33 Chapter 33
Power swelled around her, thick swaths of flickering blue that distorted the air, echoing the groaning of the wood and earth beneath her. Tiny fissures began to form, no more than hair lines in the rock, but growing with each passing second, a testament to her might and something that she wished that she never had.
Her expression shifted, the subtlety found in the wrinkling of her brows too inconspicuous for anyone to notice, not even herself.
Staring at Starrk the hollow she had chanced upon, for once she found comfort in her ability. The very same ability that had caused her to be so alone, no fellow hollow able to withstand it for too long. In this regard, Starrk'was different, and that was enough for her.
Solitude.
Isolation.
Loneliness.
She couldn't describe just how unbearable it was living day by day with only the company of the wind and rain; the constant patter and howls offset only by the sole flame lit within a high-mountain-side cave. Gradually, she had grown used to it, her decadent life of protecting those she had not once spoken to for fear of killing them. That was how it always should have had been, and yet something changed within that dreary mountain side. The introduction of a concept so foreign that she had never considered it.
Family.
She had one now. She wasn't alone anymore.
Resolve setting, she moved towards the exit of the little cave at the mountain-side, hands parting the thatch entrance to reveal the bright moon of the sky. Even now she could feel it, the spiritual pressure of the Shinigami locking onto hers. They would be in the area within minutes if not seconds.
To protect the one behind her, she had to go and find a place far, far from here.
"Wait!"
Her hands balled into fists, the sound of his voice a stark reminder of what she now had, what she didn't want to lose. Therefore, she disappeared in the next moment, the storm of wind left in her wake parting the very clouds as a comet-like radiance traversed the skies.
Glancing back at the distant mountain behind her, a calmness worked its way up over her face, a hand pulling up a fabric of cloth around her neck which she used to cover up her mouth and nose. It wasn't exactly something that she needed to do, but there was just a vague sense of reminiscence attributed with the action as if trying to make up for the mask that was no longer there.
A howl echoed in the distance, the sound of a wolf crying at the moon.
They were pack animals, but every once in a while, shunned solitary wolves hunt alone.
Her hair billowed in the breeze, the fierceness in her gaze not an expression she generally wore as there had once been no meaning between life or death for her. Yet not anymore.
The gun carried on her waist, a revolver-type pistol, soon found its way into her palms, her eyes narrowing at the dozen or so figures fast approaching her. From the energy she was releasing to match theirs, they wouldn't be Shinigami if they couldn't sense and apprehend her.
They donned their black robes, representations of the end of life; Reapers that ferried and oversaw the balance of souls. It was only just recently that a few began to wear white overcoats, some form of higher Shinigami called 'Captains'. She could care less what they were, and even less for whatever Shinigami created the Hollow Classification System.
As far as she was concerned, Hollows were just Hollows, the convenience in using the Shinigami's Classification system only good for determining levels of power.
From the moment she had spotted them, they had already spotted her, the dozen or so Shinigami first setting up a perimeter around her before three approached all wearing white.
Her brows furrowed, the killing intent she could sense from the Shinigami around her palpable.
"Will you not just leave?" She questioned solemnly while letting her aura erupt around her.
"It's not that simple," a resolute looking Shinigami responded.
Of the dozen or so Shinigami around her, the one who spoke to her appeared to be the leader. He was one of the three Captains that had stepped up to confront her. A man with a rather stoic expression and cropped hair spiked upwards. He had a hand placed lightly over the hilt of the sword slung horizontally over his back and his eyes were narrowed into slits.
His name was Akira, an orphaned sole with no last name. His only redeeming qualities had been his tenacity, conviction, and abundant spiritual power, allowing him to become a Captain-Class Shinigami through the violence of the era. In regards to Shinigami, he could be considered a prodigy.
To Coyote though, she didn't care one bit about the background of her opponents.
"It is that simple," Coyote said flatly in response, a sharpness flashing in her pupils.
Akira shook his head, the other two Captains and Shinigami around him remaining silent.
"The existence of hollows itself is abnormal, nothing but vengeful souls led astray from the proper path and feasting on the blood of the innocent."
She had nothing she could say as a response, for that was exactly what most common hollows did. Left with no choice, to sate the emptiness and hunger they felt inside, weaker hollows preyed on Humans, consuming their souls and becoming the monsters spoken of in myth. However, that wasn't the case for all hollows.
"Even still, we Hollows live a life harder than most, the likes of which no Shinigami or Quincy could ever understand. We never wanted to prey on the humans, but those of us consumed with rage, guilt, and obsession after initially dying are unable to control the instinct to kill. We are hunted down anyway just for existing."
In regards to other hollows, even those who eventually maintained enough reason like herself would still have no choice but to continue consuming human souls. After all, they had no other alternatives. A world in which was reserved just for Hollows didn't exist.
"And that is why it's best that you should accept your fate," Akira said resolutely. "You all hide in the shadows, trying to stay away from attention yet your existence itself is not compatible with the world."
Saying that, Akira shifted his gaze in the direction Coyote had come from, causing her breath to hitch.
"No matter how much you try to mask their presence with your overbearing spiritual pressure, it's still possible to sense them. There are more of you towards those mountains and they too must perish."
Akira gestured with a hand, ordering for the other Shinigami in the perimeter to go forth.
Yet in the next moment, the spiritual pressure in the area suddenly intensified, a tyrannical might descending forth from the sky in a pillar of azure blue.
"Don't. You. Dare."
Her voice was eerily calm, but beneath it was a wrath the likes of which Hollows were known for. An unbridled fury smashing relentlessly against the gates like the waves over sand. Primal and belligerent, there was a madness within it that reflected in the red almost blackish hue that slowly began to assimilate with her energy.
Akira and the others faltered. In regards to Coyote, she was the only Hollow classified as Vasto Lorde, the pinnacle existence amongst Hollows. No single Captain-Class Shinigami could be her match, and it was with heavy emphasis that all Shinigami had been warned not to apprehend her without sufficient numbers.
In the times before Hueco Mundo, and before the Seireitei, strength was the only justification, the weak left to die. The power level of the Captains of the new era paled in comparison to those of the old: veterans who fought in the war not only against the Quincy, but the earliest Hollows.
Facing the sudden pressure before them, Akira and the others had no choice but to respond in kind.
"Bankai!"
They released the strength Captain-Class Shinigami were known for. That which was stored within their souls and manifested in their blades.
Zanpakuto.
The weaker Shinigami were pushed back by the clash of powers, yet none dared leave. For within the towering azure, they could feel a pair of piercing eyes staring down at them. Any sudden movements would invite only death even with the protection of their superiors.
Akira frowned, expression unsteady, but Coyote didn't even glance at him.
This wasn't something that she wanted to do. No, this wasn't something that she would have had done unless she was forced to.
A thrum resounded from within her, the intensity of her spiritual energy increasing many folds. Unlike most hollows who possessed unique weapons at their disposal, claws, teeth, or other such miscellaneous things, she alone possessed only one method of defence. The root of her existence.
Pure Spiritual Energy.
If a regular hollow only possessed the level of heat similar to a candle, then she was the bonfire that extinguished their light.
Her teeth clenched, her hair whipping back.
Akira and the others glanced at each other, deciding that they couldn't wait any longer. The swords that were once in their hands or sheathed at their sides had long since shifted into a different form. One carried a curved sword, the other a halberd. Akira himself seemed to possess a rather unique weapon, something similar to a chakram exuding an odd glow. Some sort of ability that seemed incomprehensible.
In her eyes however, it all meant nothing.
The gun in her hands disappeared, replaced instead with an empty palm, nails digging into her skin and drawing blood.
It was like an explosion had gone off. A power that threatened to annihilate all of creation congregating in her hand. Reality itself distorted, tendrils of energy forming azure spirals that spread out like a web.
She who was known as the Lone Vasto Lorde hesitated no longer, calling forth the name of an attack she had long since discovered. Its overwhelming might unquestionable.
Her strength funnelled down to a sole point, the pressure building up unimaginable.
Speed. Power.
This attack encompassed all, making it impossible to dodge with the current range of the Shinigami.
The orb in her palm leveled itself forward, her whispered words the last sound any of the Shinigami would hear before being engulfed in a never-ending blue.
"Gran Rey Cero."
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The world shook, dust falling from the cave's roof over head, but he was more concerned about what was going on outside.
From the perspective of his past-self he could feel the varying waves of emotion playing within his mind. Helplessness, uncertainty, and insecurity were the most prevalent, his past-self wanting nothing more than to step out and aid Coyote. However, his past-self couldn't do so when he considered just how much of a liability he was when he could hardly even fight at the moment.
Therefore, he was left stewing alone within the cave, gaze glancing steadily at the distant flash of blue in the horizon. Afterwards there was only silence.
A minute passed followed by another, and just when his past-self felt as if he couldn't take it anymore, a familiar figure emerged from just outside of the cave.
It was Coyote.
She entered silently, a brooding expression on her face as she unceremoniously sat herself down at the distant corner. Her complexion was somewhat pallid, yet he wasn't sure if it was from over exhaustion or something that she was contemplating over. Either way, his past-self decided that he had to do something to at least help ease her nerves.
Stuck watching the events within his past-self's body, he was actually growing curious from the actions of his past-self. Figuratively speaking, he could already determine the differences between them. For one, his past-self appeared more carefree and wasn't restrained by any other responsibilities. Furthermore, differences in strength were already a given, but that was more in part due to his past-self's lack of comprehension to utilize the strength within him.
Presently though, he felt somewhat befuddled when he understood just what exactly his past-self was considering.
Furrowing his brows, his past-self was steadily moving towards the large number of food offerings left behind at the temple by the local humans.
After seeing Coyote and being unable to tell if she was exhausted or not, his past-self had gotten the idea that he could help by replenishing her spiritual reserves. As such, he had gone looking for any spare animal souls he could gift her. However, their current stock had run out and they would have to wait until the humans sacrificed more.
Left at a loss, it was only then that his past-self's eyes landed towards the food offerings. To be fair, food offerings didn't possess souls to begin with, but as they were blessed by the spiritual properties of the human temple, they still offered a meager amount of energy when consumed.
Picking them up into his hands, his past-self began to display culinary skills Shirou never even knew he had. The fruit and berries were squeezed out to make a sweet syrup-like sauce, and the cold meat preserved by the high-altitude temperatures were soon placed over the fire.
Coyote glanced up to watch, seemingly escaping her silent contemplation, but his past-self hardly noticed in his concentration.
All he felt was the determination of making others happy. It was a sort of selflessness that caused something within him to stir, a memory of an unholy fire surfacing in his thoughts.
Lost in the memory, it wasn't until his past-self tentatively placed the food in front of Coyote that he composed himself.
Coyote stared down at the food before a rare confusion surfaced on her face, her brows wrinkling.
"You can eat it," he said somewhat apprehensively. "There are small traces of Spiritual Energy left in the offertory food so it can at least help replenish whatever reserves you lost."
"Hollows don't eat food," Coyote said blankly, however she still reached a hand out.
Mouth opening, she eventually took a bite and began to chew.
Watching her face, it was with a slight disappointment that he realized that nothing about it had changed. From the moment she took the bite and then swallowed, there wasn't really a difference.
Still, some part of his past-self didn't want to accept such an outcome, a pride in one's skill displayed in his voice.
"How is it?" He asked.
Coyote glanced up and only spoke a few words.
"No matter what it is, souls or food, it's all just nourishment," she stated, causing him to deflate somewhat.
"Still," Coyote seemed to struggle with the words. "If you're asking me how it is compared to normal souls, then I can only say one word, Delicious."
Saying that, Coyote took the rest of the prepared meal into her hands and shifted her back towards him, unwilling for him to watch her eat.
He didn't really care much, instead reveling in a small kind of victory.
Like so, the night passed as if nothing substantial had happened. Only in the morning would he realize that everything had changed.
Staring dazedly at the empty cave, he then shifted his gaze to stare at Coyote who even now was tearing down the thatch entrance.
"We're leaving," was all that she said.
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As it would turn out, leaving meant leaving the entire mountainside.
Since the events of the night prior, Coyote had become more and more reserved, staring apprehensively into the sky as if some looming danger was approaching. Imposing on Coyote's good will as his past-self already was, his past-self didn't garner the courage to ask what was bothering Coyote so much. Instead, he just went along with everything while trying to make sense of the situation.
Currently the two were walking towards an unknown destination, and at this point, it wasn't hard to tell that even Coyote didn't know exactly where they were going. The only thing that seemed to matter was getting as far away from the mountain-side as possible.
"What about the other Hollows?" he ended up asking.
"…"
She was hard pressed to answer, yet that in itself was telling enough.
He closed his mouth, looking back towards the distant mountain before letting out a sigh. As much as he wanted to do something, he understood that he didn't have the ability to.
"They will leave eventually," Coyote spoke pensively. "They will sense my absence and not have any other purpose in remaining there."
Their protection was gone. To many Hollows it just meant that the cycle of seeking a new haven would only continue. However, it was too bitter to imagine just how many would perish for the sole crime of existing.
Through the eyes of his past-self, he was appalled at this realization; the feeling mutual between his past and present-self. It was a type of resonance that made him realize that despite their differences, his past-self was still him.
"If you think that its wrong of me to do this, that it's selfish, then get stronger," Coyote spoke from in front of him. "That form of yours, that power within you, with it you might be able to make a difference."
The sound of her steps on the gravel road echoed in the silence, the profundity of her sentence creating a solemn air. He didn't speak, sensing that Coyote was far from finished as she pulled slightly ahead.
"As you are now though, I won't allow you to fight."
"But-"
Coyote shook her head, pausing in her steps to stare back at him somberly.
No words needed to be said to convey her intentions. It was a mix of hesitation, fear, and bitterness. Coyote already understood that what she was doing would already be hard to accept for him, but she still did so anyway. The reason itself was evident.
She chose him alone over the others, and this realization was enough to stop any words of protest threatening to spew from his mouth. Instead, a desire began to well up from within him. Something that the future Vasto of White knew all too well.
A desire to save.
To be an Ally of Justice. A Hero.
To change the current situation for the Hollows, Coyote's method was right. He had to get stronger before trying to do anything.
"I understand," he said resolutely, this one answer unknowingly granting Coyote the greatest amount of relief.
She nodded her head before wordlessly trudging on, lowering her pace so that he could walk by her side. It was a picturesque sort of scene, the kind Coyote could have had never imagined in her life, and as such she cherished it.
Their figures gradually began fading in the distance, passed the forests, and passed the mountains and hills, the two journeyed. In regards to nourishment, although Coyote said it didn't matter what sort of food they ate, she had found herself more and more inclined to eat the still spiritually imparted food he made.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, until finally Coyote decided to settle themselves down near a fledgling settlement that was more of a hamlet than a village. Based on the name the local humans called it, the settlement was called Karakura.
The area Coyote chose to settle in herself was at a temple in the distant forest adjacent to Karakura. In this way, it was possible to once more receive offerings from the humans and maintain a lifestyle free from hunting them. Doing so would inadvertently lead a trail right to them so Coyote had always been hesitant. Moreover, he never would have had condoned such a thing either.
Just to make for certain that their location would be safe, Coyote began crafting special markings into the ground reminiscent of something she had once seen.
"Spiritual markings," Coyote explained to him. "I'm not really sure how they work, but some humans blessed with spiritual awareness known as Onmyouji had developed a method to prevent spiritual energy form leaking out. It was said to be used to trap demons, but who would have had known that it was then used to aid them."
"Then this area will be safe?" He asked.
Coyote hesitantly nodded. "Unless they get close, it will be difficult to find this location. It should have had been the same for the mountain-side cave, but,"
Coyote cut herself off, yet after understanding more about the situation regarding Hollows in the past, it wasn't that difficult to comprehend what had happened. It was because of him and the fact that Coyote had brought him to the mountain-side location, leaving a trail for the Shinigami to have had followed.
Using this same principle, it was also probably the reason why Coyote didn't bother traveling at a faster pace; opting to travel by foot lest they leave behind any spiritual signs in the wild.
"Then all that happened in the past, it was because of-"
Coyote placed a hand on his shoulder, not saying anything and simply frowning. It wasn't good to dwell on the past. What mattered was the present.
His mouth shut itself naturally, prompting Coyote to nod.
"Stay here for a bit, and work on your abilities. I'm going to do a quick check of the area."
Slinging on her grey overcoat, she vanished towards the direction of the forest, leaving him alone. He furrowed his brows, raising his arms up to stare at his palms. It was all too frustrating.
No matter what he had done in the months Coyote had spent attempting to train him, he couldn't get a grasp on how to use his powers. The feeling was if it was just out of reach, making it all the more irritating.
Understanding the emotions that his past-self was feeling, Shirou didn't exactly know what the problem was either. Waking up in Hueco Mundo, his strength came naturally to him just as it did for Shinigami with abundant spiritual energy. Then again, maybe he was simply missing something.
In regards to his past-self, the biggest mystery revolved around the seemingly unimaginable spiritual power residing within his past-self's body. Fingers outstretched and palm open, his past-self attempted to will his spiritual energy to manifest.
At the same time though, words flashed across Shirou's mind without any context as he thought on the matter, a jumbled pile of information he could barely sort out.
A manifestation of the Soul.
Something which rewrites the laws of reality itself.
His head began to hurt, until finally he felt as if it would explode when a familiar sentence shot to the forefront of his mind.
A will.
A mantra.
An incantation.
"I am the Bone of my Sword."
His past-self was panting at this point, the connection between the two reaching its highest resonance as just briefly the shadow of a world of flame appeared in his eyes. A great forge containing a vast armoury and a desolate hill. Subsequently, both he and his past-self fell unconscious on the spot.
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To say Coyote panicked when she had returned was no understatement. It felt as if a Shinigami had stabbed her with a blade with how fast she reacted, her hands balling into fists so tightly that they paled. The sac of food and offertory animal souls that she had just pilfered from the local temple and was slung over her back fell to the ground with a thud.
No. No.
Her teeth clenched, feet carrying her forward towards the sprawled body ahead of her. Fortunately, when she got close enough she realized that Starrk was still breathing, yet this fact didn't do anything to alleviate her vigilance. Instead, she stared wearily at the area around her, unsure if the cause of Starrk's current state was do to an enemy attack. After all, she wouldn't put it past those Shinigami to find a way to lure her out.
Inspecting him, she noticed that he was uninjured. Aside from the discomfort she could see from his face, everything seemed normal.
Relief flooded her in an instant.
Staring at herself, it was only then that she realized that she was trembling. Taking in a breath, she gradually calmed down. Eventually, the shuddering of her body came to a halt before she tentatively took Starrk into her arms protectively.
She was never used to showing her emotions; more precisely, she had no experience whatsoever, but here and now, she pursed her lips in worry, eyes shifting downcast.
She didn't know what she should do. However, she knew that it was probably best to move to a safer location. With that in mind, she found herself moving in the direction of the temple where she wanted to place Starrk into one of the side rooms of the fenced establishment. She didn't care if it was occupied or not, or even if she interfered with the Humans. All that mattered was that she could ensure that Starrk stayed in a spiritually potent zone, and temples and such religious buildings were the most efficient.
With that thought in mind, and only Starrk's health up for consideration, she trudged through an entire line of Humans offering prayers to some God she didn't take the time to know.
Humans couldn't see them, so all that they felt as she passed the gated entrance was a strong breeze. For the few that were directly in her path, she only considered it as divine intervention or retribution for daring to impede her. As such, numerous individuals were sent sprawling to the ground without any warning or cause. Of course, some were injured while others were just fine. However, even the injured somehow considered the matter in a positive light.
"T-The wind God has touched me. I-I've been blessed!"
"I have too!"
With how excited the locals were acting, it wasn't long before a riot began occurring at the temple's entrance although by then, she had long since left.
Finding a side temple that was generally used as storage, she slowly placed Starrk down before finding herself a lone corner to sit at. Her gaze was fixed on him the entire time, nothing but him filling up her mind and priorities. She didn't know what she would do if he actually died on her. In that case, it would be too cruel.
The world allowed her to meet him, and allowed her to experience what companionship meant; the idle days she had spent by his side her most cherished memories. Hell, because of him she could never look at Human food in the same way again without her stomach grumbling at her to consume it.
If the world took him away from her now, then she would rather the world burn at the cost of her own life.
There was a reason she had taken Starrk and left the mountain-side cave so hurriedly all those months back. She was trying to avoid the consequence of her actions. The Shinigami of back then were Captain-class and as such should have had possessed enough capability to attempt to apprehend her. However, in her eyes regular Captains and Shinigami were nothing more than larger animals. What she feared instead were the leaders of these animals; one who controlled a flame that threatened to extinguish her very existence. This alone was the reason why her life would be at risk if she ever decided to go out in the open.
Moreover, as she had already killed three Captain-Class Shinigami, she knew that the Head of the Shinigami wouldn't let this matter go. More so when she considered that she was a Hollow, an enemy of the Shinigami.
Pulling her legs to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her knees and anxiously waited.
Her lone figure insignificantly small within the temple side house.
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Its impossible for something that's eternal to exist.
Works of art, and ideologies similarly deteriorating with time; fading away until they are nothing more than a memory, a history of the past. In which case, the choices one makes and the outcome of such choices could be seen in the same regard.
Time was all encompassing. No matter how durable a sword was, it too would wear away with use, the blade chipped and cracked, dull and brittle.
That was why the heart that had never recognized what he had lost eventually noticed it and fell into despair.
Hollows themselves were souls born from negative emotions like grief and rage. Yet at the same time, the strength of a Hollow was determined by their soul in a fashion identical to Shinigami. Those with originally strong spiritual awareness as Humans had a higher probability of becoming a Shinigami then those that didn't.
Yet what was a Reality Marble?
It was the very manifestation of one's soul. A magic so distorted that it imposed upon the order of the world. Just imagining its strength alone was hard to fathom.
And yet, it existed within the body of one individual soul.
Staring at the world before him, Shirou was left in a daze, the sheer heat around him forcing him to cover his eyes from the glare. Even then, when he finally adjusted to the lighting it was to see sword after sword after sword.
Staring closely, it became clear to him of one fact. He had seen this world before. His very own inner world where he had met Kyouka, Gae Bolg, and the others. Only now, they weren't around. Instead, only swords and barren ground lay near him.
"This was the Hell that you had walked into."
A voice spoke to him, but when he tried to locate it, all he saw was a vague shadow blurred by smoke and a shower of sparks.
He furrowed his brows, wanting to call out, but before he could, a striking sound entered his ears. The noise of a hammer meeting an anvil. The forging of a sword.
"You wanted to protect others, to help them, but the price itself was too high."
His head zipped behind him, yet by then the shadow of before had long since disappeared, replaced instead by a monolithic gear spinning in the sky.
"You realized too late that there would be no ending, no sign of her ever again. And when the sword finally shattered, only this Hell was left as your namesake."
He felt a coldness well up from within him, the words piercing into him like knives that caused him to stagger. His eyes narrowed and he was soon glaring, but his body had long since stiffened. Something within him was reacting at a subconscious level.
"Who are you!" He muttered out.
Suddenly a face appeared before him, grayed hair and silver eyes staring back at him as a mocking yet tired voice replied.
"I am you. At least a version of you that somehow got dragged into this world."
He faltered, his mind blanking as a part of him adamantly refused the grey-haired man's very existence.
"If you don't remember, then perhaps I can show you."
It was then that the smoke cleared, the ambiguity surrounding the landscape similarly fading away to reveal a single scene.
The reintroduction of a landscape and concept he knew of, but had long since forgotten.
"Look well, for this won't be the last you'll see it. The end of your path."
He wanted to deny it. To say that what was before him was false.
But he knew that he couldn't. Not when the memory itself surfaced in his mind with a jolt.
The Hill of Swords,
And the Wrought Iron Hero who died upon it.
