Storm Clouds Cast Long Shadows

…

As usual, Kuro's thoughts were full of… nothing. Nothing but darkness. Nothing but the abyss…

Well, that was not quite accurate. The man's mind was certainly clear, but he was not thinking of dark plots or anything like that. He was simply… blank. As still as the waves beneath him. Rain clouds grew above him, but as usual, he did not appear to particularly mind them. A lightning bolt struck through the sky, and the next thing the Shadow Shinigami knew, a downpour was covering his body. That's it… just wash it away. Wash it all away…

Slowly, he began to stand up. His unkempt hair covered most of his hair, and his face. Soon, the assistance that had been sent here to aid him would arrive. It was a shame he did not require assistance any longer. No matter how he tried to insist it would be best for him to move alone, or rather how often this particular situation happened… They never seemed to get the point. Kuro was not one to fail. He lived for his hunts, he lived for this. Another smattering of dead hollows, laying on the ground. His Zanpakuto carved under the mask of one, tearing it off, ending the last one's life in the sound of the downpour.

"…Haaah…" He let out a small breath, sitting back down on a pile of the severed limbs he had left behind.

Kuro Okami… the Shadow Shinigami. What was there that needed to be known about the man? First, and foremost, was his reputation among the Shinigami. He was currently the longest tenured Captain they had, and throughout the years, the squads he worked for had seen a very different Captain Kuro. Among the Shinigami, he was not exactly feared by anyone outside of his own squad. That was because few within the Seireitei knew anything about his missions other than the rate of success they had. He had battled with foes that were significantly out of his league, time and again: the woman known as Magnolia, the traitor Tsubasa, even the shadows of some of the stealth force captains of the time of Genryusai Yamamoto.

Not that he knew who Yamamoto was. Or was particularly interested in history, generally. What he was interested in, though, were those who served under him. While his squad were essentially the only ones who knew how thoroughly merciless their normally silent captain could be, they also did not fear him so much as respected him. He was perhaps the most self-sacrificing of the Gotei Captains, particularly when it came to the lower ranked officers of his Division. He treated them all like family, made them breakfast when he was around the Barracks, and was always willing to listen to any problems they had. He rarely responded with much in the way of advice, but it was never an issue for him to help one of his subordinates out.

Speaking of whom… There was one that he felt like he had been accidentally ignoring. The one who had been assigned to him on this mission; he knew her by name, certainly, but a face? He just could not recall her face. It was as if he had never interacted with her before, or ever gone out of his way to call her out. Or maybe they had just managed to walk directly past one another for years. In any case, Kuro had no idea how competent she was. So… he had done what was the most logical thing at the time…

Gotten another huge gash across his chest, taking the strongest of this nest of Hollow's down. His bloodsoaked haori was not purified by the rain, simply dampening and further spreading the new patches it had received. The haggard man just breathed in the rain, his head tilted slightly upward, contemplating the liquid as it fell onto his body. Just him and those he had slain… joining the bodies of all those he had disposed of throughout the years, on purpose, possessed by mania, or once…

Because he had felt obligation to something other than an empty void.