Their Smiles [PG13, NDE, Semi-Social, Hard]

[Zou ۞]

The dark skinned man turned around to regard Miho Shoga with a look of utmost contempt, as if he was looking down on her. His black eyebrow was raised. Certainly, his hair had been longer, and was now trimmed from what had been a mane to what was now something far more similar to the Segunda Espada's haircut. It was done in layers, though gelled into a sort of spiked ending all around his head. While the hair and outfit were different, the condescending gaze and the terse attitude were very much the same, and there was no way that the face could be mistaken. No, this could not be anyone but Nijuu Tentei, formerly the second most powerful out of the Segunda Espada's prime Fraccion. He was alive. Not only was he alive, but he was well. He looked healthier than he had before, and he had already been in top shape originally. He looked more toned as well.

"Agggghhhhh?" he asked questioningly, making a quizzical sound at Miho. The look in his eyes seemed to say that he did not recognize her. That voice and that face were definitely Nijuu Tentei's, though. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked her coldly. His haughty demeanor was typical of him, and he held his head high. His chin pointed down at Miho's head like a spear. He continued looking down on her like an insect for a few moments, before at last recognition dawned in his eyes, which softened for once, and he grinned. "I'm just fucking with you, I know who you are! HEY, SCUM, HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Nijuu grabbed a hold of Miho and hugged her tightly. He had always been a man of incredible physical strength, and the painful cracking sensation which would rocket through Miho's back indicated that his strength had not dulled.

Miho's first question after that was one that Nijuu scoffed at. He actually scoffed at her when she asked it! It was as if it was such old news that it should no longer be emotionally impacting. It was trivial. She was simply out of the loop. "Eh? Those guys? Those guys're dead, scum." Nijuu told Miho when she inquired about Kouen and Chisoku. If Marcelius at any point ended up paying attention to Nijuu's thoughts, he would be able to discern the same memories which Kuroi had of Chisoku's death. However, unlike Kuroi, Nijuu was able to suppress all related emotions. What Marcelius would feel was not a void. It was a fire. Nijuu seemed to perpetually be angry. Perhaps he was. However, so great was the fire of his rage that no other emotions he might feel could be detected.

Miho, after whatever puzzling she did about Nijuu's words, ended up asking her next question. To this, Nijuu furrowed his brow. He was extremely confused on the matter. The very first thing that slipped out of his mouth came only a second after Miho asked the question. "The fuck is a Desgarron?" he asked her. Nijuu clearly had no idea what a Desgarron even was. If Marcelius were to evaluate Nijuu's emotions and mind, he would find that in fact, Nijuu was telling the truth here. He had no idea who or what Desgarron even was. The coffee guy had slipped away at some point, but now he returned to Nijuu, creeping up to timidly hand Nijuu a cup of coffee. Nijuu took a sip, and grinned. He slammed the coffee guy on the back. "SEE, SCUM? NOW THAT IS GOOD COFFEE!!!"

He accidentally knocked the coffee guy over by slapping him on his back, but at this point the blood covered coffee guy did not even seemed phased. He simply scampered off in a hurry so as not to further displease or please Nijuu in any way. It seemed that no matter which way things went, Nijuu was going to cause him some kind of pain. It also seemed strange that nobody had said anything about the broken window, or about Nijuu, and had returned to normal business. Perhaps Nijuu was a regular, well-known presence in this area. His grin suddenly lit up his face again as he once again regarded Miho. "HEY, SCUM..." he hissed at her. "WHERE THE FUCK YOU BEEN? YOU TURNED INTO SUCH A CRYBABY..."

Meanwhile, Kuroi stepped next to Marcelius while observing the exchange between Miho and Nijuu. Somewhere in Kuroi, though the void had been dominant in his soul, there was a flicker of relief, and an anxiety lifted from his chest. Kuroi was glad for Nijuu's life, and even more so for his ability to once again be cordial with Miho. The chemistry between the two as far as working together was enormous. Kuroi was relieved that Nijuu and Miho could not only still interact well, but that they were relieved to see one another. Splitting up the original group had not been an event which any of them took well to. Nijuu had been quite beat up when Miho disappeared, and Miho the same when Kuroi told her that Nijuu was dead.

However, Kuroi did not say anything to betray even a single one of these thoughts. No, Marcelius would simply have the ability to sense them in Kuroi. Externally, his composure did not flicker at all. He did not betray any of his emotions, and maintained that same calm exterior which he had always been capable of. Kuroi's physical demeanor was one which was always in total and absolute control. He always appeared calm, even when he was not. "What have you found, Marcelius?" Kuroi asked his newest subordinate in a cold, monotonous, business-like voice. He had always been cold and business-like to his other Fraccion too. They simply discovered that he cared for them along the way, as they got to know him better over more and more missions. Marcelius had the fortune of being privy to some of Kuroi's thoughts, which would betray his feelings on his subordinates early on.

In Kuroi's mind, however, resting in the recess of it, another thought played, one which might be worth questioning. It was strategy. Kuroi inside was going over strategy for encountering Kouen. Indeed, Kouen was a powerful Arrancar. While he was no match for Kuroi, his reiatsu strength had the ability to surpass Kuroi's and therefore negate the Segunda Espada's Hierro. Furthermore, Kouen was a brilliant strategist, and his Cero could also outmatch Kuroi's. Kouen had already been powerful enough to be an average Primera Espada when under Kuroi. Having had time to grow and become even more powerful using the underhanded ways of the Escudo, how much stronger could he have gotten?

[Deleted]

"Agggghhhhh?"

"Oh hell here we go.." Miho wore her infamous scowl. It was a normal thing for the girl to have such an expression on her face. Someone like Nijuu would know that it was her trademark scowl. She'd scanned him from head to toe. She had to give the idiot credit where it was due. He looked good. In the time he was away he'd somehow managed to look better and healthier. Regardless of how he looked, it still walked and talked like a raging dragon. For once, she was pretty fricken' glad. She folded her arms across her chest as she shifted her weight to one leg. She tapped her foot impatiently waiting for it to register.

"I'm just fucking with you, I know who you are! HEY, SCUM, HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Miho let out a sudden gasp of pain. He clearly still had the same strength. She tried to peel herself away but then she remembered...He's alive. She struggled to hug back. Not because she couldn't. She could muster something as simple as that. However, it was truly against her nature to. After a moment of hesitation, she briefly hugged him. Surely she was allowed a moment or something like that. "You idiot. Let me go." she spat angrily. Yeah, she definitely felt that cracking in her back. No bueno. But still, he remembered her and for that, relief washed over her. Miho truly was happy but she wasn't about to show it...Not a whole lot of it at least. She was glad to see he wasn't dead at least. Maybe there was hope for the others. Maybe they survived. Was there truly a chance she could return to the life she once had?

Hope. When did she start to believe in such a stupid thing? Miho caught herself. She could throw up right now if she could. Hope? Miho let out a small laugh. It wasn't dark or anything. She just caught herself feeling something she felt like she shouldn't be feeling. It was a feeling she was completely ashamed of. Her eyes fell to the ground as she was still entrapped by Nijuu's hug as she thought through all of this. It was almost like she was searching the concrete for answers as to why she felt this way. Oh my god. He was hugging her. What the hell? Him of all people. It was just fucking Nijuu. The moron had a temper that was blazing. It was like a certain shinigami she briefly knew. Louder than a siren and still stark raving mad. He was still the same goddamn Nijuu. Why the hell was she feeling so...so... happy? Just the mere thought of the word was disgusting and yet...she felt it.

"I'm just dandy." she retorted dryly. Well, now, she was and she wasn't. Miho had those conflicting emotions again. She was always so many things in just a single moment. She got to see Nijuu but the rest were on her mind. Chisoku wasn't around and Kouen was nowhere to be seen. Honestly, she was expecting to be lied to. It hurt. It wasn't sparing her shit. She had a fucking right to know and no one told her a lick of truth. Kuroi had his own agenda like always and blondie over there wasn't about to let the Segunda cut his tongue off for opening his trap. Nijuu was alive but that mean that he was as much of a tool to Kuroi as she was. It was pointless to ask further. Regardless, she was furious. Her scarlet eyes darkened with fury for a brief moment until she head Nijuu speak again. "Eh? Those guys? Those guys're dead, scum." She peeled herself away from her ex-comrades. The look she gave him practically said "What do you think I am? Stupid?" Nuh-uh. She wasn't falling for it again.

She took what Nijuu told her with a grain of salt. She wasn't convinced until she saw their bodies or something. Though, to be honest, part of her wasn't sure to believe in the fact that they were alive. Clear hesitation held her small figure for a moment when he spoke to her; completely unsure what to say to him. For one thing, Nijuu cursing the shit out of everything and just the sheer fact he was here was almost surreal to her. Two...What was she gonna do? Tell him he's a liar? She didn't know enough of everything. She was truly in the dark with all of this. It was aggrivating. How hard was it to say something happened. It was worse being lied to. Instead, she looked at him with that familiar piercing stare. She was full of apprehension and then she finally opened her mouth. "...So what happened to Kouen and what happened to Chisoku?" She decided to go out on a limb and ask. Nijuu would be the most well informed because, well, he was there! So maybe he'd know something.

Okay. Nijuu clearly had no fucking idea who Desgarron was. She could clarify and tell him but then she'd hear his usual "I DON'T KNOW WHO THE FUCK THAT IS, SCUM. WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW?" bullshit but why torture herself further? Then, it just occurred to her...Those humans could see Nijuu. Was he wearing a gigai or something? Why wasn't he with them when they were back at Las Noches. He'd heard nothing about the mission which was probably why he didn't have a clue as to who Desgarron was. "..What happened to you, Nijuu?" She'd actually used his real name. It was an indication that she, maybe, kinda, sorta, just a little bit cared for the obnoxious loud-mouthed moron. In a way he was almost like a distant brother with roid rage that never seemed to end. All in all, she was looking for a serious answer. If he wouldn't give her one then, well, that's fine. She understood if he was going to brush it off or joke about something or hulk smash. It was what she was expecting and really, she expected no less.

"HEY, SCUM...WHERE THE FUCK YOU BEEN? YOU TURNED INTO SUCH A CRYBABY..." His grating vocals never ceased to amaze her. It's only been 3 minutes since she'd seen him 'come back from the dead' and he was already mocking her. The fury was returning. Hands balled into fists as she quivered with anger. "Oh. I'm sorry. I wasn't EXPECTING YOU SHITHEADS TO DIE ON ME." she yelled. "You piece of shit. I care about you morons and I came back only to hear everyone dropped like flies but apparently I'M NOT TALKING TO A GHOST." she said loud enough for Kuroi to hear; clearly not pleased he told her that they were all dead. There is was again. Care. She'd said something nice and meant it from the bottom of her little, shriveled black heart. Was it tiny and shriveled and dark as she proclaimed to be? Maybe not as much as before but the fact still stands, Miho cared for her comrades.

"I'm here with the Boss and some old guy. Dunno if you wanna say hi. I don't know what the fuck happened when I was gone." she motioned her head back at where she'd left Kuroi and Marcelius. She wanted to hear his response. Had something happened between the two or something. Any bit of information. To be left out in the dark...? That wasn't supposed to happen to her. No. It shouldn't be. Miho was the one to leave others in the dark. Why is this happening to her? Right now, her best lead to whatever the hell was going on stood right in front of her, tall and angry as ever.

[Marcelius]

Desgarrion. This was Marcelius' responsibility. The Arrancar was near, but he was not still. In this town, stillness presented a danger of it's own. With some many being spiritually aware, even a well cloacked soul had to maintain a loose inhabitance. Lingering too long in one location, would pollute the area with their energy...leaving ever larger and more evident clues for an interested party to pick up on. How did Marc know this? Because he was a sensor of considerable talent? No, because he was Hollow...a hunter. When it comes to what a Hollow hunts, the answer is regrettably, other Hollows. Capturing Pluses has not, nor ever will present a challenge for Hollows. Not even those most base of their breed, who are often not more intelligent than a beast, faced any challenge dispatching the newly dead. It was a disturbing fact, one the occupied the greatest portion controlhistory. Having a hunger that demanded a more filling diet; Hollows became the only satisfaction. To nourish his belly, he had to face trial and difficulty. Hollows were not easy prey.

Never helpless. Never weak. Well, not all of them. Some where even elusive, much like Marc himself. The weaker ones who used tricks and skill to stay alove. They were the ones he wanted. They posed the least threat, and their vital minds proved more delightful to the pallet. So to track down them down, he had to learn habits that all Hollows shared. Instincts and tactics that were naturally bred into their kind. Through the years, more so than others, he became astounding at the hunt. Having found Las Noches, spending time observing her people; Marcelius as discovered Arrancar to be have mich like their evolutionary predecessors. The retention of his skills are something of a double-edged sword...with the second blade twisting and jutting from the hilt. He may be the realm's expert on tracking Hollows; while also possessing greater reason than most to be disgusted with himself. Often invaluable, yet he would willing trade it in exchange for nothing.

Desgarrion was not far, from the murmured sound of his soul, hidden somewhere indoors...or underground. Not in a shelter, or some other form of resistant fortress, as Marc could still hear him. The building in question, was filled with other spiritually gifted beings. The signatures were weak, very possibly normal humans. There also existed the threat, of spiritual aware beings whom were concealing themselves. Marc could feel them, regardless of their means of disguise, thanks to their songs. Concealing the true girth of their powers was possible. For now, what he could hear from them was less reliable. The closer the he came would help him comb through the clutter of noises, and listen for thoughts and emotions which might disclose their secrets. For now, Desgarrion was sage, and keeping himself unnoticed from less interested parties. For these reasons, and the fact that the Arrancar had not yet displayed any intentions to leave his current residence, Marc allowed himself to be captivated by the drama before him. Miho and Nijuu, together again. Kuroi doing his best to remained unaffected by such a reunion and it's impacts. For Marcelius himself, well, it was more complicated.

His mind was beginning to tire, trying to balance everything around him. Where before, he told himself to be respectful and to give each of them their privacy...he was weak. There was too much to see, and to examine. The situation was alive with various stimuli. Truthfully, for the conditioning and regement that was present within each other, they seemed to be quite capable of substle slips. Almost all of them, at least. Nijuu was a being without subtlety, and to the great relief of Marcelius' mental strain, he was easy to read. Such an angry being, who used his passions and lack of control. He threw himself at the world, and the world shook for it. When he lied, he did so poorly. Why? His unguarded and reckless nature made deception difficult. There was no craft or trickery to his words, for their was neither of those in his heart or soul. So no matter how well such an individual might be trained, he would always be a poor liar. Fortunately, that made him someone Marc could grow to like...just, with a considerable amount of time and patience. Unfortunately, this portion of his character did more harm than good. Harm to who? Certainly not Kuroi or Marc...

Miho burned with anger that challenged Nijuu himself. Having discovered a flaw in her fabricated reality, she was responding as Marcelius guessed she would. This is what he had feared. She would discover the misdirection, and turn immediately on those responsible for it's manifestation. Namely Kuroi, but there was no doubt she could turn such wrath on Marc as well. Mmm, even Nijuu seemed a likely candidate for malediction. Within Miho there was the greatest diversity of feelings. How difficult it must be for her, to constantly struggle with her feelings as she did. For Nijuu, it was easy. No matter what happened nor his sympathies for it, he could express himself through his anger. Whether he was happy or sad, it could always fuel some aspect of his rage. This was a defense, pure and simply. Marc had seen, studied, and understood such behaviors before. Many of them. Countless numbers of them. Each different, but all the same.

The Segunda was much the same, except his shelter was built out of reason and determination. Where his former Fraccion could burst and broil over every situation, Kuroi preferred to contain himself. Sheer will kept his attitude and mood in check. So, in his own way, he too was a constant. But Miho, she was violent sea of feelings. She did not choose to express or repress herself in a single, uniform passion. What she did, was anything and everything to maintain a distance and cruelty. Guarded like Kuroi, but impulsive like Nijuu. Never deciding on one or the other, always forcing and fighting against it all. Turbulent, exhausting...to Marc it seemed so detrimental. Miho used it as her guard, like the others, but what good could such a thing do her when it demanded so much? Oh how he wished he could intrude the conversation. To tell her to just let it out, her tremendous relief. To accept that what was done, was done for her sake. To be honest with her, of what all was still to come.

Yes, the worst was still in the works. No lies would stall or prevent it, given the distrust now growing in Miho's thoughts. The reality of why there were her, was soon to be shared. Not the minor detail about recruiting a new comrade...no, the problem was Kouen. Having learned one of her former friends was alive, she was becoming skeptical and wise. Given what Marc felt before, back in Las Noches, Miho had built an especially strong bond with him. More so than friendship or fraternity as Fraccion. There was something, as fragile and deadly as love. It was trust. Simple, honest, and soon to be destroyed. What then? When she hauls the truth into the daylight, either by interrogation or discovery...what would Kuroi's plan be then? Given her past, she could not be trusted to deal with the rebel.

Marcelius was no fool, he knew that the Espada had planned to face the traitor alone. This enemy must have truly terrible power, for Naito to not want his Fraccion there. Being as capable as he was, their involvement would only provide a desperate opponent with alternative targets. That is why Miho was never to know he was still alive. Kuroi did not want them anywhere near the fight. So now, with Miho set to learn the truth...what would his new plan be? "Desgarrion" Turning his back from the pairing, so that his words were for Kuroi's ears only. "Not far from here, South by South-West. He is within a building, of some sort...with lively souls surrounding him. I doubt they are a threat, more likely a clever sheet of spiritual static for him to better conceal himself with. Not moving, not anxious. He is not going anywhere for a while."

Though Marc himself had little experience or personal knowledge on this next matter, it provided substantial evidence for his briefing. "Given a few of the more colorful things he has told me, he is either observing the female's dancing in celebration of a football game...or perhaps watching a staged performance of sexual intercourse featuring several young women disguised as...what was the term, "cheerleaders"? Either way, he will be indisposed for the next half hour or so to be sure." Giving it a moment to sink in, waiting for response from the Segunda before proceeding to answer any inquiries. Once all issues where addressed, "Might you have a plan for this?" His head motioning to the curious and tempered Miho. "Or, rather, one you wish to share?" It went without saying, Miho's mindset was not a tactical advantage. Being a genius who loved through preparation, Kuroi must have something thought out. If he did, he would know that Marc could search for it...but only if it was the Espada's wish that he know. Marc was curious, but loyalty would always surpass such character flaws. Too bad loyalty did not act to shield Miho and Nijuu's conversation...though with their shrill voices, not much truly could. "She's being modest, I am practically ancient." This time, he spoke for all to hear. Before turning to stand by Kuroi, facing the others as they had been before.

[Zou ۞]

Kuroi noted Desgarron's position and took the information in stride. Good. Marcelius could detect Desgarron without any problems at all. It was not of utmost importance yet to go fetch this new one. As long as Marcelius could keep track of where the Arrancar was situated, then it was not imperative to go to him. There was no rush. They could afford to finish a few other tasks. Most importantly, Kuroi understood that Miho and Nijuu had catching up to do, and that Nijuu had to deflect or at least satiate her questions. It would also be important for Nijuu to become acquainted with Marcelius, as this would not be the last time that they worked with one another. Nijuu was without a doubt Kuroi's best remaining agent. That said, it was time to interact.

"We will retrieve him later." Kuroi informed Marcelius, before either Miho or Nijuu were in ear range, and before either could hear what was being said. This information, Kuroi would relay to Marcelius alone. The others were not ready to be a part of this mission. "Keep track of where Desgarron resides. Focus on his reiatsu and do not lose him even once. For now, it is more important for yourself and Miho to become more tightly knit, and it is also important for you to become acquainted with Nijuu. You will all be working together very often in the future, and failure to cooperate adequately is a Shinigami's weakness." With that, Kuroi went to join Nijuu and Miho, and it was clear that he expected Marcelius to follow him there.

Before Kuroi arrived, and in fact simultaneous to Kuroi's conversation with Marcelius, Nijuu was answering Miho's questions. He was better than Kuroi at masking everything, as his insides boiled only with rage, and nothing else could be read in his soul but fire. In fact, if Marcelius were to pay attention to Nijuu, then it might even actually hurt to focus in on him. Nijuu's soul was extremely hot, if one could describe a soul in that way, and gazing into it was like stepping into a hot oven to be cooked, done while gazing at the sun. Nijuu was different from others in this way. This was why he was able to so effortlessly deflect Miho's question. "They got their throats ripped out by the Captain Commander of the Gotei Thirteen." Nijuu told her flatly and with a smug smirk. "I got away using Saigo No Houmen."

Saigo No Houmen was a legendary power, and one which many who were not of Espada class or higher would probably never have heard of. Nijuu lifted up his shirt, revealing not only an extremely muscular torso even more tightly knit than Kuroi's form, but a solid, rock hard chest. However, that was what was odd. A solid chest. There was no hole in it. Nijuu's Hollow hole, which had been over his heart, was not there. His chest was without that empty space which marked him as a Hollow. In fact, if one took a closer look at Nijuu, he had no mask fragment either. His reiatsu did not even feel like an Arrancar's either. "I used a super attack to drive off the Captain Commander, and it used up so much reiatsu that it turned me human." Nijuu said very matter-of-factly.

"Now I attend this thing called a university, somewhere in this town. I'm working right now as an informant for the Boss. Meanwhile, I'm considering it an extended training assignment. This place is different from Hueco Mundo. It's making me stronger." At that point, Kuroi and Marcelius would arrive, just in time for Marcelius to deliver his comment about age. Nijuu continued to smirk, but did not respond. Miho had not been around at the time, nor had Marcelius, but Kuroi had done something similar. There had been a time when he too disappeared from Las Noches temporarily, and where Kuroi became a human once more in the human world. It was at that time that through intensive training, he returned to his status as an Arrancar, and did so as a far more powerful entity than before.

"This is a good opportunity." Kuroi told his team. "You are all gathered here. Get acquainted. I have other matters to attend to." Indeed, Kuroi did have a few other things to do. For that reason, he walked away shortly after, leaving them alone with one another. Miho, Nijuu, and Marcelius were left together to essentially get acquainted. Kuroi would return, but he had a few things to check out first, primarily in the way of achieving information about Kouen Akarui. This information, Nijuu was also privy to, however. Nijuu had left it for Kuroi at some point. Before Kuroi left, he told him. "It's at the fourth drop box, Boss." he said. Kuroi nodded and left. This left the two Fraccion alone with one who was formerly of the title.

"HEY, SCUM!" Nijuu roared at a passing tourist, scaring them and causing them to fall on their butt. He laughed. In fact, it was not a tourist, but a classmate of Nijuu's. After a quick exchange, wherein Nijuu discerned that a certain establishment near the campus which he attended was open, he took to Miho and Marcelius. "Who wants to go get a drink?" Nijuu asked. He was asking if either wanted to go have alcohol at a bar which he knew about. Would either or both be averse to alcohol? Nijuu had actually never had a drink with Miho before, and therefore knew nothing about her feelings on the drink. Soon enough, they would find out. This was Nijuu Tentei, one of the most powerful of Kuroi's subordinates.

[Deleted]

"She's being modest, I am practically ancient."

Her face scrunched up. What a smartass. Miho's head slowly turned in Marcelius' direction. Raven tresses briefly obscured her line of vision for a moment until she finally looked at the old blonde wiseass. Eyebrows were furrowed, her glare filled with vexation. A small sigh escaped her lips. Normally, she'd have retorted with something nasty and absolutely rude. Yet, she held her tongue because she was still in a somewhat okay mood. The she-devil would spare the blondie of her caustic spats and malicious remarks. Instead, she'd just offer him that glare he'd been so used to at this point. One that truly wasn't amused. He was doing a very good job up until this point. Old people just shouldn't talk... at all. Actually, no one should talk. No one should say anything stupid and blahblahblah. Here we go. She was thinking of only the most ridiculous and impossible all for the sake of... well... pleasing her.

... And why the fuck shouldn't she want that? She was damn great in her world. Just lacking a little in somethings but everything'll fall into place, right? As if that was a question that needed to be answered. She returned her attention to Nijuu. Hands found their way at her hips and she shifted her weight to one leg. Miho's head was tilted in a quizzical fashion. Her expression would reveal that although she was seemingly calm and at peace, there was great turmoil in her. The wheels were turning and it was apparent. She was thinking about all three of them right now; thinking about their deaths. Whether Nijuu was a great liar or not... Whether he wanted to showboat and prove that he was magnificent to her for whatever reason didn't really mean much to this hellion. The fact still stood; Kuroi lied to her.

Now, had it not been for that, maybe she would have actually considered taking everything he'd told her at face value. Maybe she would have believed Nijuu but Miho Shoga was not one who could be easily fooled. She took everything Nijuu said with a grain of salt. Though, saying someone got their throats ripped out was oddly specific... she wasn't going to believe it. Marcelius would even be able to tell that much. He'd see that inside she was not only angry, but full of anguish and confusion. Was she happy she got Nijuu to answer her? No. The answer still stood. They kept telling her that they both died and Miho was gradually getting more and more riled up. They all had the nerve to keep lying to her like she was some kind of idiot. Some comrades. Kuroi had wanted them to get along and make nice but his idea had the greatest flaw of them all.

They were all monsters. They'd all done things of the spiteful and venomous variety. When it all comes down to it, they were vile and beastly and that was the tune of all their intentions. It was always for someone's personal gain. Could you align yourself with someone who hid the truth from you in the name of it being strategic or "not being good for her health"? Not a chance in hell. But they were arrancar... they but those nerves aside but they never forgot them. Miho might've forgotten for a bit but this entire scene just reminded her that her return was empty. She came back to liars and fakes not to comrades like she expected she would. She was already broken but honestly? It just broke her further. Was she over thinking it? Not in her mind. Simple actions and some basic analysis... That coupled along with the fact that they all had history with each other... It was not a hard thing to decipher.

She wanted to see their bodies... That would be the most concrete proof. Seeing was believing after all. "They got their throats ripped out by the Captain Commander of the Gotei Thirteen. I got away using Saigo No Houmen." Miho blinked curiously. "...Huh." Just as she was about to ask about Saigo no Houmen, she'd see Nijuu lift up his shirt. An eyebrow rose as if to say she was delightfully impressed with what she saw. Of course, that only lasted for a second before she realized his hollow hole was gone. Long gone. "So...Saigo no Houmen burns up your reiatsu and turns you human? Jeez." Nijuu the human. Hn. It was such a strange thought. "Heh. Who knew... With a temper like yours, I was sure you'd be the farthest thing from human." she jested. She didn't have any venomous words or dark intent behind her words. Not this time. Whether they lied to her or not, they were all still on the same team.

"Now I attend this thing called a university, somewhere in this town. I'm working right now as an informant for the Boss. Meanwhile, I'm considering it an extended training assignment. This place is different from Hueco Mundo. It's making me stronger." So they ARE working together. Miho knew it and it almost seemed as though an alarm went of on her head. If he worked for Kuroi, which was to be expected, then just like Kuroi it was only natural for Nijuu to be fully informed and know about whatever Kuroi had cooking up. Nijuu and Kuroi would definitely be on the same page. If Kuroi lied. Nijuu lied. Miho was 100% certain of that now. She wasn't going to say anything. No. Not yet at least. She'd wait for a better opportunity in the future. For now, she'd focus on catching up with her her brother-like comrade. "Wow. Gotta give credit where its due. I'm impressed. Life's treating you well it seems. Heh. I can assume Rin is too.... How is that miserable shinigami?" she asked with a grin. Miho hadn't known anything since she'd disappeared. She'd been playing catch up and trying...

Failing miserably.......

Kuroi approached them and told them to make nice. Whatever. She was okay with Nijuu. It was the blondie that she was weary of first. First Kuroi says they're complimentary and now ... well nothing. He was just old. That was it. She had no real problem with him. He was just strange to her being a newcomer and all. "It's at the fourth drop box, Boss." Kuroi was leaving and going to some fourth drop box...hm...Where could Kuroi possibly be going? Maybe she should ask him about lying later on... Or find out what that drop box thing was about. Anything to be more well informed at this point. "Later, Boss." she said, briefly watching him leave, taking note of the direction he left in. Apprehension was what she felt but with her amazing acting ability, Nijuu would have a difficult time in being able to pick up on how suspicious Miho was. The only one who'd know was that old guy...

Blondie..

He didn't look stupid. He had this look like he knew EVERYTHING. She hated it... But he didn't seem malicious. No wait... it was far too soon to tell. He'd been there when she just got back. He was probably let on in their whole charade as well. Hmph. At least she knew a little about Nijuu. She didn't know anything about Marcellius. That was a problem.

After a moment or two, Nijuu would talk to his classmate. Upon listening to their exchange, it would seem there they'd be going somewhere near Nijuu's school. "Who wants to go get a drink?" Heh. They say drunk words were sober thoughts...It would be a great opportunity to see what the blondie was all about. She offered Marcelius a wicked smirk as she'd give him a look the clearly said she was up to no good. She was mostly focused on"Yeah. I think we're both up for drink.... Right, blondie? ... Don't tell me you've got to go play chess in the park all by your ancient lonesome... Come drink with the younguns." She'd offered taunting pout in an attempt to get some sort of reaction from him. Ah...There it was again! Words that threatened to cut him like glass. He was new in her eyes. It was only fair he got newcomer treatment. She'd been focused on taunting and insulting him so he'd get no indication of her true plan. Lips peeled back into a sly grin as she'd turn to Nijuu. "Lead the way."

[Marcelius]

Dipping his head, his voice deep when he spoke calmly, and confidently. "I understand." The context of the Segunda's words held far more meaning for Marcelius, individually. Taking him back to their discussion in the forest, where the old Hollow had dared to envy aspects of Shinhami life. Though he would not speak openly about such a thing; Marc found it quite comforting to hear Kuroi talk of tightly not cooperation. Already, Marcelius was fast at work. Piecing together what information he was offered, to determine how best earn trust and familiarity. Honestly, such a task being handed down from a superior, was a dream. Establishing some sort of fellowship was actually a priority for his mission. What more could he ask for? Perhaps, maybe...an easier mission. Given what he had seen this far, Nijuu and Miho both appeared to be quite set in their ways.

Fortunately, within him was a great well of patience from which to pail. Given enough time...the two of them would given in to the idea. Hopefully, it would not come to such tactics of attrition. Nijuu was a spirit to be endured...those who can muster a tolerance for his mannerisms should find his company quite enjoyable. After all...Miho liked him. Which said a lot about her as well. Nothing Marcelius did not already know, obviously. She kept her real opinions hidden, while putting on a harsh exterior performance. There was certainly a great darkness within her...much the compliment to Nijuu's purified rage. Unlike Nijuu, Miho's emotions were constantly in swing...which meant one had to be more alert. To expect the unexpected. Such as sudden bursts of concern. Sweet as those hidden sincerities might be...Marc was already preferring the low maintenance of Nijuu.

Whew, that sudden rush of heat. It was a familiar burn. One that a Hollow such as himself was quite knowledgeable of. The kind of glare which wished death and pain upon those in it's crosshairs. Having lived a long, cautious, long, empathetic, long, condemned, long life; Marcelius had never once resisted such a heated stare. Now would be no different. With Miho's quiet contempt singling him out, he was forced to lock eyes with her. Drawn like a moth. To her little scowl, which made her feelings quite clear, he returned a smile. Providing generous amusement, to compensate the absence of her own. Ah, but this was not the best response. All it would do was hammer upon her irritation even more. She would turn away from him, to cut short his smirks effects. Not giving him the pleasure of seeing any reaction he might have caused back. This was not at all what he wished, but once again, a failure caused by his unconquerable habits. It could not come at a more terrible time either.

Young Miho was in no sort of mood to be teased or mistreated. Not right now. Not with what was happening. Something was broiling, which might cause the collapse of what bonds this gathering still retained. As had been feared earlier, the Segunda's lie was becoming more exposed. It was the loyalty which he swore to the Espada, that held his tongue. Surely there was a plan at work here. Some hidden, secret expectations. Marcelius had believed it to be the protection of Miho's fragile state of mind. After all, she was an unexpected addition to this little trip of theirs. There was no cutting her out, for her rebellious nature would have simply involved itself anyways. The hope, therefore, must have been to reign in her free spirit. Misdirection, perhaps? Whatever it was, the success was hard to determine. Worse still was Miho's growing doubts. Questions which piled and piled behind the calm guise which she wore. How much longer could she keep up the act? How long till she grew tired of being excluded and deceived? Marc would have very little say in all of that...as loyalty still drove him to quietly keep with the ruse.

The Segunda's words did a great service, coming to snap Marc free from his plummeting thoughts. Turning to listen to the Espada's instructions. Nothing more than the inclusion of the gang into what Marcelius already knew. They were to become better acquainted, with the subtle suggestion that they become friendly as well. Hmm, it was quite a bold assignment...but it was from Kuroi, so it would be accomplished. Quietly stepping away from their commander, Marc took his place next to the rest of his fellows. At that time, Nijuu shared his own mission's success. Having no knowledge of the human's assignment, it required no more than commonsense to determine he had complete supomething for Naito. The fruits of that labor awaited in some distant, hidden place. Marc was relieved to hear, he was not the only one interest in this message. Miho's suspicious erupted into a display of awesome colors at the mention of some secret agenda.

It confirmed everything she had guessed before, and rekindled the distrust that Nijuu's words had momentarily distracted. Once more she was on her toes, eager to uncover everything that was going on without her. Marcelius mentally pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening...well, one other than the Segunda...that the contents of that box would lead Kuroi to Kouen. While they were busy, trying to play nicely, he would quickly dispose of the traitor. There were too many complications that could arise...if the current assignment became delayed. Foremost, would be the Fraccion's involvement. After all...this enemy was supposed to be powerful, one which required an Espada to defeat. Not only would they have no chance of overcoming such a foe...they could be as easily used by the opponent for benefit. If anyone could ever get to Kuroi...or stand any possibility of doing so...it would have to be a former Fracvion turned traitor.

Fraccion, they certainly did behave like a family. It was...dysfunctional, but that was the charm. Though it should have provided Marcelius an unending supply of joy to be associated with such a collection, his mood was far from jubilant. If anything, it caused him to be more reserved than anything else. His caution was not product of their power. Despite being some of the most capable killers Las Noches had ever seen. As well, it was not their present location. The deadly streets of this most infamous region did little to unnerve him. What kept him -mostly- withdrawn, was not some mortal threat. Instead, it was realism coming to strangle his desires. Certainly, his excepectations had yet to become fulfilled. After all, the reunion of this unit was something which still barely included himself.

Fraccion by title, but not by accomplishment. That was all he was. A subordinate-errant, still looking for his place in this brotherhood...a place he could not be gifted. For no matter the wishes of Kuroi, or how official things may have been; he was not a member until he was accepted completely. That meant this Nijuu character and Miho both, would have to find some reason to value his presence. Knowing full well he had quite a lot to offer, the trick would be making such talents available and useable by his comrades. This is the part of the Hero's tale, which would require some great quest. Ah, but this was no heroic plot...and if it were, Kuroi was the one destined to face down the dragon. So, Marc would have to determine another way to prove himself. A challenge certainly greater than it might appear.

Then came the assault, one of tremendous auditorial substance. Some poor passerby suddenly incurred the wrath of Nijuu. It would have appeared as a random verbal lashing, had it not quickly been revealed the pair knew one another. Still...and odd way to suddenly grab another's attention. Maybe this Nijuu was not as low maintenance as Marc previously hoped? Either way, from the vocal vicrtim the location of a nearby bar came to light. With this new data, Nijuu turned his attention back to the likes of them. While he spouted off about this nearby establishment, and issued his invitation for a drink...Marc watched the peculiar reactions of the fellow student. How did other humans behave when watching a madman rave at invisible people he could see, but others could not?

Marcelius suspected some level of surprise from the spectator...then again, given Nijuu's behavior thus far...maybe they just accepted this man as an odd one? One could only hope..."Maybe a human bar is not the bes-" Cut off, by the shattered-sharp words of the little devil Miho, the old man turned his head to look down upon her. Though the idea of chess in the park was quite pleasing to him, he simply turned a smirk towards Nijuu. "We will need Gigai..." Surely an agent of Kuroi would be prepared with such necessities. Possibly in his dorm or apartment. If not, he would certainly know where to acquire some. If the both of them wanted to go to a bar so badly, he would gladly join in...keeping his detest of alcohol a secret, for now.

[Zou ۞]

SPOILER: Click to show

Did Nijuu have Gigai? Yes, yes he did. An hour later, the two Fraccion would find themselves in the company of one of Kuroi's most infamous subordinates in some sort of strange inn, where they were dining at the bar area. Not only had Nijuu provided Gigai for the two of them which had molded into their exact forms (with their exact clothes), but he had then taken them to his favorite establishment. It was habitual of him to at least once a week come here, the Lazy Golden Duck, to drink sake, party it out, use the hot springs, and fall asleep in one of their rented, luxurious rooms. Apparently, being a human world subordinate of Kuroi's had it's perks. Nijuu made a great deal of money on a lot of the jobs that Kuroi had him doing. People that became involved with Kuroi and Nijuu often had deep pockets, and Kuroi had a deep client list.

They would therefore find themselves in the corner of the bar area, Nijuu being on his fourth jug of sake and still going strong, barely even tipsy, and Miho and Marcelius drinking whatever they had so chosen to drink. It could all become something quite comedic, or it could become somewhat disastrous. "BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" Nijuu roared, laughing at some sort of joke he had told about Miho. As a matter of fact, the joke had involved the word "crybaby" because Miho had been rather teary upon seeing Nijuu once more, and this he would never let go. She was to be continually mocked for it for the rest of her life. Fact. Nijuu took a swig of his fourth jug of sake and finished it in one massive gulp.

"This is fucking great." Nijuu told them very bluntly. "I love this fucking place. HEY, SCUM! MORE SAKE!" He roared at one of the waitresses, who laughed it off with a giggle and went to fetch more. Apparently she was used to Nijuu's mannerisms. In fact, by the way they had greeted one another and talked throughout this entire time, one could surmise that they were actually friends. Nijuu. Actually had. FRIENDS. There was a massive variety of people in the world. Even someone like Nijuu could be liked by others! What are the odds? Nijuu was not even close to being completely drunk yet. He had far more to drink. Regardless, he did not seem to plan on slowing down at any point in time, either. Nijuu was not a weak drinker.

In fact, no one around him was going to be a weak drinker. Not while Nijuu was in charge! Which he technically wasn't. "HERE, DRINK UP!" Nijuu encouraged, shoving a jug of sake to Marcelius's lips from out of nowhere. Where had Nijuu gotten another jug?! He simply materialized one out of thin air, as if it was a superpower, and held it up to Marcelius's lips and tried to force the Fraccion to drink. Simultaneous, he did this to Miho as well, attempting to get both completely plastered. Unlike Nijuu, it was doubtful that either of them had such an incredible tolerance. "HEY, SCUM! CHUG! CHUG CHUG CHUG!" Nijuu roared and laughed maniacally. He hurled one of the empty jugs at his waitress friend, who made a low moaning sound as it hit the wall. Nijuu abruptly stopped and then looked at her. "...That was just weird." Noticeably, Nijuu had not answered any questions whatsoever, nor had his emotions shifted at all for Marcelius to detect.

Meanwhile. . .

SPOILER: Click to show

"I've found you, Kouen..." Kuroi said. He took a step into the bar. It was not the same bar as the one occupied by Nijuu, Miho, and Marcelius. Rather, it was a town away, far enough so that not even Marcelius would be able to sense where they were. Kuroi had arrived in this bar based on a tip, and found in the corner what he was searching for. It was a spiritual bar, in that it was frequented by the spiritually aware. Therefore, all could see Kuroi, and knew what was happening. They all knew who he was. He was the Segunda Espada, and anyone who he had come for must be worth quite a bit to Las Noches in some way or another. Kuroi drew his Zanpakuto, pinning it at the throat of the black cloaked figure in the corner whose drawn hood showed only darkness on the interior.

However, there could be no doubt in Kuroi's mind that this was Kouen, for the reiatsu signature which had emanated from this bar was Kouen's, and yet none had his face, and the only one left in there was the hooded figure. By a simple process of deductive reasoning, one could conclude that the hooded figure was indeed Kouen Akarui, former Fraccion to the Segunda Espada, Kuroi Naito, and now a traitor to Las Noches and a ranked Zarpa within the Escudo organization. Kuroi held his blade pinned there at the throat of his victim, waiting for words. When no answer of any sort came, Kuroi gave a small, calm, confident smile. "What's the matter, Kouen? Have you lost your nerve already?" Kuroi seemed rather smug about it.

With his sword, he pinned the hood and pulled it down. However, what he saw made his eyes widen completely. Kuroi's eyes grew incredibly wide, and his sword lowered. "Impossible..." Kuroi muttered out loud. The entire bar was focusing on the Espada and on his supposed victim. All of them were watching. The target held up a ring with an orange gem in it, and handed it to Kuroi, who took it. He sheathed his sword. The ring was what had held Kouen's reiatsu. It had simply been sitting on the table, and Kouen was already long gone. Instead, the hooded figure was an olive skinned individual with black hair. Kuroi turned away from the Greek Guy and went back to his search. "Wrong person." Left behind, there was an electric watch with a timer on the Greek Guy's wrist. "173 days, 14 hours, 7 minutes."

[Deleted]

It would seem her plans to make the old man piss drunk would go slightly awry. For one, Miho was hoping she'd take a water shot alongside Nijuu while giving the Old Fart some real strong shots. It would be the easiest and fastest way to get him messed up. It was a sound plan but with the way events turned out, it seems as though she'd start to fall into the same pit as poor ol' Marcelius the Geezer. Don't get her wrong. Miho could handle her alcohol to an extent just like everyone else. However, she wasn't nearly on Nijuu's level. Who knew how much Nijuu just chugged. He was a fricken' machine that spat out nothing but fire and power. Sure, alcohol was nice every now and then. She'd even go so far as to say she liked it. But, It wasn't something she absolutely loved. She did it one in a blue moon but she could live with out it too. She'd had well over hundreds of years with sporadic experiences with alcohol. It was safe to say that Miho's alcohol tolerance wasn't shabby at all. She could keep up.

Nijuu made various jokes; calling her a cry baby. That's cute coming from the man-child. What did you expect from temper-tantrum Nijuu? I was a 4 year old in a well-kept older guy's body. It was stuff like that that Miho barely paid any attention to. Barely. She did a little. He really was the same old obnoxious, loud mouthed firecracker he'd always been. Sure. His grating vocals made her want to slam her fist right in his face and maybe she might've wanted to rip his vocal chords out but still. He was her comrade/brother... At least to her he was. Miho doubted he felt the same way because she'd already picked up on him lying to her. That was Kuroi's fault though. Not his entirely. It felt good to know he was still himself and he kept true to that. Granted, he was a fricken' liar and still Kuroi's rat... but still the same old, barely loveable Nijuu. Miho wondered what the others were like now or where they were. She expected them to be on some secret missions of their own.

If Kouen was still around... did he think of her? She'd sat at the table mulling over it for a minute or so. She hadn't been the greatest girl in the world but no matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get rid of him... and he sometimes just seemed to stick to her like an annoying piece of bubble gum at the bottom of one's shoe. The thought of him being alive was almost surreal. She'd been told he was dead but was he really? Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn't. She'd already steeled herself in the event that he was dead. But what if he was alive? Was she prepared for that? Again, she wasn't sure. She wouldn't know what to say to him but would he still be the same? Would he still tell her sweet things much to her chagrin and angry insults? God, she wished she knew. She wished he had a definite answer. Miho felt unsettled; it felt like there was something of great importance that needed to be done... or that something was coming. She just didn't know what. The girl was antsy.

Before she knew it, her lips met the mouth of the sake jug. She didn't need to be told what to do. She chugged and she chugged, gradually moving her hand to grasp the neck of the jug as she drank. Her grip on the thing became tighter as she drank more and more. The warm liquid trickling down her throat, the very mild burning sensation and the sake lightly seeping out from the corners of her mouth; this was not Miho's first rodeo. That's for damn sure. Hey, if he wanted to start a celebration, far be it from her to stop it. A little sake and rowdiness never hurt anyone... Right? She knew how to have fun. She slammed the jug on the table hard. Her breathing was heaving for moment from not pausing for a second in her little chug. Miho donned triumphant grin and her scarlet devilish pair would look at her comrades carefully to see if they'd waver. She knew Nijuu wasn't gonna budge. Grandpa on the other hand was a wild card. Her challenging gaze upon him would indicate that she was just waiting for him to slip up and go batshit crazy.

Heh. She couldn't wait..

Of course, after a huge jug like that, she was going to feel something. Everything became so fuzzy and warm and just a little more tolerable as the sweet sake started to settle in. Hey. This was good. Coming back to betrayal and lies was the dumbest fucking thing ever. It wasn't even upsetting. It was dumb. Kouen's dumb. Chisoku's dumb. Nijuu's dumb. That waitress is dumb. This bar was dumb. She started to laugh a little and she'd rest a hand on the old geezer's shoulder and say one thing. "Heh. This is dumb. You're dumb... and I'm dumb!" she started to giggle; she spoke to him as if it was something that needed to be celebrated. She may be just a little bit tipsy right now. That's okay. Sort of. It wasn't like she was piss drunk or anything. In her mind, it was forgetting about everything she came back to. Miho stood up and grabbed her empty jug. "...That's mine and...uh..yeah." She lost her train of thought. Miho decided to take a walk through out the whole bar/hotel/whateverthisplacewas and acquire more jugs in the process...somehow. She was a bit fuzzy and well, today's events just sucked a lot. Some alone time would be nice. So a walk it was! She took two steps before she turned on the heel and glared at both Marcelius and Nijuu and said one last thing before wandering about.

"I'm not drunk, assholes."

[Marcelius]

Starring up at the sign above, an old soul let out an almost audible sigh of lament. The Lazy Golden Duck, how quaint. Nothing about the name or the appearance of the inn could do much to stir the sighing Fraccion's mood. Truthfully, it was no great mystery that the eldest Arrancar had no taste for liquor or establishments of this sort. Way back when the suggestion had been first submitted, he did what he could to defer their plans. Now, an hour or so latter, his quiet displeasure was growing ever more constant. Seems the geezer was one of those, stubborn to the grave types. Going along with the his two younger accomplices, despite his own feelings. After all, it had been an order to stick together. In kinder, more suggestive words...of course. As it were, Marcelius did wish to learn more about his coworkers...but not like this.

Unfortunately, one of the first things he learned, was the difficulty of getting either of them to change their minds about anything. Oh well, this night would not go by quickly if he dwelled on the negatives. So he stuck close to the rascals. Looking over his shoulders as the clamoured up to the bar door. With a brief close of his eyes, he shut out as much of the world as he could. Reaching across buildings and roadways, he reconfirmed his information on the hidden Desgarrion. In the same. Still occupied by porn. Still unlikely to be going anywhere. With that information confidently updated, Marc did what he could to scan the surrounding building and even the area immediately around his little trio. If there were dangers lurking, he would have felt them...well, he could have.

In reality, he was being drug around by a rather pushy Nijuu. This would hinder his chances of locating anything, before the evening's drinking interfered even more. Making their way inside, he could hear the noise and feel the warmth coming from inside. The sudden sensation was quite pleasant...feeling even better thanks to his new body. Yes, the Gigai he wore was working out great. Too bad his was not availbkle in a...newer model. As soon as he had crawled into the new form, it developed wrinkles exactly like the ones he had hoped to leave behind. No reprieve for seniority, it was cruel really. Maybe that was for the best as well? After all, poor Miho would have to waste time thinking up new jokes to make about a youthful version of Grandpa. This made Marc chuckle, a bit of a delight to think she might actually go through such an effort. Nasty as she was, she was still amusing.

Nijuu on the other hand, was something else all together. It was like spending time with a demon loose from hell. Yea sure, it can be a fun time...but eventually things will get bad. So far though, Nijuu was taking his job as guide very seriously. Having shown them just what his new life had recently been about, Marc was beginning to feel a small bit of envy. Money, education, and fun, Nijuu had it all. Though he did not appear to keep much company, no friends or relationships noticed as of yet, he did not seem affected by it. Marc wished for a moment, that he could have had more of an attitude like that...back when he was wandering Hueco Mundo alone. But...ONLY for a moment.

The Three Mundoteers took up residence in a nearby booth. Given the familiarity Nijuu had with this place, how often he claimed to come here, and the numerous scratches of "SCUM" on the fine wooden table...this must be his booth. Taking a seat on the comfy leath cushion, the old man reached for whateber trace of a menu he could find. Surely enough, a pleasant waitress was called over by the spittle spewing monster. She took his requests with stride. She even appeared to smile a bit. Marcelius almost immediately succumbed to pure interest. Starring after the young lady as she went to fetch their order, he had to know if there was something between these too. The evidence supported it, given that she was not crying right now. If not some profound friendship, then perhaps something a bit more romantic?

Something, anything, had to be steeling this woman's nerves. Upon her return., Marc would have her name and her general feelings about being a nightly waitress...hopefully while she made eye contact with Nijuu, more intriguing thoughts might rise? One way or another, Marcelius and Miho both wipould no place their orders. Not wanting to appear odd or out of place by any means, Marc ordered a beverage and food. To avoid having to explain his choices, he slapped on the charm instead...telling the waitress to, "Surprise me." With food and drink on the way, he turned back to the others. Already, Nijuu was preparing his second jug of sake. Well, this is sure is escalating quickly. Not daring to interrupt the man or his chug, Marc had little desire to watch a man choke to death on sake.

Once he finished, caught his breath, used that breath to yell out at some poor fool, just in time for his second wind..."How long have you been living in this area, Nijuu?" A careful use of wording, designed to expose how long Nijuu had been living a human life. Carefully phrased, so as not to make a scene Nijuu's only recent re-admittance into mankind. The question went unanswered. Quite a shame. Even more so given the thoughts which lingered around in Miho's conscience. She was still reeling from the discovery of Kuroi's misdirection. It was clear, though she barely spoke, that she was quite unsettled by Nijuu being alive. Maybe, she was even upset at that fact...regardless of the lie which had concealed it. It was becoming harder to tell, she was being more chaotic with her musings. Obviously more lies, or just dodging the issue, was not going to help.

At least here, a debate which ended up in yelling and accusations, might seem more commonplace. Bars were notorious for confessions and spontaneous anger. None of that would be had unfortunately. No, Nijuu was bound and determined to drink. Hell, even before Marcelius could receive his drink and Na-Nachos?...Nijuu had determined they were all meant to get drunk. Without much warning, and happening while the old Hollow was occupied with Miho's feelings, a sudden jug appeared. Like a wild animal, leaping out of the tall grass, demanding a battle. Grasping the jug quickly, he started to protest. However...Nijuu proved quite strong. It took too much of his concentration to not choke himself, that he was left unable to fight against the already stronger man. By the end, he had wrestled the sake bottle from his opponent. It was far too late, as the contents were gone and his Gigai's system was flooded with the tonic.

This is where a terrible truth came to light. Marcelius; despite size, age, or experience, was a cheap date. A whole bottle would do a number on most anyone really, but Marc was weaker than most anyone. Setting the bottle down with a thud, his hands both grasped the table. Yes, the table...as if it would magically anchor his inhibition. His cheeks began to flush, and then his head was swimming. A nice wide angle filter laid over his eyes, making everything wobbly and indistinct. At first, he was able to compose himself...but he was not able to deny more liquor. Pretty soon, that compusre was eroded away by the fermented tide. All of his abilities to govern his thoughts, and even divide his focus...fucken shot. Soon, he was talking without realizing it. "A-aaah, I got...I got, whew...I got to say." Oh yes, those words needed to be said...but yet they were so hard to form. "I am really glad to be here." Laughing now, probably the first time all night. "Here. Where it is nice...and warm." Moving his head and hand in counter patterns, just trying to get another sip. "I was so...so fucking tired of that dessert!"

No, he did not catch his mistake. Taking more bulbs of that dreaded liquor, he only furthered his plight. "Ni...Nijuu, you fucking scum. Do you know how pissed little Miho was at you?" As he spoke, he grew quieter. Doing so, trying to whisper, as if he intended to keep Miho from hearing. However, as far gone as he was, he could not guage a..."whisper". "Kur...Kurry went and told her you were dead. Now you are alive!" Another drunken slur which brought his words unnecessary pause, "She knows, you two have been lying. She's very...very..." And hell, there is a word forgotten, no wait, here it comes, "Ah! She is quiet di-disillusioned. She is quite pissed..." There it was, what everyone knew but would not say. Now...for something no one knew, "Mi-Mi...*hic*oh, she, she cares for you. You...and "that bastard"." Mmm, perhaps it was something that they knew already. Oh well. Not all secrets are great ones.

Fortunately, Miho had long been gone, have said something about assholes before leaving. So caught up in Nijuu, Marcelius made no notice of this now. "Uuh, I am not...not in that boat. Hmm, me or the..." That is right, think hard..."The, uh...new guy. Yes, the new guy. The new guy...who likes porn. Yes, porn porn porn porn. I think it is all he does..." That last part, yeah, that was said with genuine concern. What is Marcelius, if not a bleeding heart? Even in his...fucked state, a part of Marcelius mind was STILL watching Desgarrion. Not well, but, as well as he could. Would not matter come hangov-dawn. If they kept going like this, morning was going to be quite memoryless. This may have caused Marcelius enough concern...to snap him free from his delusions. His great loyalty, and maturity, reminding him what his mission was. Sadly, his food finally arrived...for the fourth serving. In tandem with Nijuu, [smear:FFCC00]"Naaaaaachooooooos!!!"[/smear:FF0000]

[Zou ۞]

SPOILER: Click to show

"Eeeeehhhhh....scccummmm..." Nijuu broke in 40 minutes later. At last, he too was drunk. He had his arms around Miho and Marcelius, and was in between the two Fraccion with a plastered look to his face, the most diabolical of red tomato hues on his cheeks and nose. Truly, no one had ever been more drunk than this Fraccion! The night was not going to end cleanly, or without puking. Somehow, the place had erupted into party thirty minutes earlier, and somehow, people had already finished. There was simply too much alcohol. Nijuu made way too much money considering how few his responsibilities were. He had way too few responsibilities in his actual life. The entire room was full of people passed out all across the floor, the alcohol having gotten to them.

Unfortunately for Miho and Marcelius, Nijuu had spiked their drinks with a little something extra not only to enhance whatever happened to them, but to keep them awake as well. Therefore, this party train wasn't going to crash for a long while! Rather, they were going to be stuck with Nijuu, who presently was contemplating life. "See, scum...that's just life...One day you wake up, you fuck a woman that's afraid of bunnies, and then next thing you know, your Boss wants you to start wearing suits every day...it's a cycle...It all comes down to how much porn about your co-worker you can find... Particularly in your Boss's co-worker's room...It's there, I promise you...I really do, scum...I promise you...And then you bang the bunny hating person that you hate again...And it's a hate-fest...but there are no balloons..."

Now, if that wasn't confusing enough, everyone had swapped clothes by that point as well. Nijuu was wearing Marcelius's clothes, Miho was wearing a waitress uniform, and Marcelius was wearing Miho's clothes. How and when they had swapped, not even Nijuu could say. All that truly mattered was that they had swapped clothes. It had probably happened some time after what Nijuu had said in response to Marcelius 40 minutes previously. It had been something along the lines of "That bastard is dead...." Nijuu had let slip. "That was true the moment the Boss showed up here..." That was when he had first started getting tipsy. Now, 40 minutes later, things had taken quite a turn, though lucky for Marcelius, Desgarron was still in the same place, doing the same thing.

"I been here...over a year...and...and...and ain't no bunnies never nope not Greek..." Nijuu rambled, trying to find words. When he found them, they were completely different from what he had been spouting mere seconds before. "And next thing you know, your co-worker's your Boss's co-worker, but is still getting beaten up by Greek people, and bitch doesn't even have to wear clothes, the fuck...and then next thing you know, you get an emo co-worker who's also a crybaby...and then you're back to banging a woman you hate who hates bunnies. Life. Cycle. Life...alcohol...I'm drunk." Nijuu squeezed Miho and Marcelius close and grinned lazily, his eyes crossing as he brought them in within whispering point, and he whispered.

Nijuu's breath had the scent of alcohol, the strong stench of more than one lager, lingering with each word. "Hey, scum..." he said. "Let me tell you a secret..." Nijuu grabbed Miho's bottle, which still had some alcohol in it, though she might be too drunk to even notice what was happening, and threw up into it. To Nijuu's credit, not a single drop spilled, and it all went into the bottle, which he then placed back where it had been. Nijuu went back to talking. "The...the...the...the...the Asuka...used to fart every time she ate a cherry..." And somehow, whether it was Miho or Marcelius who spread the word, or someone else who heard it and let it slip, from that day on, Asuka was known by many to fart when she ate cherries, even if it was or wasn't true.

The door to the room opened up, and a figure dressed in a black sport coat and fedora entered. The coat and fedora served to cover up his body and also his eyes. Most of his face could not be seen as a result of the shadow cast by his hat, especially when one was in a drunken stupor. The figure sat at the bar with a confident smile, and ordered a drink briefly. It was brought to him in seconds, a small glass of scotch. He downed it quickly, and then left, leaving a hefty sum with more than adequate tip to pay for the drink, much to the smile and nod of the male bartender. All of the female bartenders stood there with their mouths agape. Their eyes had mysteriously transformed into beating red heart shapes, and they were petrified, as if they had been turned to stone.

[Deleted]

It was safe to say that they were the trainwreck trio right about now. Each one of them. Piss drunk. Was is glorious? Well, someone's wearing Nijuu's clothes...Miho didn't fuckin' know who. Marc's wearing her clothes. Miho didn't fuckin' know how. Nijuu's wearing Marc's clothes. Miho didn't fuckin' know why. Aaaaaand...She's wearing some waitress' outfit. What. The. Hell. Everything for the last 30 or 40 minutes had been a blur. She got up. Walked around and ended up in the same place.

It was also safe to say that Miho was not in her right mind. She was leaned back in her chair, feet crossed and on the table. Miho's head rolled back. "It's so pretty..." What was she talking about? She was staring at the tiffany lamp above her and her eyes were glazed over in drunken happiness. She was barely registering what Nijuu was talking about. Something about bunnies. Was he talking about that stupid shinigami again?! "You need....find...one sssessy arrancar babe~ Shinigami SUCK..heh.. heheheh... Suck Suckers...That's what they aaaare~! Ahahahaha~!!" she started to laugh in a rowdy manner. She'd look at Nijuu and offer him a lazy grin. "Take that lamp fer esampl.....You love lamp! Ya f...fu...ugh...I love lamp." she pointed to the lamp above her.. .sort of. Her arm was tilted to the side but she thought she was pointing up at the lamp. Yeah. Miho was totally drunk.

Of course Miho was still in a sucky mood. She was still upset over Kouen and Chisoku. "You...bastards lied ta me. Ahahahaa~! What....Am I not pretty enough!? Am I bitch!? Maaaaaaaaaaaaan you guys suuuck. SuckEEEERRRRRRRS." She was laughing her ass off. All of her insecurities and thoughts floated to the surface and she didn't give a single fuck. Even if she was sober she didn't care. What's said is said and she can't take it back. Today had truly been a taxing day on Miho. Someone who was likely to despise her comrades actually liked them and considered them to be something like a family. Sadly, those feelings were gone. Long gone. Not after they lied. Not after they died. Now that she was drunk, Miho felt waaaayy worse because all of this inky sad stuff was on her mind. It sucked but hey, she embraced that stuff usually.

She heard the doors open and from the corner of her eye, she caught a man in black walking over to the bar. She slowly sat up straight. Her head tilted as she lazily blinked at the man. He seemed interesting so she stared at him for a few moments. He wasn't shady or anything but he was moving and that was interesting enough to her. She couldn't see his face. Even when she squinted her eyes and tried to focus, she couldn't get a good look at his face. However, she did notice a very, very cute, confident smile. It reminded her of a certain arrancar she was missing a lot right now. Kouen had a confident smile and this guy's smile reminded her so much of him. Even if it wasn't him, she just wanted to sit next to him. Hm... Sit next to him. Was that too much to ask?

Miho wrestled herself free from Nijuu's hug and stood up, wobbling a bit. Miho quickly braced herself against the table and in all her hot-waitress-glory, she walked over to the man with the confident smile. Her cheeks were stained red from the alcohol and smile she'd seen. Heh. Smile. She hated smiles. Hated it. Yet...This one. She loved it. It felt like Kouen's and even if it wasn't, just it looking like Kouen and reminding her of the sweet boy was enough for her. When she finally made it over to the man with the black coat and hat, she slung her arms around his neck, leaning all her weight against his back. "Kooooouuen~ It's Miho! Hehehe...Why did you leaaavveeee me? Hm?!" She moved her head over to get a better look at the man's face. She'd called him Kouen but maybe she was deluded and drunk. He would certainly smell the alcohol lingering from her breath.

"I've always loved that smile of yours, tiger~ Brings back memories...ahahaha~!" she said, lightly poking his cheek. Miho started to giggle. She was so drunk that she even started to think it was Kouen even though it probably wasn't! "I caaaame back you know..." She pouted like a little girl at him. "They told me you and Chisoku were dead but but but I said NOPE!...But I didn't see you ssso I got suuuper uh-set" she said slurring the last word. 'Upset'. That's what she was. No. More. She was more than upset. She was devastated. "Wh-Whydja leave me Kouen. Oh Did I tell you that smile is to die for, idiot~? Hmm.." She slung her head over and buried her head into his neck. She was quite obviously making a scene but she didn't care. Miho was drunk. "Hummm....I'm drink. I had lots with Nijuu ova' there. He's still around but he's SUCH a liar! So is KUROI! He said...you were gone too. Hahaha... I deserved it I guess. I'm such a rotten bitch.." Drunk words were sober thoughts. It was obvious she was not in a good mood and the more she talked, the worse she felt and started to wisen up. Now, if only she could stand properly and fix herself some coffee..

[Marcelius]

SPOILER: Click to show

{This is a MUST WATCH. It is actually the dream which leads to the rest below, so it is a Required Viewing!}

"SUCK SUCKERS!", Marcelius' once lifeless body...suddenly burst up from the bed. Having slipped into a mini coma, at some point during the last wave of Nachos, the geezer had left his poor comrade to suffer the cheesy tide alone. The dream which he just left...words fail. Clearly the adverse effects of intoxicated 'rest'. Or...so he figured. In truth, Marc was never one to remember his dreams...was that the kind of insanity that went only while he tried to rest?! Sitting upright, having pulled himself from the scratchy fabric, his breathes seemed to echo throughout the room.

Yes, his Gigai chest rose and fell with mighty gasps. His face had the strangest expression upon it, and dripped with stressful sweat. Looking terrified, large eyes popped open as wide as the could...stretching his wrinkles thin. There was no fear in this aura, no, but it was something equally as wicked. It was a hideous confusion that took him, so powerful, that it displaced his being. For the moment, he did not know where he was. That is why he examined the room so feverishly. Causing his sore vision even more suffering. Surrounding his dark blue irises was the harsh contrast of red. Bloodshot and throbbing, his eyeballs seemed to scream in dry agony.

Having glanced around the room, his age and dehydration ruining what chances he had of clear sight, his head suddenly began to spin. Oh it was awful and wretched. All the whirling and the twirling, twisting and turning. His face then adopted a new expression. One which started with the loss of color, not his normal pale color...but the rosey reddish hue that the alcohol had given him. With the life seemingly drain from him, his mouth went agape. In an instant, he snapped back too, and suddenly caught his lips. Something was coming up...and it was not air. He...he needed a bathroom, a sink or something empty. Quick!

Jumping up from the bed, instantly as it were, to the great surprise of his old bones. As soon as he found his feet, the bloodrush found his head. His vision went blurry and the world faded to dark. Normally this might be preferable, allowing him to actually 'see' more clearly. Not this time, oh no, this time the rush hindered his thoughts as well. Taking away his ability to focus, he could not dare to use his gifts. The world was totally, utterly dark. Those watching this moment, unaware of Marcelius internal predicament, would play spectator to his immediate rise...and fall.

With a tremendous thud, he came crashing onto the floor. Face first, limbs splayed. Luckily, the elder was not dead. No, his body was already clamoring to tug and pull itself in a crawl. Soon that crawl lead back to the bedside, and up and up till he was back on his wobbly feet. His face was red from the impact, and his breathes were racing once again. There was no time to dwell on the pain. No no no, iphe still felt his insides roiling. So he set out, wobbling along the terribly uneven floor, having to brace himself with whatever furniture he could find within blind reach. By the time he got around the bed to the otherside of the room where the bathroom door waited, he could see again.

With newfound direction, his troubles seemed lightened! Opening his stride to move quickly to the bathroom, he acted out of haste. Grabbing for the handle, his excitement and tremendous strength in full use, the terrible scraping of crushing metal rang through the room. Anyone around would hear the awful sound of the doorknob being smashed to uselessness. Marc on the other hand, was too distracted to notice the noise. He kept fighting and twisting the latch till it was finally ripped from the wooden body. An excessive show of force had created this plight, and with his throat preoccupied holding back his illness, he needed another way to voice his irritation.

So both hands took a hold of the parallel frames of the door, and held tight. With a sudden burst from his leg, he drove his knee harshly into the oaken material, nearly splintering the door as it burst inward. Violent, brutish, and...totally necessary. "Fuc-Fu...SCUM!" Still riding the rage tsunami that was Nijuu's Empathy, obscenties and hate flowed from his drunken tongue like cries from a newborn. Completely natural. Having carved a portal for himself through the obstruction, he fumbled into the asylum before him. The sickness that spewed from him went unseen...but not unheard. From there, and horrendous racket started up. The wet, nasty sounds of vomiting and retching. The old man was having a hellish time, trying to become master of his body once again. The poison which caused him such suffering, finally being purged.

No matter badly it may have sounded to those outside...it was a hundred times worse for the one inside. Clenching the cold toilet, groping the porcelain god...he heaved a new volley of filth almost on a breath by breath basis. This had been the first time the old soul had been drinking...shit, was it ever? Truthfully, no special recollection remained in his memories...of a time when he enjoyed such stout beverages. Sure he had memories from others of alcohol, that is how he learned to dislike and disapprove of it. He himself...well, if he ever had a drink before, then he had drank enough to make him forget. Honestly, had his other experiences been anything like this one, he would cherish having forgotten them.

Alcohol is worse than death, take it from an expert. There would be no telling how long he would remain in the bathroom, passing in and out of mininaps to restore his energy for the next round of purging. A time would come, when he would both need and crave water with a fierce desire. Coming back from the bathroom, senses still on edge from his whole ordeal, he would linger leaning against the doorpost. Fiddling and fumbling his hands over the strange attire he now found himself in. The small blouse and tight pants barely fit his big build. Even the slightest of movements would have torn the fabric something awful...and he just spent who knows how long, writhing in the bathroom. Needless to say, the shirt was not salvageable...the pants, well, bless the resilience of leather.

Either way, the towering figure came shoveling from the loo. Looking around the room, he expected to find both Nijuu and Rin. They had been here earlier, he could recall them talking of something...but what he did not know. Now it seemed Rin was gone. Before he could call out for her, listen for her music, or even notice if Nijuu was there to supply an answer...the dehydration caught up to him. Lightheaded and woozy once more, his tall body came dropping down to one knee...then both...then he was back on his face. Though his lost thoughts were of worry and fright for his comrades, they were not potent enough to scare him back awake. The big lug was in it now, having falling pray to the vices which plauge these mortal forms. Good news however...maybe he would not remember this time either, once he woke up.

...was he an alcoholic?! *blackout*

[Zou ۞]

The man at the counter draped his arm around Miho, and supported her, in her drunken stupor, toward the couch, gentling moving Nijuu onto the table instead after clearing it. "Eh..fuck..scum....I hate lamps...fucking bubbles everywhere..." Nijuu groaned nonsensically as he was shifted onto the table to rest, and Miho was lain gently upon the couch. "Fucking...ring wraiths...shit balls...." Nijuu kept groaning. "Disappointing...fucking slow...ugh...one more year...third...fuck...too long...extended...scum...dick shits..." Nijuu's words had grown completely incoherent, and within seconds, his consciousness began to clearly fade. He was still grumbling for a while, but when his grumbles mixed in with snores, it became clear he was losing it.

It was then that Marcelius stepped out of the restroom, and then blacked out. He, too, was moved by the polite figure, into a seated position in a wooden chair, head rested. The figure looked around the room. The mess that had been laid by everyone in their alcoholic binging was not unusual, least of all considering that Nijuu was present. He kept groaning to himself as well, while everyone was completely unconscious. "So, you're my replacement, eh?" the figure murmured before Marcelius. "Good...you have a strong heart." The figure approached Nijuu again, looking down at him. With an exasperated sigh, the figure face palmed, and took Nijuu's sake jugs, emptied them into the toilet, and returned.

The figure arrived at last before Miho, caressing her with his eyes, with the most tender gaze, as if from mother doe to newborn stag. The figure leaned over Miho, kissing her forehead, and then stood up again. "I'm glad you feel that way, Miho." the figure said quietly, though perhaps none in the room would hear him. The figure looked around, as if searching for one more. When no one else was found, he started to leave, having had his single glass of brandy already. That said, the figure known as Kouen Akarui left the establishment, the doors swinging shut behind him. There were no witnesses to his appearance, yet the remaining feeling of his presence would linger, and somehow the Segunda's subordinates might be able to tell he had been there.

Kuroi returned hours later, around the time when his subordinates should be waking up, and around the time when they should all be tremendously hungover. The Segunda Espada looked around the room, noting every inch of the damages and of the mess. He was not without his confusion in seeing the clothing changes, but he had more or less expected the scene before him. If anything, it was even a bit tame compared to what Kuroi had actually expected to encounter during his return. He knew that his group was usually closely knit, and in the days of his original Fraccion, they had been quite rowdy altogether. Then again, perhaps the fact that the bill was not going to be as expensive as he thought was a saving grace.

There would be a wicked hangover for everyone as they started to wake up, and Kuroi expected that as well. He himself was rather moody, having not located Kouen, but that just meant that Kouen was onto his presence. Kuroi suspected that in time, Kouen would be the one searching. He needed to gain the upper hand by locating his own Fraccion first. If not, then he could be placed in a rather inconvenient position when attacked. Rather, the search would need to continue and resume. Kuroi did not yet know how to start, which was why he had returned to survey the damages and check up on the status of his subordinates. Looking over all of them, it was clear to him that this was a night that they'd probably rather forget. The first thing however that Kuroi did was approach Miho as she was stirring. He looked down at her.

"Where is your suit?"

[Deleted]

Miho was on cloud nine right about now. Everything about him was just so much like Kouen...even drunk she could tell that it was his warmth and his warmth alone. No one else could make her feel like that. Mmmm... maybe it was the alcohol? Perhaps. Just a bit. But Miho felt like she was truly in Kouen's arm and she just wanted to stay there. Ha. Was this what it was like to mourn over someone you truly cared for? Miho felt like someone tore open her chest cavity and just... left the pitiful insides open for the whole world to see. Maybe she was delusional? She missed him so much that she was imagining he was there? Fuck. She was really drunk. She even knew it but she was just letting everything else take it's course of action; not caring to interfere too much or take anything into her hands.

She looked up at him. Looked up at the man who had his arm slung around her. The man that was currently supporting her. It looked so much like him. So much like him! Miho sighed, her head dropping in exhaustion. The toxic ways of alcohol were getting to her. She just wanted to sleep now. She felt this man kiss her forehead and it almost kind of made her snap into reality. The sensation of his lips on her forehead. That was something he'd do. It really was something he'd do. It wasn't only that, but her heart genuinely felt like it was with Kouen's at the moment. "I'm glad you feel that way, Miho." Miho held onto his hand. "Noo... Don't leave me agaaain, idiot.." That was her nickname for him.. and she meant it with as much affection as she could muster.

Miho blacked out after she spoke and just as quickly as he came, he was gone. Several hours later, she stirred about allowing a groan to escape her lips as the hangover would hit her with something fierce. Eyelids slowly peeled themselves open, squinting at the lights for a moment. It had to be slow. Too fast and it'll just be too bright for ya. Miho almost wanted to shut her eyes closed again but she couldn't because her head hurt like crazy. Her mouth felt so dry. Oh my god. Water. She needed a hell of a lot of water. Like right now. Needed it NEEDED it. Miho slowly rose to a seated position. She hissed as fingers threaded themselves through dark, ravenous locks, pushing them back. She looked around....Was fucking Marcelius wearing her clothes? How did he get them on!?... How did she get HER'S off?! .......She didn't wanna know.

"Where is your suit?"

Her tired scarlet pair rose to her boss... and her gaze was as venomous as ever. Kouen was here. You didn't need to tell her that. Traces of his presence lingered. Miho could feel it. He was here. She knew it. He knew it... and she knew he knew it. Her eyes would tell him just a few powerful words: "Untrustworthy". Miho knew 100% for a fact. Kuroi was a liar. Her boss lied to her. She came here on a clean slate, absolutely ready to follow Kuroi everywhere and anywhere and carry out despair in his name (with destruction of course) and he lied to her. He probably had his reasons but... why did she have to find out like this? She stood up, walking herself over to the bar and getting three tall glasses of water and three glasses full of raw egg yolks; the greatest hangover cure known to man (ooc: I told you guys I'd do this. LOL). She quickly piled it onto a tray and brought it over to her comrades. Hey, she looked like a waitress... there was nothing stopping her now, right?

She'd answer Kuroi in a moment but to refrain from being a complete monster to him, she'd take a glass of the egg yolks and drink the whole thing. She cringed and reached for the glass of water and drank it in its entirety like a thirsty animal. "Hn. What's the matter..? Couldn't find him?" she asked, looking at him as she spoke, giving Kuroi her full attention. ".....Well, he was here if that's what you'd like to know. Marcelius is wearing my suit and I don't fuckin' know why..." emphasis on the last part as she reached over to violently pull her boots off of the elderly man; yanking them off aggressively. So she wasn't 100% of a monster anymore. After her concoction she was just 95%. A decent number. Whether she was successful or not, she'd sit back and say a little bit more to Kuroi.

"Dead'? Heheheh.... Wow.. You really had me goin' for a bit, boss."

Miho started. She was aware she might overstep her boundaries with what she might say next but she was downright upset. It was clear Miho truly cherished her former comrades. "Things in the dark always come to light, boss. Did you really think, in all of your flawlessness and perfection that you and Nijuu could keep something like that up? A good liar knows WHEN to lie and that timing is everything because they know that it doesn't stay hidden forever. Oh basic stuff, you know.." Miho became more angry as she spoke. Would Kuroi care? Not a chance in hell. She knew that. It could be heard in her voice. She felt betrayed for sure. She'd always felt that way but it was all out in the open. Kuroi predicted that Miho would be an emotional train wreck if he told her what happened to her comrades... but he didn't think of the repercussions he'd have to deal with when the truth came out. Kuroi would have to deal with the fact that his subordinates found themselves unable to place their trust in him. He'd created a shinigami's weakness when all he had to do was tell her "Kouen's alive and Nijuu's a human and Chisoku is whatever" and refuse to explain more. That was all he had to do. It was so easy and he couldn't do that.

"..Kouen and Chisoku. Why aren't they with us?... Or are you incapable of telling me that?"

[Zou ۞]

OOC: DRAMATIC SOUNDTRACK!

SPOILER: Click to show

{Play this}

An incredible black aura of reiatsu exploded outward from Kuroi's body, creating a column of pure reishi which shot through the ceiling and blasted out the roof of the establishment, leaving a large, gaping hole. The reiatsu funneled forth from Kuroi's entire being, and his eyes narrowed on Miho into a glare. In an instant, she had attained his full, undivided attention. His reiatsu was suffocating and powerful. Perhaps it was because he was displeased over not finding Kouen. Perhaps it was because he was displeased over Miho's words. Regardless of what had displeased the Segunda Espada, it was then, for the first time, that Miho would feel the aura which had made Kuroi the Segunda Espada in the first place. It was filled with unbridled malice and a malevolence which was borderline psychotic. The sheer killing intent behind Kuroi's aura was unrivaled even by Sonken Kouhai, with such terrifying desire for blood that even those used to seeing death would be afraid.

What was more, Kuroi's eyes were glowing an evil red, and everyone in the room was crushed to the floor, gasping for air. He was crushing the entire room, practically suffocating it, sucking it dry of any and all oxygen and ability to breathe. It was not the same as when his aura took the form of ravens and crows. That was simply Kuroi showing off a hint of his killing intent. Here, it was the real thing, and it was so powerful that the entire establishment seemed to have simply been submerged beneath an ocean of darkness and hatred. The reiatsu continued to pour off of Kuroi's body in waves, and even the still sleeping Marcelius would probably be stirred by the intense, violent aura which would suddenly cause agonizing pain far worse than his hangover. It was far worse than Miho's hangover as well, and Nijuu's too. Nijuu too began to stir from Kuroi's aura. Everywhere, black sparks of electricity danced across the room to show that Kuroi's reiatsu had dominated it.

With a continued, unblinking glare, Kuroi spoke coldly, with a strong, stern voice, which filled the room, and yet regardless was surprisingly soft considering the aura which pulsated from his soul. "Don't make me laugh..." Kuroi said, pulling no punches even with his very first words. "A leader is a leader because his subordinates trust and do not question his judgment. A team functions because there is mutual understanding of an objective. A member of a team is not compromised by emotions as you are now when working with the others. You put your comrades at risk by bringing such weakness into the field." Rather than defend his actions, Kuroi went immediately on the attack, aggressively pinning on Miho fault for her emotional output at a time when they were on a mission. He was not pleased at all with the fact that she was confronting him about this, nor about having missed Kouen when he had gone looking.

"Lie...?" Kuroi continued. "I did not lie." At last, he began to defend his actions. Here, the full truth would come out. "The former Numero, Kouen Akarui, was dead already the moment I was the one chosen to terminate the traitor to Las Noches and Espada-killer known as Zarpa 2-6. There is nothing left of Kouen Akarui but a walking corpse, a collateral piece to be turned into ashes." This was truly how Kuroi regarded Kouen. He was a traitor. He was nothing but scum. Very, very dead scum. It was something that Nijuu would say, and in this case it held absolute and total truth. There was nothing which could be said for Kouen anymore, after the things that he had done. He was a traitor whose very existence was nothing but mockery to Las Noches and to the Segunda Espada, and Kuroi knew that it was his duty and destiny both to purge Kouen from this life and any others subsequent to it.

"You...who left of your own accord for several years without a word...who abandoned your comrades silently...have no claim to information about what became of them." Kuroi accused coldly, piercing Miho in the heart with his words, a sharply refined sword for causing pain to the soul. "It was the lack of presence of their comrades, one by disappearance, and one by treachery, that led Chisoku to have his throat ripped out by the Gotei Thirteen's Captain Commander, Kyousou Ningen, and led Nijuu to utilize Saigo No Houmen and sacrifice his Arrancar powers in order to provide time to escape. A good soldier, Miho Shoga, knows that to disappear in the midst of war or battle is treason. A good comrade, Miho, knows that to disappear wordlessly is selfish, cowardly, and compromises the mission. So you wanted to get stronger? A competent soldier would have known when to do so. Did you even have a reason at the time? ...Or were you incapable of telling us that?"

Kuroi turned from Miho after those words, letting them hang in the air. His reiatsu faded away, for it had been blaring that entire time. It disappeared, simmering down, and his aura calmed itself. The room settled again, and all would be able to come to their senses and breathe, though admittedly the inkeeper, bartender, and maids in the room were all unconscious as a result of Kuroi's power. Had he focused it to that degree for even seconds longer, they would be dead. Nijuu was stirring, though he was barely able to stand, in part because of his hangover, in part because of disorientation from Kuroi's sickening aura. Marcelius and Miho, like Nijuu, would find the same effects, and the desperate need for oxygen, as they would have been unable to breathe during his speaking. Additionally, their hangovers were a lot worse as a result. That said, Kuroi noted that Marcelius was wearing Miho's clothes.

"Marcelius." Kuroi called, attempting to seize the attention of his hungover Fraccion member, who would certainly have been stirred by all that had just transpired. It was likely that Marcelius would be able to hear Kuroi, the Segunda reasoned, given that Kuroi had focused on him to call to him. He did not know what to say about the attire which Marcelius wore, however, and so he simply decided to inform Marcelius that the Fraccion's suit was missing. "Marcelius." Kuroi repeated, just to be clear. "You lack..." Suddenly, Kuroi noticed something on one of the shelves. A certain dip which he was a great fan of, and did not usually find in Hueco Mundo. It caught his attention immediately, and in the middle of his sentence, he cut himself off to say its name. "Salsa." Kuroi went to get the salsa. However, to Marcelius, disoriented and hungover, probably only able to half pay attention, it was unlikely that his mind would make the connection to Kuroi's words, and it was more likely that he would have heard and interpreted his boss as having said one thing to him, and one thing only, of great shock.

Marcelius. You lack salsa.