Getting To Know You (Solo/Side Chapters)

[Chapter 1]


Like a ghoul rising from its grave, Aya reluctantly sat up and crossed her legs underneath her. Slouching forward, she stared at the blank wall of the Fifth Division barracks wondering if she should bother getting out of her futon for the day. She could probably stay in bed – Shinigami were often  harsh, but like Humans, all a girl had to do sometimes was act cute and the men would let her get away with just about anything. It was already late afternoon, though, and even though she’d been trying to sleep since sun-down, the dark circle under her left eye signified it hadn’t been a very restful experience.  

Finally finding the will to stand up, Aya cradled her throbbing stomach with one arm and staggered over toward the perpetrator. The typical-looking Japanese katana rested against the far wall of the room, appearing completely harmless while not in the hands of a competent wielder. Aya knew differently, however, and raised a bare foot that threatened to stomp the blade in half.

"If you’re not going to at least tell me your name-"

A pause – then as her expression softened, Aya lowered her foot. Sighing an expletive, she grabbed hold of the Zanpakuto and carried it to a cushion on the floor. Grabbing a small casing, she sat with – and drew the weapon from its sheath while gazing upon its fading luster with a look of regret. Setting it gently in her lap, she opened the casing and retrieved what looked like a small white ball attached to a short stick. Ever so gently, Aya tapped this item against the blade of her Zanpakuto to leave a small amount of powder over its surface. Taking her time, Aya then used a handkerchief to stroke the blade on each side, always going up from the back side so as not to cut herself. It was a tedious cleaning process, but Aya knew that if she was careless, the sword would remind her very painfully of her mistakes. It always had.

Once she’d finished the polishing, Aya used a separate handkerchief soaked in a type of mineral oil and again caressed her Zanpakuto. It was then that she began to speak; softly, as though absentmindedly talking to herself, she began to discuss her reasoning for treating her Zanpakuto so poorly, and her plans for the future as a Shinigami. Aya didn’t have anyone she considered a friend, so she confided in her Zanpkuto – often using it like a diary of sorts. Even though it rarely gave her any response – and never in words - she knew it was always listening, and could feel the connection they shared.

For now, that was enough.