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Pale Homecoming
Thu Sep 14, 2017 5:23 pm
Artist: N/A - Song: N/A - Word Count: N/A
It had been a while since he'd made the trip to the farm he'd grown up at. Tsubasa Unabara's homestead of sorts was a reminder of the lawless district that gave rise. How many people returned home after the length of time he'd been gone. This place was a reflection of its former glory and had evolved and changed. Nothing ever remains the same with the passage of time. Tsubasa had his reiatsu cloaked but he did have e an air about him. The smell of blood couldn't be hidden from those who knew it well. He'd done his best often times to sheath the desire to kill. Tsubasa had earned his reputation as a man whose stepped on the battlefield when he first emerged. Coming home reminded him of the battles and lawless wars fought here. He met his mother like figure in Yachiru Unohana when he was a boy. Meeting her after the slaughter of a thousand men on the outskirts. The lawless battles seemed to be a war of endless nature. Defending what little family he had left with pure skill and murderous capabilities.
There was no meaning in fights here for him now. Those who challenged or tried to rob him were foolish. But he didn's suspect anyone would try something stupid. But even if they did the number of people who could really do something to him. That was a short list of the smallest scale one could imagine. His reality had changed since he was a boy here. Fighting in skirmishes and dealing with the situations as they came. Killing to survive and find a way through the darkness to the light. But it became evident as he got older that the light wasn't his place. The path of a true swordsman didn't get carved out in the light. It was why he felt a certain disgust when meeting that noble swordsman. Those who thought the sword was a plaything. His eyes of crimson turned to see a small gathering of men. They weren't worth drawing a sword or even bothering with. His katana and wakizashi sat idle at his hip as he turned to look at them. His posture didn't change but he gave off an air that they'd die.
Hesitation was clear on their part as he counted them. Ten of them was hardly a challenge or even really worth anything. They were meaningless dredges who believed they were masters. Tsubasa didn't speak or respond which seemed to raise their irritation up more. But something felt almost foul in the air around him. It had them seemingly frozen in his presence. He didn't give off spiritual pressure yet or anything of that nature. Tsubasa's cold stare remained focused on them. It was as though they'd stepped in the path of the beast. A beast wasn't quite the term for it. They'd decided to enter the place they didn't belong. They weren't fit to even stand near him with weapons. This wasn't a fight but some childish prank for sure. They couldn't move under the blood lust he had. Tsubasa's eyes weren't marking them for long lives if they continued. It was a warning and now was their only chance to leave. He'd not ask them again as he stood still staring out at them.
He kept his reiatsu sheathed till they did something. He'd not draw his blade till they gave him an ample reason to do so. This ballroom blitz had yet to really get started. He stood to the unmarked graves of his parents. But the truth of the Zaraki district was it was a giant unmarked grave for the most part. This place was violence and death personified. Few came from it and those who did held an air about them. These little bugs weren't the quality resident you need worry over. No, that distinction was saved for others. This homecoming had only begun to take off.
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