It is said that nothing brings about unity more than violence. War, conflict, tragedy and bloodshed, death is something that all creatures, all
beings share in common. It is then no surprise that these games, advertising violence and death would garner the attention of nearly every Soul in the Soul Society. Young and old, the rich and the poor, the wise and the foolish...the noble or
just along with the shady and untrustworthy. Despite their differences, differences that breed hate, prejudice, discrimination and conflict...they are all the same. This is a truth that the Nobles of the Soul Society may perhaps never admit to either themselves or others, yet it is the rich and influential who find themselves at the betting pools spearheaded by the Ninth Division, standing alongside the less fortunate to wager their money on the life and death of those fighting for their very lives on the screens.
For a moment, there is peace within the Soul Society — peace born from the clashing of metal blades, the shedding of blood...the death of one so far. Those meant to protect all those sitting comfortably afar, safe and distant from the danger that excites them, risking their lives for the protection of the people who both love and hate them...now risk their lives for their entertainment. These are things the masses does not consider, things the people do not care about. This is, the Soul Society.
"HAHA! AREN'T THE MUKURO SUPPOSE TO BE THESE BIG SCARY KILLERS? AIN'T THAT THE GUY THAT WAS SUPPOSE TO HAVE TRIED TO KILL THAT OL' MONSTER AND EVEN DID THAT TO THE OKI? LOOK AT HIM, RUNNIN SCARED"
One of many spectators laughs at what he observes. Unable to truly process what is taking place his perception as a distant spectator is limited and thus skewed. Though people laugh awkwardly truth is, they too share similar thoughts. To them, Captain Mukuro was the Boogey Man, a creature of nightmare who could appear wherever and whenever slaughtering them and their loved ones in a room filled with people without anyone being the wiser. To see him seemingly maintaining a distance, they like many others ignorantly interpret this as fear or uncertainty on his part. Away from the Captain's blade, they are unable to notice the lack of killing intent in his sword, though truth be told even if they were up close it would be impossible for those of their caliber to have even survived so long against even this passive sword of Kyomu. While the dregs of the Rukongai cheer, feeling they have a champion for the first time, it is at the same time realization dons on the drunkard that while the Oda's heart may have been in these games, the Phantom's certainly wasn't.
The people cheer on the drunken swordsman while jeering the Phantom and the name of the Mukuro, each victims in their own right, and perhaps after or even before these games end...they'd become victims once more.
"THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SEE, THIS WHAT I BEEN SAYING!! WHY'D THE SEIREITEI LET THE ODA COME BACK OUT!!"
Elsewhere, there exists another crowd. The Oda's name is another taboo, a sore spot for many. Their fall from grace centuries ago, banished for their barbarism when the Oda resurfaced it was considered an Omen of ill times. Now, seeing the Oda Captain transformed and mutated into this monstrosity before them, it is as though their prejudice has been made manifest before their very eyes. They questioned Shobatsu's decision over a Century ago, and now they begin to question the inheritor of his role, Commander Kagayaki's decision in keeping such a person, such a thing among the ranks of the Shinigami, let alone that of a Captain. While the games have temporarily unified the people, once they end, their will perhaps be further division as their perception of the warriors of the Gotei 13 becomes further skewed. Elsewhere Captain Yugure herself undergoes a transformation of her own, and though not as grotesque and ghastly as the Buddha's, it is enough to deepen the dark thoughts rummaging through the dark trenches of their imaginations, trenches deeper and darker than those of Kurosawa's.
“That’s where you shoHEY WHAT THE HELL MAN!?”
-
"NOOOOOOOOOOO"
Almost in unison with the Drunken men, a pub filled with drunken Rukon patrons let out exasperated groans at the sight of the jug of what by now, they've determined to be alcohol seemingly go to waste thanks to the antics of that damned Mukuro. Their hearts in this moment unite with Suiyo's, as a moment of silence befalls the place for but a moment as the gourd touches the ground. The silence is soon broken from a hiccup, then shouting, and a fight breaks out, spreading like fire.
The carmine mist erupts, creating the illusion of the Captain's demise. It is a scene that draws the focus of many spectators who gasp. Had not only an Oda but...a MONSTER been slain? This guy whoever he is, had done the Seireitei a proper service! That is what the ignorant believe, and so they are naturally taken aback when that same monster emerges once more, one limb down, but otherwise unscathed. His voice echoes and reverberates through the screen, the minds, the very souls of those who watch him, and though behind a screen...they do not feel safe. His steps are assured but then, something else transpires, something unexpected.
”Why…
”Why…
"You made a promise-"
A blade appears through the Hollow's chest, manifesting there as if the monster's body itself had given birth to the blade. No blood spills, and the monster of course feels nothing, as Kyomu stands directly behind him as though his shadow. No actual contact is made with the Asura's body, there is no scent to track, there was no sound to catch, no vibrations to be felt, nor reiatsu to be sensed. Suiyo's tossed gourd had revealed that the man waiting at the side was but an apparition, yet unlike Suiyo Tenzen knows Kyomu. He knows these games mean nothing to the Phantom, and had long since detected that Kyomu had no intention of truly killing anyone, let alone winning these absurd games. While he does not dismiss his fellow Captain's ability as a threat or danger he understands that in this setting, his main concern was the one who seemed intent on cutting them down. Tenzen's transformation had concerned the Mukuro Captain, he was aware that the Oda along with the other two had been training with the Commander to master their ailment, and he knew the Oda was a man of discipline, of control. He expected that control to be maintained but, had he been mistaken? He watches for signs, unable to determine anything, seeking any sign one way or another, of if his colleague was compromised, or still piloting the body that stood transformed before him. While Suiyo's images begin to fade, Kyomu continues assessing their surroundings, the threads of his attire cloaking his form while shifting the gaze and perception away from him, his ghostly steps sending him throughout the Muken in search of a way out, while repeatedly returning to check and assess the area.
He fails in finding an exit, and the more the Hollowfied Tenzen moves and speaks, the more he appears as a threat. Yet still, there is an intelligence about the monster that Kyomu cannot ignore or deny...he is still uncertain. The events between swordsman and asura take place, and though the Drunken man succeeds in destroying the discarded arm, he fails in slaying the monster, a monster that also fails to bind the swordmaster. What would happen if things continued on as they were? How much control had already been relinquished to the hollow? How much more would Tenzen be willing to relinquish all in order to eradicate this unknown man. The Phantom couldn't find out, and so in this place of darkness, he becomes the Oda's shadow. Genzoken losing its corporeality passing forward unimpeded, carefully and surgically, a steady hand ensures it does not waver, it does not shake. Control of one's body ensures no breath is heard or felt, the pumping heart slows itself to the point it becomes a question of rather or not it was even beating at all, his pulse weakened to the point it was dead, and no visible form to even be seen, one becomes hard pressed to notice anything that could be discerned to be out of place.
"Have we lost another Captain?"
Uncharacteristically Kyomu seems to have abandoned any advantage he would have on the beast by speaking, referencing his words to their current commander back during the previous Captain's meeting when address Higen's concerns about the Vizard. If Tenzen truly was out of control, so close to him he was open to immediate attack and retaliation. Perhaps it was arrogance, conceit born from his confidence in his mastery of Hohō. Perhaps it was simply a gamble on his part, a leap of faith. If so, where was that gamble, that faith in the Oki? It too had existed then. Kyomu could have cut Honoka down, ended her life when she had first shown aggression to him, yet he repeatedly stayed his blade, repeatedly continued to use words and not violence to resolve the issue before he was finally forced to become the killer he was conditioned to be, the monster he is perceived to be. Standing there with blade in hand, yet no shadow cast along the ground Tenzen must also make a choice if he is still able to. Does he trust in the man trusting in his control, or..does he assume the worst and act as Honoka had acted, blind and deaf to what Kyomu was truly attempting to say and do. Though he does not look the swordsman's way, and seems either ignorant or unconcerned regarding the man's fate, he knows this drunken man is strong, and he also hopes that he is at least aware enough to understand that the situation right now is something he is better left out of.
The Soul Society, or at least those observing the scene in the Muken unconsciously silence themselves. No one knows how this will end, those observing the other fights glance over to their friends and family members transfixed on this one. Curious to what's caused them to move from cheering or jeering to simply being silent, frozen in place. They stare at the screen, questions seeking to be asked unable to make the transition from thought to word as their lips remained sealed, eyes honed in on the screen.
Today's battle between these three souls..is one that will remain on the tongues and lips of those who had witnessed it for many centuries to come.