down his arm, steady but not heavy. Landing well, it still strained his ankles, the ground not having behaved quite as desired when hit by volcore. Uryuu moved, the pressure of her reiatsu forcing him along as the destruction had given him no brief cover; a flash-step of hirenkyaku took him a block down, and another into the air, spirit spreading thick underneath him even as the bow arced vibrantly out again.
Spinning to face her, her approaching onslaught, his eyes watched the remaining blades with their inferior reishi vibration, and Uryuu took aim with the Seele Schneider.
Her eyes knew that angle. Straight ahead, and looking down the flight of his arrow.
"Shit," hissed out, she had time for it, and to avoid the inevitable, the firing of that arrow, the one she wanted to avoid, the Arrancar veered so sharply that her wings caught a backdraft and she spiraled, struggled for control of her sonido path, before she slammed straight in to the small building housing the stairs' entrance to the roof of building five.
Wings curled in and blocked most of the collision, but the small structure collapsed, but her with no time to dawdle there. Eyes fell to her arms, the two remaining feathers. A swallow, heavy and visible in her throat, with sweat moving down and across her collarbone, the Thunderwitch moved, a heavy plod of a step, and her shoulders popped, loosened, and she paused.
One more step, and she-
Vision between them clouded by the smoke of her impromptu crash landing, the Thunderwitch still saw him. Felt him. Teeth grit, and rage boiled within her.
"I'LL KILL YOU-" Screamed, at the top of her lungs. "I SWEAR, SHIRO-MEGANE-KUN." She wrested forward, and her boned arms, talons, wings, and bladed shoulders, fell behind her with a loud, heavy, crash.
"EVEN IF IT KILLS ME!" And then she was flying straight at him, the blade of reiatsu vibrating in to existence from her tail, eyes wide with rage, and not a little bit of fear.
Premature: he had not even wasted the arrow when she crashed. The sound was near deafening; Uryuu did not cringe, warded off the concern as to whether or not there might have been people in there. It wasn't his problem, his fault - only hers.
His eyes, though good, lacked her avian keenness - but his awareness of reiatsu remained as strong as ever, and Uryuu knew her position within the settling rock dust. Readjusting his aim, Uryuu prepared the shot, hesitating only at the sight of her wild emergence, so much of her removed, limbs severed, the pain and desperation he could only imagine.
At the time they had first fought, the pillars of her domain towering far above him, Uryuu had known that she was psychotic. It was different now, at this time: then, though insane, she had been in control. The decision to rip off her wings had then been a choice made of brutal practicality. Now? Uryuu looked at her, unmoved by her manic shout, his eyes calm, unreadable, almost painted behind his lenses. But he had no use for pity.
"And it will," he answered in quiet, firing.
Hated it, that view. That arrow. But he was in her sights, and in her manic need for victory, her manic need to be manic for victory, in order to squash the gnawing knowledge of her own weakness within her, she cared not for it. For pain. For destruction. Her coy lips had twisted in to the cry of a beast, she was a beast, a heartless, insane, beast, and even more so like this, in the heat of battle she had to destroy herself to win- to win-
It was only a flicker of hesitation, decision, before she veered the few bit of direction she could, her tail, and the reiatsu discharge, coming between her and that arrow. A lance of pain, blinding, the pain, and the arrow ripped a clean cut through her reiatsu with only the slightest slowing or veering in it's course, before continuing to slice through the more substantial tail herself.
Sacrifice more of yourself. A good portion of the appendage, the maw, from which her reiatsu channeled, lashed once, weakly, before it was cut from her body in a wet sound, a sacrifice that allowed her the small change in course to avoid an arrow to her saketsu chain, the heat of it passing by her side now so close it left a burn.
But her path, now trailing thick loops of blood, continued, and she felt a satisfying, insane, grin grace her features before the petite woman, much stronger than she appeared and now driven by pain as well as hate, slammed in to the Quincy head on, bowling him back and into the roof behind him and scrambling, hands going for his throat to move from there, planned to pin, to stab, to cut his air-
Anything.
Uryuu watched, struggling to remain unmoved by the impact, the sound sickening and slick in his ear, staying in his throat. More important than the rush of pity and revulsion (and war was ugly, and battle putrid, but this he had known since sensei had writhed beneath the Hollow claws and died, and died, and died, and his crumpled body waited and batted by the beasts until the Shinigami finally, finally -) was that she was still moving.
Had he hesitated, struck by memory, weakened by his own youth? Had it been fast, her stronger; but the second arrow never fired, his mouth never finished opening on the word Fuck, when she hit.
Air rushed past from behind, blowing his hair into his face, Uryuu forcing the bow to remain as a jagged barrier between them; his other hand clutching hard to keep the arrow in his grasp; but as a result he could no nothing (as if he could) to buffer their fall to the roof. The impact of it knocked the wind from him, but he, they continued to skid some feet; Uryuu felt and heard his uniform ripping against the rough stone.
Her breath came hard, panting and the tinge of red in her mouth too dark to be tongue or gums, blood welling, had she bitten her tongue? A wet trail of heavy blood followed their path to rest, if you called it rest, to a stop in skidding and movement. Her tail still moved, it was thrashing wild, unable to be controlled in the pained state of it all, a heavy, unstable, thunk thunk slamming in to rock, beating patterns in to the concrete beneath and only aggravating.
"Shiro-" A wild breath, and her small hands reached for his throat, savage light in her eyes.
"Ishida-" Lips split wide and the blood spilled out in the motion, dripping on to his white uniform, no longer pristine. Pure? Nails scrambled, legs moved to pin, closing in for her kill, she deserved this, she was this- It was in her grasp.
And his shoulder had slammed into the roof, dragging his own streak of blood with the tatters of stained uniform; it had hurt so much that for half of a minute Uryuu saw only red. She called him back: the red oozing, dripping from her mouth, his name painted in her blood.
When he tried to intercept her hands with her bow, Uryuu realized with a short of pain that his arm wouldn't respond to his urging, and the bow had dissolved in the meantime. Her fingers were hot, her nails sharp, as her hands closed around his neck.
With a grimace, Uryuu savored his breath, focusing on calm, on suppressing panic to manipulate the reishi in the air, to attach strings of spirit particles to his arm and guide it, all too probably shattered and gouged shoulder and all, up, to force his hand against her shoulder, shove her back - not enough to free his throat, but to give him the room for this:
His left hand gripped the Seele Schneider, a Quincy arrow in the shape of a sword, and twisted. Uryuu narrowed his blue eyes, everything becoming smaller, darker, more constricted as he needed to breathe but left his lips white, thin, tight together - focused in on the spot in her chest -
Uryuu jerked up his hand and thrust the spirit blade into her.
Most people, upon being stabbed, instinctively jerked their heads, to look down in shock at their wounds. And while her eyes abruptly widened, iris near vanishing in the bloodshot lilac, her lips fell open, and forlorn, a drop of blood trailed down her lips, her head did not move, and her gaze did not break. His face, she kept her eyes on his face, snarling out some indistinguishable word, hands spasming weakly.
Slowly, it seemed slowly to the eye, her bone mask began to dissolve. Bits and pieces rained down on him, and her power cut off. A fountain dammed, a faucet shut off.
And the piping destroyed so it could never be turned on again.
It hurt, she was aware of that. Tears almost beaded in her eyes, almost, just a flicker of moisture. All the strength drained from her in one instant, and she was no Arrancar, she was pathetic, a woman, five foot little and no strength in her compared to most any other person, weak without the powers that made her what she was. Was previously. Had been.
Her lips finally firmed, licked bottom nervously, swallowed heavy. Her eyes finally moved to the bone mask fragments strewn across his chest.
Small, delicate hands, still on his throat.
Still trying, oh so pitifully, to dig in.
Uryuu could not look away.
(Then, and how long ago had it been? Then, he had observed her fall, the aftermath of the piercing, had stared down at her and let her live. This was different, this was--)
After pinpointing the exact spot to bury his arrow, his eyes had slid to her face, where they fixated on hers, like magnetism. Every second felt like a minute, an hour, overdrawn, and every detail of her disintegration played out as the last act of a tragedy, too pathetic, too small, to even be Shakespearian. Ivory chips thudded dully onto his chest, one bouncing of his chin and catching in his hair.
With slow, purposeful movements, Uryuu moved his hands - one still manipulated and pushing with renewed vigor, now bolstered by the dizzy restriction of his vision; the other pulling her hands easily from his neck, her fingers smearing the blood her nails had pricked out.
Once free, he pushed her off of him with little consideration; only to allow him to roll over onto his good shoulder and gasp, choking and coughing and burning, for air.
... That was it, wasn't it. Anything more... now that would just be pathetic. Any further attempt, and she would be pathetic. A harsh, too bitter laugh, more like a sob, she supposed, ripped out of he throat, as she was pushed away.
Pushed. That little Quincy... not even that strong, compared to others of his species, when it came to brawn, and he just pushed her off. Helpless, she felt so helpless, so weak, so... she looked at him, stricken, and felt no spirit energy. Looked up, stricken, and could not pinpoint the location of shinigami. Looked down, stricken, to her own hands, shaking, before they pressed to her breast, breath heaving, in panic, the panic of her situation, more than in effort. Her body felt heavy. She felt human. Mortal, she-
"... the end." Her smile was too thin. Everything about her was too something in this moment. Too tragic. Too disgusting. Too beautiful. Too sad. The phrases sounded like a story. No happily ever after.
One hand found its way to her hair, and bloody fingernails searched softly for her bone mask.
By his own choking, the harsh, gritty sounds of his sucking in oxygen, Uryuu was spared the sight of her expression, of her realization of all that she had lost. He could hear it, dimly, that laugh resonating like an underwater echo as his lungs filled and his head swam, and as everything slowly clarified and his breathing regulated, the sound of her inhale before the words.
Uryuu looked at her, a brief glance he strove to make dismissive, before he crawled to his knees. Once there, his steady palm pushed flat against the roof, helping him to stand; his right arm hung useless at his side, its shoulder a mess of blood, scraps of cloth, even rent flesh. Tiny trickles of blood left queer spots in the neck of his tunic.
The end, she had said. His attention now, the duration of his stare, last longer. What he could have said, what might have been read in his eyes, the expression in the set of his mouth - but all that came:
"... und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind, dann leben sie noch heute."
And Ishida Uryuu turned his back, and walked away.
What followed the Quicy's bloody back was the growing sound of the Privaron's laughter.
She'd spited all of them, hadn't she? Fuck Aizen, for abandoning her. She'd abandon him, finally, forever. Abandon him, and the five still scarring her breast. Szayel Aporro- Now she'd never make it to his lab, let her deny him her pain, her torture- Deny the Exequies Squad their duty, remove herself from the taunts of Espada, from the jeers of Numeros, from-
From-
Her fingers couldn't find her bone mask until the picked up a bone shard off the bloody concrete. It was gone. Her power was gone. Her pride was gone, her strength was gone, her existance...
Her laughter slowly died to dry sobs, falling back and staring up at the sun, all seeing sun, fist curled so tight around bone that she cut her hand and blood slicked her palm.
Her existance was gone, too.
Rating; R for gore - ALSO TL;DR BUT YOU LOVE IT HOKAI
Characters; Cirucci Thunderwitch {
thunderwitch} & Ishida Uryuu {anti_buttons}Summary; '...and if they haven't died yet, they are still living today.'
Log;
It was time.
There was no way to tell, it's not like the Arrancar kept a clock, nor did she keep track of days, or months, or even years. She was beyond these things, beyond concepts of time and waiting simply because of what she'd made herself in to. But she still knew it was time.
Farewell, she wondered, what that was. Confidently, outward, at least, she left, she walked, even. Didn't run, she walked. Reiatsu blaring, clearing announcing her intent, she only broke in to sonido the last leg, the reverb of the movement following close on her heels before the roof of the Quincy's apartment building.
It was a nice day, she mused. Golondrina shone in the daylight, that bright, overreaching sun that reminded her of Hueco Mundo. She'd never see it again, because the moment she returned was the moment a Quincy's arrow pierced her chest. This moment.
"Shiro-Megane-Kun!" Shouted,and whip cracked, lips stretched wide in a laugh. "Time's up!"
The moment she let loose, Uryuu knew.
There had been little point to stewing for days in outright paranoia, in looking twice at shadows and staring a little too long at the sky when he walked from one place to another. He had not worn his uniform everywhere, no, had not lost any sleep. An easy, surface reason: it was cooler to maintain such composure. But in reality, it was the knowledge of her, his familiarity had had him suspecting her methodology. She would do it right.
He felt the explosion of her reiatsu, and recognizing it, Uryuu calmly stood from his chair. With precise, unhurried movements he put away his needlework and retired to his bedroom, so to change from casual slacks and a zip-up shirt to his uniform, to don the tools of the Quincy. White cloth fell against him, fringed in blue, laying over the belt of schneiders and gintou, the pendant felt cool against his palm as he walked. He would do it right.
As she shouted, he climbed the last step of the staircase to the roof. The door swung open and he gazed up, hand moving to adjust his glasses and shield his eyes from the sun.
"You want to do it here?" He asked, cool and appraising. "... No matter. I won't let anyone else get hurt."
"Right on time~" A pretty little croon, the sharp tone hidden beneath the words obvious to him, who probably heard that more than anything. "I knew my Shiro-Megane-Kun wouldn't be late."
Of course he wouldn't. This was his opportunity to be rid of her forever, and who wouldn't pass up the opportunity to be rid of the noisome Cirucci Thunderwitch. She'd set all of this up. Year... over a year, almost a half? She couldn't remember. But she'd been around too long, been rotting in this hell of a City for too long, and she was tired. Just end it. It would end like that no matter what she did, and how disgusting... how utterly lacking pride, to struggle against that. Just face it. No turning around.
"Will you?~" Golondrina spun. "It must be hard to fight concerned with so many people."
His fingertips slid against the bridge of his nose, pushing at the rim of his spectacles. She came to focus, distorted by the light behind her.
"It's rude to keep a woman waiting," he noted, the smirk in his voice if not on his face. A familiar turn of words, though words weren't what he intended to exchange. When his eyes had adjusted, his hand fell, though not to rest at his side.
"Against you? Not at all."
Uryuu hadn't finished the last word before the bow materialized, flaring in its explosion of concentrated reishi. He knew better than to expect his first volley of shots to hit, but they were not for warning: he aimed, to so speak, to kill.
Of course they wouldn't hit. She wasn't that kind of girl, mm?
"Rude to keep me waiting?" Laughed, as she dodged, quick to the left, "But not to insult my prowess?!" To the right, and she lashed out in return, the disk of gold whipping out before he as she leapt in to sonido, rushing head.
This was it. For a second she could have guess time slowed down, but then her eyes focused on the disk that was leading her charge, on the spinning blade.
Golondrina. Herself, form sealed in blade. Death.
For her.
"Is it an insult if it's true?" asked, Uryuu wasting no time in watching the energy strike into the sky, his eyes fixed only on her. For once, she had earned, could claim his complete attention.
Lord his superiority all he might, emphasize with arrogance his strength, but Uryuu knew better than to underestimate her - someone like the Thunderwitch, the coyote chewing off her arms for one last strike. This wasn't the last, no, only the beginning of what would finish it, and Uryuu gathered the energy beneath his feet, picking up a speed to match hers (despite his claim of it being an improvement), the enormity of his web-like bow maneuvered to buffer the blow, to shield against it, his arm curved behind it as his fingers dipped for the silver tubes of his reiatsu.
Earned it, she had earned it. She said to herself, of course.
"We've done this already, Shiro-Megane-Kun!" She shrieked over the squeal of her blade spinning against the Quincy's reiatsu, recalling this exact moment replayed in her mind. This exact time, this exact word-
"That isn't a shield, you know!" Whipped back, nails curling over the hilt before whipping the blade back at him.
Deja vu did not disorient him. This was a memory; the peal of her voice, the way it reverberated unpleasantly on his eardrumbs. This was a memory; that phrase, word for word. Memory would let him be comfortable, overconfident, and that was dangerous - he had the longest reach, of course, but to underestimate.
"Then let's make it interesting," he said, teeth gritted to prepare for the blow as he launched toward her, almost into the path of the blade, the impact of it against his bow as he aimed for deflection hard enough, jarring back hard enough against his arm that he knew he'd need to be more careful - it might dislocate.
As he moved, sped by particles, his hand closed on and flicked out the gintou, mouth moving over the words for haizen: "Feel the wrath of battle and accept this sacred chalice - Sacred Bite!"
"Let's!" The feel of the blade connecting was something that resonated in her, and putting aside the memories was distracting, hard enough as is. Cirucci was the type, despite denial, to dwell in the past. She was happier there, after all, in the memories of her now tattered glory, her forgotten rank, and her battered pride.
Those gintou, they defied her last memory of their fight in Tres Cifras, jolting her out of replay to yank her blade back, boots ground in to concrete, and she jerked her body back, leaping in to sonido barely quick enough to avoid the radius of his reiatsu.
"Nice start!" Her own in return, twisting as she still moved, free hand extending to push a bala of her own energy back at the Quincy in retaliation.
No use in thanking her, in wasting the time, in determining the appropriate verbal retorts. (No use, which didn't mean Uryu would be actually able to keep himself from it). He would, however, offer a thin smile, certainly not stationary; though a disruption from the nostalgic return, her bala was easily enough dodged.
It was enough to find a difference. If then, the longest reach had determined the outcome, would it continue to? Both were aware of the full extent of the others abilities; though Uryuu had not gone all out the weapon that had defeated her had been something he'd intended to reserve, and if it would bring him victory now, he would need to plan.
"Well," he began, not pausing as he did, firing, experimentally aiming to her left side, as if to goad her into dodging right, "Will you release? You might have a better chance."
She might have indulged, feinting to the right, but instead dropped, one palm hit the rooftop, other arm lancing out to lend Golondrina once again to the charge.
"You haven't earned it yet, Shiro-Megane-Kun!" She crowed, smirking broad. "Where's your white ant? And his sticky weapon, hmm?" A laugh, at the memory of that stupid, stupid white ant, and his stupid act. Disgusting.
Utterly disgusting.
Another bala, keep him occupied. Like she was.
No, such obvious maneuvering would never work on her; Uyruu had not expected it, but could not pass up the experiment. Any real attempt would need to be far more fine-tuned; as it was, he had to prevent himself from admiring her agility, a task easily enough accomplished as he was again on the move. Like before: though both were diminished by the City, once again he found himself on the offensive.
It would be rude to rush this - but not merely that, it would be careless. Though Uryuu had full confidence in his ability to bring her to her knees, to defeat her without doubt, he could not let the seeming absolute of that dictate him. In pride, even well-founded and indubitable, the largest flaws laid: this city had forced him to see it (to deny it vocally but know). She lived it.
Running, Uryuu was forced into a spot of awkward acrobatics himself, almost dashing clear off the roof but for a sweeping, near-sprawling crouch that crashed his heel against the roof-edge; but the balo soared past him, fringing the tips of a bang.
While still low, he fired, concentrating the reishi into a surplus of arrows - as many as she would allow him before the next close call? No, for as his fingers drew on the air's energy, he sprang from the ground, simultaneously prompting hirenkyaku to carry him into the air, over the edge.
Golondrina whirled, and the Quincy evaded. A quick pull of her fingers, the familiar burn of the wires racing through an experienced grip, and her blade returned to her in time to block the neon reiatsu, scattering the blue hue over the her vision as Ishida gathered his own spiritual energy, enhancing his own mobility.
"Let's race, Shiro-Megane-Kun." Golondrina was too comfortable in her hand, too familiar. A beautiful, whole, presence. Herself. Her true, true, form. Let it be like that, then. Let it be like that, how it was. Or it wouldn't be right.
"KAKKIRE!" Shouted, that one word more clear than anything she'd said yet, and she sprung after the Quincy in a boiling rage and shuddering burst of reiatsu and rubble, demolishing a portion of the buildings' roof as she went, bone materializing around her form as she took that all too familiar silhouette.
Her voice reached him first, then the new intensity of her spirit pressure. Despite the concentrated platform, an easy enough task, Uryuu did not aim for another roof. She would always have the advantage due to the shape of her form in flight, and he would always be looking up. Though the platform, maintaining a position above the ground, was possible, it wasn't something that would necessarily provide the advantage here.
No, aside from the stone now showering thundering to the ground, deja vu had again lifted the hair on his neck.
Uryuu turned in the air, his bow maintained shieldlike in front of him as he reached down. Fingers brushed path the cloth of his tunic to display the Seele Schneiders against his legs. "Do you see what I see?" He asked. "Or should I repeat myself?"
"All I see-" Reckless, it seemed, rushing at him and closing in, like a bullet, straight and true, the bone fully formed and feathers spread out behind her, tail beginning to snap and snarl, viscous fluid leaking from the maw there as she charged a cero, the white appendage snaking out behind her.
"Is a Quincy ready to die!" Her voice ripped through the wind, and then wings readied and fired, steel feathers flying towards him with the whoosh of displaced air behind them.
No admiration of the grotesque majesty. With his hirenkyaku, her speed was no problem, nor was her weapon: the issue was what it had been, and Uryuu no longer needed to run, to escape, to be sure of it. Rather than dodge the cut of those feather blades, he made good on his threat: Uryuu's feet hit the ground as his finger looped into the swordlike-arrow, lit with the chainsaw of reishi.
It cut through the steel, and Uryuu shook his head as he leaped off the ground, the quickening allowed by his hirenkyaku intended to do just what he had at that time: cut into the feather made useless by his weapon.
Would she remove them again? He steeled himself against it, shut out the equivalence of a lost limb: the coyote in the trap.
The exact same fucking act, right? Last minute veer to the right, there's his right side dodge, and she looped, the noise the wind made as it whistled through the bone structure of her release was too high-pitched for most comfort. Again, and her other wing span, the other blades. Had to time this right.
Flexed and let fly, four blades in his direction, to each side, slightly above, slightly below. Trap him, that was the goal, trap him, with having to stall time to get him to cut those blades, a moment pause all she needed, because-
What the hell was she doing, struggling so hard to win a battle she knew she could never-
Because the maw at the end of her tail snapped open and hissed, reiatsu leaking, as she twined tail to face him, the space between blades, and let loose the cero of a former Espada, a column of light that burned all within it, building and living alike.
The same, and Uryuu should have known, no, did know better than to think her so mad. That she had done nothing as of yet with her tail had not escaped him, and as four blades whipped toward him, guiding the instinctive path of his feet, his eyes widened just so. A trap, of course - and he could read what would come as clear as the changing stars in the night sky.
Shit, but he didn't have the time to hiss it. Knowing he could not cut away all five attack. Uryuu stopped abruptly, as if to wait for them to come at him, to become the sitting duck, the caged rat. Only, when Uryuu stopped, he released the spirit beneath him, and began to plummet. He swung the ever-revolving arrow at the blade coming from beneath first, then spun it on his finger, striking for the following of one, two - but not quite fast enough for all four. Positioning the bow, it began to deflect the steel sharp feather.
But the bow was not a shield. Uryuu choked back the scream as the particles dispersed and the spinning edge cut into his shoulder. Urging his hand down nonetheless, he grasped at a gintou and tossed it down -- "Tilt the goblet to the west - Emerald Grail!"
The ground below him erupted; Uryuu landed hard in the rising smoke of concrete and debris.
"Won't scream for me, Shiro-Megane-Kun!?" Oh, she would scream, following her blades path down, forever pursuing, dogging his every step like the mad woman, mad monster, that she was. Her reiatsu blazing, she called the remaining intact blades back to her wing span, the sound of them returning to place shrieking out in the wind, bone against metal like nails on a chalkboard.
"Let's change that!" Keen eyes, hunter's eyes, found him in the smoke, and she dove down, wings back and feathers whistling, her talons leading the charge, sharpened claws reaching for his body, so easy, it would be a perfect fit, his delicate body, physically so much weaker than she, between her vice like grip.
Blood flowed warm down his arm, steady but not heavy. Landing well, it still strained his ankles, the ground not having behaved quite as desired when hit by volcore. Uryuu moved, the pressure of her reiatsu forcing him along as the destruction had given him no brief cover; a flash-step of hirenkyaku took him a block down, and another into the air, spirit spreading thick underneath him even as the bow arced vibrantly out again.
Spinning to face her, her approaching onslaught, his eyes watched the remaining blades with their inferior reishi vibration, and Uryuu took aim with the Seele Schneider.
Her eyes knew that angle. Straight ahead, and looking down the flight of his arrow.
"Shit," hissed out, she had time for it, and to avoid the inevitable, the firing of that arrow, the one she wanted to avoid, the Arrancar veered so sharply that her wings caught a backdraft and she spiraled, struggled for control of her sonido path, before she slammed straight in to the small building housing the stairs' entrance to the roof of building five.
Wings curled in and blocked most of the collision, but the small structure collapsed, but her with no time to dawdle there. Eyes fell to her arms, the two remaining feathers. A swallow, heavy and visible in her throat, with sweat moving down and across her collarbone, the Thunderwitch moved, a heavy plod of a step, and her shoulders popped, loosened, and she paused.
One more step, and she-
Vision between them clouded by the smoke of her impromptu crash landing, the Thunderwitch still saw him. Felt him. Teeth grit, and rage boiled within her.
"I'LL KILL YOU-" Screamed, at the top of her lungs. "I SWEAR, SHIRO-MEGANE-KUN." She wrested forward, and her boned arms, talons, wings, and bladed shoulders, fell behind her with a loud, heavy, crash.
"EVEN IF IT KILLS ME!" And then she was flying straight at him, the blade of reiatsu vibrating in to existence from her tail, eyes wide with rage, and not a little bit of fear.
Premature: he had not even wasted the arrow when she crashed. The sound was near deafening; Uryuu did not cringe, warded off the concern as to whether or not there might have been people in there. It wasn't his problem, his fault - only hers.
His eyes, though good, lacked her avian keenness - but his awareness of reiatsu remained as strong as ever, and Uryuu knew her position within the settling rock dust. Readjusting his aim, Uryuu prepared the shot, hesitating only at the sight of her wild emergence, so much of her removed, limbs severed, the pain and desperation he could only imagine.
At the time they had first fought, the pillars of her domain towering far above him, Uryuu had known that she was psychotic. It was different now, at this time: then, though insane, she had been in control. The decision to rip off her wings had then been a choice made of brutal practicality. Now? Uryuu looked at her, unmoved by her manic shout, his eyes calm, unreadable, almost painted behind his lenses. But he had no use for pity.
"And it will," he answered in quiet, firing.
Hated it, that view. That arrow. But he was in her sights, and in her manic need for victory, her manic need to be manic for victory, in order to squash the gnawing knowledge of her own weakness within her, she cared not for it. For pain. For destruction. Her coy lips had twisted in to the cry of a beast, she was a beast, a heartless, insane, beast, and even more so like this, in the heat of battle she had to destroy herself to win- to win-
It was only a flicker of hesitation, decision, before she veered the few bit of direction she could, her tail, and the reiatsu discharge, coming between her and that arrow. A lance of pain, blinding, the pain, and the arrow ripped a clean cut through her reiatsu with only the slightest slowing or veering in it's course, before continuing to slice through the more substantial tail herself.
Sacrifice more of yourself. A good portion of the appendage, the maw, from which her reiatsu channeled, lashed once, weakly, before it was cut from her body in a wet sound, a sacrifice that allowed her the small change in course to avoid an arrow to her saketsu chain, the heat of it passing by her side now so close it left a burn.
But her path, now trailing thick loops of blood, continued, and she felt a satisfying, insane, grin grace her features before the petite woman, much stronger than she appeared and now driven by pain as well as hate, slammed in to the Quincy head on, bowling him back and into the roof behind him and scrambling, hands going for his throat to move from there, planned to pin, to stab, to cut his air-
Anything.
Uryuu watched, struggling to remain unmoved by the impact, the sound sickening and slick in his ear, staying in his throat. More important than the rush of pity and revulsion (and war was ugly, and battle putrid, but this he had known since sensei had writhed beneath the Hollow claws and died, and died, and died, and his crumpled body waited and batted by the beasts until the Shinigami finally, finally -) was that she was still moving.
Had he hesitated, struck by memory, weakened by his own youth? Had it been fast, her stronger; but the second arrow never fired, his mouth never finished opening on the word Fuck, when she hit.
Air rushed past from behind, blowing his hair into his face, Uryuu forcing the bow to remain as a jagged barrier between them; his other hand clutching hard to keep the arrow in his grasp; but as a result he could no nothing (as if he could) to buffer their fall to the roof. The impact of it knocked the wind from him, but he, they continued to skid some feet; Uryuu felt and heard his uniform ripping against the rough stone.
Her breath came hard, panting and the tinge of red in her mouth too dark to be tongue or gums, blood welling, had she bitten her tongue? A wet trail of heavy blood followed their path to rest, if you called it rest, to a stop in skidding and movement. Her tail still moved, it was thrashing wild, unable to be controlled in the pained state of it all, a heavy, unstable, thunk thunk slamming in to rock, beating patterns in to the concrete beneath and only aggravating.
"Shiro-" A wild breath, and her small hands reached for his throat, savage light in her eyes.
"Ishida-" Lips split wide and the blood spilled out in the motion, dripping on to his white uniform, no longer pristine. Pure? Nails scrambled, legs moved to pin, closing in for her kill, she deserved this, she was this- It was in her grasp.
And his shoulder had slammed into the roof, dragging his own streak of blood with the tatters of stained uniform; it had hurt so much that for half of a minute Uryuu saw only red. She called him back: the red oozing, dripping from her mouth, his name painted in her blood.
When he tried to intercept her hands with her bow, Uryuu realized with a short of pain that his arm wouldn't respond to his urging, and the bow had dissolved in the meantime. Her fingers were hot, her nails sharp, as her hands closed around his neck.
With a grimace, Uryuu savored his breath, focusing on calm, on suppressing panic to manipulate the reishi in the air, to attach strings of spirit particles to his arm and guide it, all too probably shattered and gouged shoulder and all, up, to force his hand against her shoulder, shove her back - not enough to free his throat, but to give him the room for this:
His left hand gripped the Seele Schneider, a Quincy arrow in the shape of a sword, and twisted. Uryuu narrowed his blue eyes, everything becoming smaller, darker, more constricted as he needed to breathe but left his lips white, thin, tight together - focused in on the spot in her chest -
Uryuu jerked up his hand and thrust the spirit blade into her.
Most people, upon being stabbed, instinctively jerked their heads, to look down in shock at their wounds. And while her eyes abruptly widened, iris near vanishing in the bloodshot lilac, her lips fell open, and forlorn, a drop of blood trailed down her lips, her head did not move, and her gaze did not break. His face, she kept her eyes on his face, snarling out some indistinguishable word, hands spasming weakly.
Slowly, it seemed slowly to the eye, her bone mask began to dissolve. Bits and pieces rained down on him, and her power cut off. A fountain dammed, a faucet shut off.
And the piping destroyed so it could never be turned on again.
It hurt, she was aware of that. Tears almost beaded in her eyes, almost, just a flicker of moisture. All the strength drained from her in one instant, and she was no Arrancar, she was pathetic, a woman, five foot little and no strength in her compared to most any other person, weak without the powers that made her what she was. Was previously. Had been.
Her lips finally firmed, licked bottom nervously, swallowed heavy. Her eyes finally moved to the bone mask fragments strewn across his chest.
Small, delicate hands, still on his throat.
Still trying, oh so pitifully, to dig in.
Uryuu could not look away.
(Then, and how long ago had it been? Then, he had observed her fall, the aftermath of the piercing, had stared down at her and let her live. This was different, this was--)
After pinpointing the exact spot to bury his arrow, his eyes had slid to her face, where they fixated on hers, like magnetism. Every second felt like a minute, an hour, overdrawn, and every detail of her disintegration played out as the last act of a tragedy, too pathetic, too small, to even be Shakespearian. Ivory chips thudded dully onto his chest, one bouncing of his chin and catching in his hair.
With slow, purposeful movements, Uryuu moved his hands - one still manipulated and pushing with renewed vigor, now bolstered by the dizzy restriction of his vision; the other pulling her hands easily from his neck, her fingers smearing the blood her nails had pricked out.
Once free, he pushed her off of him with little consideration; only to allow him to roll over onto his good shoulder and gasp, choking and coughing and burning, for air.
... That was it, wasn't it. Anything more... now that would just be pathetic. Any further attempt, and she would be pathetic. A harsh, too bitter laugh, more like a sob, she supposed, ripped out of he throat, as she was pushed away.
Pushed. That little Quincy... not even that strong, compared to others of his species, when it came to brawn, and he just pushed her off. Helpless, she felt so helpless, so weak, so... she looked at him, stricken, and felt no spirit energy. Looked up, stricken, and could not pinpoint the location of shinigami. Looked down, stricken, to her own hands, shaking, before they pressed to her breast, breath heaving, in panic, the panic of her situation, more than in effort. Her body felt heavy. She felt human. Mortal, she-
"... the end." Her smile was too thin. Everything about her was too something in this moment. Too tragic. Too disgusting. Too beautiful. Too sad. The phrases sounded like a story. No happily ever after.
One hand found its way to her hair, and bloody fingernails searched softly for her bone mask.
By his own choking, the harsh, gritty sounds of his sucking in oxygen, Uryuu was spared the sight of her expression, of her realization of all that she had lost. He could hear it, dimly, that laugh resonating like an underwater echo as his lungs filled and his head swam, and as everything slowly clarified and his breathing regulated, the sound of her inhale before the words.
Uryuu looked at her, a brief glance he strove to make dismissive, before he crawled to his knees. Once there, his steady palm pushed flat against the roof, helping him to stand; his right arm hung useless at his side, its shoulder a mess of blood, scraps of cloth, even rent flesh. Tiny trickles of blood left queer spots in the neck of his tunic.
The end, she had said. His attention now, the duration of his stare, last longer. What he could have said, what might have been read in his eyes, the expression in the set of his mouth - but all that came:
"... und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind, dann leben sie noch heute."
And Ishida Uryuu turned his back, and walked away.
What followed the Quicy's bloody back was the growing sound of the Privaron's laughter.
She'd spited all of them, hadn't she? Fuck Aizen, for abandoning her. She'd abandon him, finally, forever. Abandon him, and the five still scarring her breast. Szayel Aporro- Now she'd never make it to his lab, let her deny him her pain, her torture- Deny the Exequies Squad their duty, remove herself from the taunts of Espada, from the jeers of Numeros, from-
From-
Her fingers couldn't find her bone mask until the picked up a bone shard off the bloody concrete. It was gone. Her power was gone. Her pride was gone, her strength was gone, her existance...
Her laughter slowly died to dry sobs, falling back and staring up at the sun, all seeing sun, fist curled so tight around bone that she cut her hand and blood slicked her palm.
Her existance was gone, too.