Seven Months Ago
The Lord of the Flies
”Yoo-hoo! Lieutenant. Are you still with me?”
Trauma.
Trauma is something that rips at one’s mind worse than a knife to flesh. Something that erodes away at what otherwise could be a peaceful life. Even in times of liberation from those weighty thoughts, the scars remain. But for most they avoid such a sensation, fearing the plague that is the lasting eclipse of serenity. Yet what about those that actively seek out their own destruction? For what reason would one have to put themselves in a position of discourse? It is guided by a pursuit of power? Or maybe fueled by greed? In the case of the Fourth Division’s Lieutenant Junko Izumi, it was progress. Advancement in her own growth, but brought about by the rending of flesh, the shattering of psyche, and the eyes of a sociopath.
What better torturer than a man who spent a majority of the first part of his life a victim of it. He had been beaten, subjected to various toxins, and even been ripped apart and put back together. His body beneath the garbs that covered most of his flesh was torn, scarred, and even still stitched together in some places. He was a tool created for destruction. A child ripped off the streets to become a key to severing the Seireitei at the seams.
”I’m going to let you in on something. I feel we are good friends now! So I don’t mind!”
The male spoke as he rubbed away some sweat that fell from his brow, absentmindedly smearing the Lieutenants blood along that side of his visage. A calm smile on his face, unaffected entirely by the ravaged woman before him.
”Otōsan (Father) was on a mission when he made me and my ‘brother’. One to wipe out the Captains of the Gotei 13. He made both of us as subtle knives in the dark to leave a void in the system.”
The youthful Clown paced around a bit, spinning the ichor-soaked knife in his hand between his fingers. The walk he did was exaggerated, taking steps as if his legs were stiff.
”There are few that can come close to defeating a Captain. Hell, even a Lieutenant like yourself. And regardless if myself or my brother could achieve that strength, he ensured that we could kill them without achieving that level. In my case… It’s my blood. ”
The Joker pivoted on his heels and faced Junko once again, watching as she wavered between consciousness from the injuries bestowed upon her. With that he approached her, kneeling before her, tapping his hand against her cheek.
”It’s not sleepy-time yet, Izumi-sama.”
That phrase. As innocent as it sounded, it came with a much more violent response. Asahi raised the blade within his grasp and plunged it into the flesh of her thigh, promptly twisting it as it dug halfway through. Bringing with it enough pain to give the healer the kick needed to cling to consciousness. His starry eyes looked upon her with his unwavering curved lips, one half of his expression laced with the very blood that fled from her body.
”There ya go! Annnnyyyway! Even someone as strong as the Head-Captain himself would rot from exposure to my blood… Yet I didn’t want that. I have nothing to gain from such an action. It was what he wanted from us. But he’s gone now. Sleeping for good for over three hundred years. I made sure of that.”
Was he truly that unhinged to not only mention something that could be a crime on its own? The concept even in the slightest that he could and had the intent to commit such an act. Even if that wasn’t what he wanted, the statement itself could be damning. Junko could easily request an end to this or see it through and then report him. Let alone the fact he just admitted to the murder of a man. Albeit that individual having been a madman that kidnapped him and another child and subjected them to experiments, but still another living soul.
He felt no concern towards it.
Asahi left the knife within her leg to not further her bleeding, instead opting to patch up some of her wounds by a rejuvenating emerald light emanating from his hands. He attended to the wounds, making sure to at the very least to halt any more blood loss, but paid no mind to the still stationary knife.
”But enough about me. This is about you. I really wonder if this truly is just about building tolerance… Or if you are just trying to acquire penance for something you've done. Like a crime? Or maybe some fear of inadequacy? Or… I may just be overthinking it.”
Asahi shrugged at the thought. He didn't know enough about the Fourth's Lieutenant to truly speculate beyond that dual pronged assumption. Regardless if there was a deeper reason, this was his task, something requested by a Vice-Captain. A wish that would bring about two months of hell.
The starry-eyed Shinigami got up from where he knelt and took a few steps backwards before turning to a bowl he had placed on a counter nearby. He reached within it and washed off his hands and face of the woman’s blood. His gaze returned to the woman as he crudely dried off his hands on the lower portion of his attire.
”I guess that’s enough for today! Buuuut! I’m going to leave you here for the night. You rest well now Lieutenant! We can pick back up tomorrow.”
The youthful presenting male began to walk away but had removed something from his clothing. A silver rectangular object was within his hand, something that he made sure to wave in the air in view of Junko. His finger pressed against the top of it, snapping the upper portion of the object open. With the descent of his finger along a wheel along the opening a flame sparked to life. He moved about the lighter within his grasp slightly.
”Tomorrow we play with fire! I look forward to it! Good night~!”
The last of his words before he swiped the switch that powered down the lights of the decrepit laboratory. This left the medic in absolute darkness with nothing but the deafening silence and a knife still nestled within her thigh. What was an eventful day… was only one of many to come.
Present Day
Friendship
Ever since the events eight and nine months ago, Asahi has returned to his normal routine. Aiding in cultivating the talents of the young prospective students while juggling his own alchemic research. Nothing was really out of the norm for him in the passing months, just simply the continuation of the pattern of his life as an instructor.
The Clown had been discussing something with a soul not too far out from the Academy grounds when he had received a notice of Lieutenant Izumi’s arrival on the school’s grounds. He wrapped up what he had to discuss with the Shinigami before him before vanishing from where he stood. His pathing brought him right to where Junko had perched herself, appearing along the rooftop in an instant. As he returned his communication device into a pocket he gave a dazzling beam towards his friend.
”It’s good to see you, Izumi-sama.”
The male’s mismatched optics honed in entirely on the Fourth’s Vice-Captain, welcoming the sight of the individual that he had a great admiration for. Someone who had willingly taken on the very torment that could only be called a living nightmare, just to forward herself. Not many were determined enough or even crazy enough to do such a thing. Let alone by a hand that was not so familiar at the idea’s conception. Anything could have transpired with a near-stranger holding the knife and yet… she committed to the idea.
Asahi fished out a pair of wrapped candies from the same space that he had placed his Denreishinki, unraveling one of them and popping it within his maw. The pearly sphere immediately coating his maw with the perfect combination of flavors, tailored by himself, so it was expected to be of his own liking. He aimed the remaining bound sweet in the direction of Junko, wiggling it a little as he spoke again.
”Jawbwakur, Wewtenant?”
His speech was obstructed by the custom jawbreaker. Eventually it would erode away but for now, this was the quality of his words.
There certainly was not a single care in the world for Asahi. Just the pleasure from the company of a friend.
