Post by Taihō Kasumi’Oji on Aug 6, 2015 13:52:25 GMT -5
OOC: I apologize for the blah-ness of the post. At least, it seems that way to me. I kinda just made it all up on the fly. Anyway, I would like for any excess TP not used for learning Soulbind to be converted to CTP. Thank you.
IC:
It had been a long time since Taihō Kasumi’Oji had entered the Garden. Buried deep within the Kasumi’Oji manner, the Garden was not so much a place as it was a thing; a living, breathing creature, created ages ago by Taihō’s distant ancestors. The Garden had seen the millennia pass with their slow, grinding inevitability, had witnessed the rise and fall of great leaders and sniveling cowards, and had even endured the fall of the family that spawned it. And now, it was witnessing the rise and rebirth of that family, and it was glad. For you see, the Garden was not just a place; not only a collection of plants and animals. It was aware, sentient, like a minor god bound in its bones. Well, shoots. Bound in its shoots.
Taihō Kasumi’Oji, the current head of her family, found herself hesitating as she prepared to enter the Garden. She had brought with her only her Zanpakuto, Mikadzuki, and a small pack with a week’s worth of food and water packed inside. For once, she was without her trademark body-concealing trench coat, as it was simply to impractical to wear inside the thickly overgrown and torturously hot jungle she was about to enter. Besides that, she would be alone on this journey, with the only eyes resting upon her body being those of the Garden itself. And it had already seen much, much more of her than a bit of exposed flesh.
So it was that Taihō Kasumi’Oji, dressed only in practical clothing for a hike through a vast jungle, accompanied only by her sword and equipped with only the bare minimum required to survive for a week, set out into the Garden. The last time she had entered this place, it had been to acquire her Bankai. It had been her sister Azumi who had suggested that Taihō seek the Garden’s council. A dialogue with the vast and ancient intelligence living there could provide the insight needed to master the pinnacle of Shinigami power. That was what Azumi had said, all those years ago, but the result wasn’t what you could call a dialogue. More of a shouting match, and Taihō pried what she wanted, what she needed, from her sword and from the Garden itself. The experience changed her, changed all of them. Event he might Garden had trembled that day. And now, it trembled again as Taihō set foot upon it’s soil. Just as before, Taihō was embarking on this journey in search of greater power. A power beyond Bankai.
Rumors of such a thing had swirled for ages. The mythical third stage of Zanpakuto Release. For as long as Taihō had been a Shinigami, she had heard such stories, and dismissed them as flights of fantasy. By definition, Bankai was the “Final Release”. It was the highest point a Shinigami could hope to achieve. Now, however, as the head of a vast criminal empire, odd stories had begun to make their way to Taihō’s ear. Stories involving Sozen Kuchiki, the head of the illustrious Kuchiki family. Nothing could be proven, of course, but there were many who claimed to have, one way or another, witnessed the Kuchiki head using a power that was like a Zanpakuto, but not a release. At first, Taihō ignored these claims, until she began to notice how eerily similar the reports were. Although minor details shifted, the core of the reports always remained the same, and this spoke to some part of Taihō’s mind. Perhaps it was her psychosis talking, but it lead Taihō to wonder if there might be something to this rumor.
It took Taihō a day and a half to find her way to the largest three in the Garden. Notes left behind by past generations of Kasumi’Oji clansmen, as well as the research of Azumi Kasumi’Oji and Taihō herself, indicated that the bulk of the Garden’s personality and intellect lived inside this tree. It was the brain that controlled the massive, sprawling body. Taihō ate a small meal, then immediately went to work, sitting cross-legged facing the mammoth tree, with her Zanpakuto laying across her lap. Her eyes closed, Taihō let her breathing slow until it almost stopped, and she entered an almost trance like state, entering into her Inner World.
It was the same as always. A small domed canopy, supported by pillars set equidistant around it’s perimeter, covering an intricate and ornate white metal table. Two chairs were arranged opposite each other around the table, with a small china cup set at either chair. The cups were filled with tea, and there was a modest tea pot at the center of the table, should the cups run empty. Taihō had never known why there would be tea served in her inner world, but she had long ago given up on trying to understand it. Instead, she sat down, facing her Zanpakuto Spirit.
Mikadzuki was a study in contradictions. A beautiful woman obsessed with death and destruction, she wore a Victorian style outfit, and carried herself with a sense of poise and dignity, yet her words were caustic, and her eyes were alight with the same mad hunger for violence that Taihō often found herself struggling to tamp down. Taihō had once thought that Mikadzuki was all of her rage, her hatred given form. However, over time she came to realize that this was not the case. Mikadzuki was something else, something far more precious. She was Taihō’s pain, a raw nerve exposed to the world. She was everything Taihō had lost, condensed into a single point. The only thing she knew was suffering, and she existed to distribute it upon those around her with vigor.
“It’s been a long time, Taihō-sama.” Mikadzuki began in a venomously polite tone, her expression somewhere between lust and malice. She was already seated at the table, her hands resting in her lap, her posture and demeanor being that of a proper lady. “As I recall, the last time you spoke to me in this place, you were in search of my Bankai. And I must say, I am disappointed with how infrequently you’ve used it sense. I can count the number times you’ve let me loose on the fingers of one hand. Honestly, why did you seek such a power if not to use it?”
“I required it in order to protect my family.” was Taihō’s simple, and uncharacteristically honest response. Ordinarily, Taihō would answer with a cryptic half-truth, or flatly lie in order to lead her conversational partner down a path of her own choosing; however, it didn’t make much sense to lie to your own soul, now did it? Mikadzuki was one of the only people Taihō was completely honest with, and that was simply because she was the only being whom Taihō knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could trust.
Ah, yes. Your family. And how did that work out for you? Your sister has vanished, most of the family is still in hiding, and your clan is still considered weak. I don’t see what good my Bankai has done you.” As she spoke, Mikadzuki narrowed her eyes slightly, and a palpable aura of hostility rose around her. Taihō, however, was unperturbed. She took a quite sip of her tea, then shot Mikadzuki a look that could freeze blood in an instant. “These things are all true. And irrelevant. I needed the power, and I acquired it. What I do with it now is up to me.” For a stunned moment, Mikadzuki was silent, before a slight chuckle escaped her lips.
“You know, I think I liked you better when you were that angry little girl who came to me in her thirst for revenge. I still remember the look on your face. Cold, ruthless, but with a fire inside that burned brighter than a million suns. Oh, I remember that look, those eyes that could devour worlds, those hands soaked in blood. You used to be a monster, Taihō-sama. You used to be beautiful. But now…you’re just scared.”
Taihō was silent for a moment, as a shadow of what she used to be darkened her face for a moment. She remembered it as well. The fear. The anger. The hatred. The power. She remembered when she killed just by walking into the room. She remembered watching in glee as her captors dissolved into a black sludge before her very eyes. Mikadzuki was right. She had been strong then. Stronger in many ways than she was now. However, Taihō had been forced to lock that part of her away if she wanted to rejoin her family. And so she slowly, painfully, pushed the madness in her mind away, and sealed it up tight so it could never get out. She still heard it at times, still felt the rippling psychosis running through her, but that wasn’t important. What mattered was that she was in control of her madness, not the other way around.
“I’m not here to reminisce with you, Mikadzuki. I’m here to become stronger.” Those words seemed to echo around the table, and Mikadzuki visibly flinched as Taihō spoke. She took a sip from her tea, however, and seemed to regain her composure, her gaze locking with Taihō’s as she asked with acidic innocence, “You already have my Bankai, Taihō-sama. As much as I would love to see what havoc you could wreak with an even greater power, I have nothing to offer you. There is nothing more to take from me.” Taihō heard this, and nodded quietly. It was what she had expected her Zanpakuto to say. Whatever this power was, if it truly existed, than Mikadzuki would certainly not relinquish it freely.
“…I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other. It does neither of us any good.” The moment Taihō spoke those words, everything became still and quite. For a long, long, breathless moment, neither of them moved, and nothing happened. It was as if time had been frozen, as the two women, Shinigami and Zanpakuto Spirit, stared one another down. Finally, the world began to breathe again, and Mikadzuki turned away, her voice simply oozing anger and contempt. “Even if such a power existed, you couldn’t possibly hope to wield it as you are now. You’re much too weak to hold it; even trying would kill you in an instant.”
”You said the same thing when before I took your Bankai from you. Considering you’re nothing but an extension of my soul, you have an odd habit of underestimating what I am capable of.” The moment those words left Taihō’s mouth, Mikadzuki lunged at her, her seven-foot long sealed form inexplicably in her hand. Expecting this, Taihō responded in kind, drawing a representation of her Zanpakuto from the air around her, blocking Mikadzuki’s attack. ”You think I’m underestimating you? Then prove it, Taihō-sama! Take my power from me like you did before! Beat me to the ground and rip my heart, before I kill you!!”
For two days, the sounds of colliding steel echoed throughout Taihō’s Inner World. Taihō was aware of her body wasting away as her will and spirit battled the soul living in her sword, but she couldn’t risk pulling away for even a moment to care for self. As time wore on, it became an increasingly desperate struggle, with both Shinigami and Zanpakuto Spirit showing signs of fatigue and stress. However, it at last became clear that Taihō held the advantage. On the dawn of the third day, Taihō stood over Mikadzuki, the tip of her blade pressed against the Zanpakuto Spirit’s throat. Taihō’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, and her entire body was trembling from the exertion, but she was victorious. ”I have won. Now…I believe you mentioned ripping out your heart?” as she spoke, Taihō traced the blade down Mikadzuki’s neck, between her breasts and over the exact center of her chest. For the first time since Taihō had taken her Bankai from her, Mikadzuki’s eyes were filled with terror. She had forgotten. She had forgotten what it was like when Taihō had pried her Banki from her. She had forgotten the feeling as Taihō flayed her, stripped her of her secrets and her power. She had forgotten what it meant to fear Taihō Kasumi’Oji. ”Taihō-sama…you can’t be serious. If you kill me-“ Taihō pressed her blade forward slightly, until it touched the bone just beneath Mikadzuki’s flesh and ruby red blood gushed out on to the blade. ”I have no intention of killing you. You’re still useful to me. But I am going to make you scream.”
”ENOUGH.” Taihō froze, then smiled a cold, wicked smile as her sword vanished. With an almost casual ease, she turned toward the one that had spoken. Standing just a few feet away was a massive cloaked figure, twelve, thirteen feet tall at the least, it’s body thin yet full of power. A heavy, moss covered hood covered the thing’s head, and two red eyes peered out of the darkness down onto Taihō and Mikadzuki with nothing short of homicidal fury pouring off its body in palpable waves. ”ENOUGH. THIS HURTS ME. NO MORE.” As it spoke, the being took a step forward, and the ground seemed to shudder as it did. Taihō stared back at it with unflinching, unfeeling defiance as she said nonchalantly, ”You have arrived. Good. Now we can get down to business.” she heard Mikadzuki stand behind her, but didn’t turn to face the beaten Spirit. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the being before her: The Garden itself.
”Stop, Taihō-sama. If you go on any further, you’ll die.” Taihō nodded her head softly, as she took a step toward the Garden. It matched her, shaking the entire world with it’s footfall. ”Are you out of your mind? If you hurt it any more, it’s going to kill you!” Taihō chuckled softly, and said ”You sound scared. Aren’t you the one who was threatening to kill me before?” She took another step, then another. Her third step, however, was interrupted by the Garden taking her in one it’s colossal hands, and lifted her high above the ground. It squeezed, like one might squeeze and orange, and a fountain of blood burst from Taihō’s mouth. ”Give me what I want, Mikadzuki. Before we both die.” Mikadzuki’s eyes narrowed. This is exactly what Taihō had done the last time. In order to achieve Bankai, Taihō hadn’t spent centuries training and earning Mikadzuki’s trust. She hadn’t even beat her in battle that time. She just pissed off the Garden enough to cause it to attack, then used that as leverage. It was the most efficient course of action. It was also the most reckless, and it terrified Mikadzuki. For Mikadzuki was what Taihō had lost. She was Taihō’s innocence, the little girl that had been killed so long ago, leaving a monster in her place. And as violent and evil as Mikadzuki was, she would always be that scared little girl on the inside.
” I can’t! It would kill you if I gave you that power. But…there is something I can give you. A taste of what you seek. Now…take it and go! Never bring me back to this place!” Taihō smiled as Mikadzuki spoke those words, and willed herself awake, exiting her Inner World before the Garden could finish her off. Her body was thin, and weak, but Taihō knew better than to stay. She hiked until sunset before pausing to eat another small meal, then continued back out of the Garden the next day. All the while, she could hear her Zanpakuto weeping, weeping in fear, and pain. Taihō could have asked for the power she now held. She could have pulled it free and called it hers slowly, gradually, until she and her sword stood as equals, and Mikadzuki would have gladly relinquished the power of Soulbind. And in time, she would have given Taihō what she truly sought, the power beyond Bankai.
But Taihō had never been a gentle person. She had learned long ago that the weak existed to be trampled by the strong. She had learned that when she had been cast out, discarded by her own family. She had asked for love, begged for acceptance, but received only despair in return. Never again. Taihō had refused to ever feel that despair again. And what else could live in despair’s place, but strength?
IC:
It had been a long time since Taihō Kasumi’Oji had entered the Garden. Buried deep within the Kasumi’Oji manner, the Garden was not so much a place as it was a thing; a living, breathing creature, created ages ago by Taihō’s distant ancestors. The Garden had seen the millennia pass with their slow, grinding inevitability, had witnessed the rise and fall of great leaders and sniveling cowards, and had even endured the fall of the family that spawned it. And now, it was witnessing the rise and rebirth of that family, and it was glad. For you see, the Garden was not just a place; not only a collection of plants and animals. It was aware, sentient, like a minor god bound in its bones. Well, shoots. Bound in its shoots.
Taihō Kasumi’Oji, the current head of her family, found herself hesitating as she prepared to enter the Garden. She had brought with her only her Zanpakuto, Mikadzuki, and a small pack with a week’s worth of food and water packed inside. For once, she was without her trademark body-concealing trench coat, as it was simply to impractical to wear inside the thickly overgrown and torturously hot jungle she was about to enter. Besides that, she would be alone on this journey, with the only eyes resting upon her body being those of the Garden itself. And it had already seen much, much more of her than a bit of exposed flesh.
So it was that Taihō Kasumi’Oji, dressed only in practical clothing for a hike through a vast jungle, accompanied only by her sword and equipped with only the bare minimum required to survive for a week, set out into the Garden. The last time she had entered this place, it had been to acquire her Bankai. It had been her sister Azumi who had suggested that Taihō seek the Garden’s council. A dialogue with the vast and ancient intelligence living there could provide the insight needed to master the pinnacle of Shinigami power. That was what Azumi had said, all those years ago, but the result wasn’t what you could call a dialogue. More of a shouting match, and Taihō pried what she wanted, what she needed, from her sword and from the Garden itself. The experience changed her, changed all of them. Event he might Garden had trembled that day. And now, it trembled again as Taihō set foot upon it’s soil. Just as before, Taihō was embarking on this journey in search of greater power. A power beyond Bankai.
Rumors of such a thing had swirled for ages. The mythical third stage of Zanpakuto Release. For as long as Taihō had been a Shinigami, she had heard such stories, and dismissed them as flights of fantasy. By definition, Bankai was the “Final Release”. It was the highest point a Shinigami could hope to achieve. Now, however, as the head of a vast criminal empire, odd stories had begun to make their way to Taihō’s ear. Stories involving Sozen Kuchiki, the head of the illustrious Kuchiki family. Nothing could be proven, of course, but there were many who claimed to have, one way or another, witnessed the Kuchiki head using a power that was like a Zanpakuto, but not a release. At first, Taihō ignored these claims, until she began to notice how eerily similar the reports were. Although minor details shifted, the core of the reports always remained the same, and this spoke to some part of Taihō’s mind. Perhaps it was her psychosis talking, but it lead Taihō to wonder if there might be something to this rumor.
It took Taihō a day and a half to find her way to the largest three in the Garden. Notes left behind by past generations of Kasumi’Oji clansmen, as well as the research of Azumi Kasumi’Oji and Taihō herself, indicated that the bulk of the Garden’s personality and intellect lived inside this tree. It was the brain that controlled the massive, sprawling body. Taihō ate a small meal, then immediately went to work, sitting cross-legged facing the mammoth tree, with her Zanpakuto laying across her lap. Her eyes closed, Taihō let her breathing slow until it almost stopped, and she entered an almost trance like state, entering into her Inner World.
It was the same as always. A small domed canopy, supported by pillars set equidistant around it’s perimeter, covering an intricate and ornate white metal table. Two chairs were arranged opposite each other around the table, with a small china cup set at either chair. The cups were filled with tea, and there was a modest tea pot at the center of the table, should the cups run empty. Taihō had never known why there would be tea served in her inner world, but she had long ago given up on trying to understand it. Instead, she sat down, facing her Zanpakuto Spirit.
Mikadzuki was a study in contradictions. A beautiful woman obsessed with death and destruction, she wore a Victorian style outfit, and carried herself with a sense of poise and dignity, yet her words were caustic, and her eyes were alight with the same mad hunger for violence that Taihō often found herself struggling to tamp down. Taihō had once thought that Mikadzuki was all of her rage, her hatred given form. However, over time she came to realize that this was not the case. Mikadzuki was something else, something far more precious. She was Taihō’s pain, a raw nerve exposed to the world. She was everything Taihō had lost, condensed into a single point. The only thing she knew was suffering, and she existed to distribute it upon those around her with vigor.
“It’s been a long time, Taihō-sama.” Mikadzuki began in a venomously polite tone, her expression somewhere between lust and malice. She was already seated at the table, her hands resting in her lap, her posture and demeanor being that of a proper lady. “As I recall, the last time you spoke to me in this place, you were in search of my Bankai. And I must say, I am disappointed with how infrequently you’ve used it sense. I can count the number times you’ve let me loose on the fingers of one hand. Honestly, why did you seek such a power if not to use it?”
“I required it in order to protect my family.” was Taihō’s simple, and uncharacteristically honest response. Ordinarily, Taihō would answer with a cryptic half-truth, or flatly lie in order to lead her conversational partner down a path of her own choosing; however, it didn’t make much sense to lie to your own soul, now did it? Mikadzuki was one of the only people Taihō was completely honest with, and that was simply because she was the only being whom Taihō knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could trust.
Ah, yes. Your family. And how did that work out for you? Your sister has vanished, most of the family is still in hiding, and your clan is still considered weak. I don’t see what good my Bankai has done you.” As she spoke, Mikadzuki narrowed her eyes slightly, and a palpable aura of hostility rose around her. Taihō, however, was unperturbed. She took a quite sip of her tea, then shot Mikadzuki a look that could freeze blood in an instant. “These things are all true. And irrelevant. I needed the power, and I acquired it. What I do with it now is up to me.” For a stunned moment, Mikadzuki was silent, before a slight chuckle escaped her lips.
“You know, I think I liked you better when you were that angry little girl who came to me in her thirst for revenge. I still remember the look on your face. Cold, ruthless, but with a fire inside that burned brighter than a million suns. Oh, I remember that look, those eyes that could devour worlds, those hands soaked in blood. You used to be a monster, Taihō-sama. You used to be beautiful. But now…you’re just scared.”
Taihō was silent for a moment, as a shadow of what she used to be darkened her face for a moment. She remembered it as well. The fear. The anger. The hatred. The power. She remembered when she killed just by walking into the room. She remembered watching in glee as her captors dissolved into a black sludge before her very eyes. Mikadzuki was right. She had been strong then. Stronger in many ways than she was now. However, Taihō had been forced to lock that part of her away if she wanted to rejoin her family. And so she slowly, painfully, pushed the madness in her mind away, and sealed it up tight so it could never get out. She still heard it at times, still felt the rippling psychosis running through her, but that wasn’t important. What mattered was that she was in control of her madness, not the other way around.
“I’m not here to reminisce with you, Mikadzuki. I’m here to become stronger.” Those words seemed to echo around the table, and Mikadzuki visibly flinched as Taihō spoke. She took a sip from her tea, however, and seemed to regain her composure, her gaze locking with Taihō’s as she asked with acidic innocence, “You already have my Bankai, Taihō-sama. As much as I would love to see what havoc you could wreak with an even greater power, I have nothing to offer you. There is nothing more to take from me.” Taihō heard this, and nodded quietly. It was what she had expected her Zanpakuto to say. Whatever this power was, if it truly existed, than Mikadzuki would certainly not relinquish it freely.
“…I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other. It does neither of us any good.” The moment Taihō spoke those words, everything became still and quite. For a long, long, breathless moment, neither of them moved, and nothing happened. It was as if time had been frozen, as the two women, Shinigami and Zanpakuto Spirit, stared one another down. Finally, the world began to breathe again, and Mikadzuki turned away, her voice simply oozing anger and contempt. “Even if such a power existed, you couldn’t possibly hope to wield it as you are now. You’re much too weak to hold it; even trying would kill you in an instant.”
”You said the same thing when before I took your Bankai from you. Considering you’re nothing but an extension of my soul, you have an odd habit of underestimating what I am capable of.” The moment those words left Taihō’s mouth, Mikadzuki lunged at her, her seven-foot long sealed form inexplicably in her hand. Expecting this, Taihō responded in kind, drawing a representation of her Zanpakuto from the air around her, blocking Mikadzuki’s attack. ”You think I’m underestimating you? Then prove it, Taihō-sama! Take my power from me like you did before! Beat me to the ground and rip my heart, before I kill you!!”
For two days, the sounds of colliding steel echoed throughout Taihō’s Inner World. Taihō was aware of her body wasting away as her will and spirit battled the soul living in her sword, but she couldn’t risk pulling away for even a moment to care for self. As time wore on, it became an increasingly desperate struggle, with both Shinigami and Zanpakuto Spirit showing signs of fatigue and stress. However, it at last became clear that Taihō held the advantage. On the dawn of the third day, Taihō stood over Mikadzuki, the tip of her blade pressed against the Zanpakuto Spirit’s throat. Taihō’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, and her entire body was trembling from the exertion, but she was victorious. ”I have won. Now…I believe you mentioned ripping out your heart?” as she spoke, Taihō traced the blade down Mikadzuki’s neck, between her breasts and over the exact center of her chest. For the first time since Taihō had taken her Bankai from her, Mikadzuki’s eyes were filled with terror. She had forgotten. She had forgotten what it was like when Taihō had pried her Banki from her. She had forgotten the feeling as Taihō flayed her, stripped her of her secrets and her power. She had forgotten what it meant to fear Taihō Kasumi’Oji. ”Taihō-sama…you can’t be serious. If you kill me-“ Taihō pressed her blade forward slightly, until it touched the bone just beneath Mikadzuki’s flesh and ruby red blood gushed out on to the blade. ”I have no intention of killing you. You’re still useful to me. But I am going to make you scream.”
”ENOUGH.” Taihō froze, then smiled a cold, wicked smile as her sword vanished. With an almost casual ease, she turned toward the one that had spoken. Standing just a few feet away was a massive cloaked figure, twelve, thirteen feet tall at the least, it’s body thin yet full of power. A heavy, moss covered hood covered the thing’s head, and two red eyes peered out of the darkness down onto Taihō and Mikadzuki with nothing short of homicidal fury pouring off its body in palpable waves. ”ENOUGH. THIS HURTS ME. NO MORE.” As it spoke, the being took a step forward, and the ground seemed to shudder as it did. Taihō stared back at it with unflinching, unfeeling defiance as she said nonchalantly, ”You have arrived. Good. Now we can get down to business.” she heard Mikadzuki stand behind her, but didn’t turn to face the beaten Spirit. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the being before her: The Garden itself.
”Stop, Taihō-sama. If you go on any further, you’ll die.” Taihō nodded her head softly, as she took a step toward the Garden. It matched her, shaking the entire world with it’s footfall. ”Are you out of your mind? If you hurt it any more, it’s going to kill you!” Taihō chuckled softly, and said ”You sound scared. Aren’t you the one who was threatening to kill me before?” She took another step, then another. Her third step, however, was interrupted by the Garden taking her in one it’s colossal hands, and lifted her high above the ground. It squeezed, like one might squeeze and orange, and a fountain of blood burst from Taihō’s mouth. ”Give me what I want, Mikadzuki. Before we both die.” Mikadzuki’s eyes narrowed. This is exactly what Taihō had done the last time. In order to achieve Bankai, Taihō hadn’t spent centuries training and earning Mikadzuki’s trust. She hadn’t even beat her in battle that time. She just pissed off the Garden enough to cause it to attack, then used that as leverage. It was the most efficient course of action. It was also the most reckless, and it terrified Mikadzuki. For Mikadzuki was what Taihō had lost. She was Taihō’s innocence, the little girl that had been killed so long ago, leaving a monster in her place. And as violent and evil as Mikadzuki was, she would always be that scared little girl on the inside.
” I can’t! It would kill you if I gave you that power. But…there is something I can give you. A taste of what you seek. Now…take it and go! Never bring me back to this place!” Taihō smiled as Mikadzuki spoke those words, and willed herself awake, exiting her Inner World before the Garden could finish her off. Her body was thin, and weak, but Taihō knew better than to stay. She hiked until sunset before pausing to eat another small meal, then continued back out of the Garden the next day. All the while, she could hear her Zanpakuto weeping, weeping in fear, and pain. Taihō could have asked for the power she now held. She could have pulled it free and called it hers slowly, gradually, until she and her sword stood as equals, and Mikadzuki would have gladly relinquished the power of Soulbind. And in time, she would have given Taihō what she truly sought, the power beyond Bankai.
But Taihō had never been a gentle person. She had learned long ago that the weak existed to be trampled by the strong. She had learned that when she had been cast out, discarded by her own family. She had asked for love, begged for acceptance, but received only despair in return. Never again. Taihō had refused to ever feel that despair again. And what else could live in despair’s place, but strength?
