An Overcast Day Leaves No Shadows

Captain Kuro Okami

Deep, languid gestures of conscious swept from one end of the man's vision, to the other. And yet, his head did not move. In fact, his head could not even be seen. For those who existed within the realm of Shadows, bodies were simple reflections of their norm. His gaze shifted along the Gotei; from the far reaches of Seireitei, back to his the barracks of his own squad. He traced out the shadows of those whom he knew; students, members of his squad, the various Captains who were currently in the Gotei… He could trace each and every one of them out as they moved about. The shadows of carts, being moved along the ground, the ones pushing them planting one foot in front of the other.

Shadow. Unfamiliar.

The Quincy had been brought to his office. Perhaps the most striking thing about it was how it was lit; there was no consistent lighting. Upon entering, the guide had lit four of the candles in the room, leaving them to burn. It was difficult to see much farther than a few feet in front of her face. For some reason, this was how the Stealth Force Captain kept his quarters. Perhaps she was expecting for him to be seated within that darkness; it was difficult to see much farther than the end of his desk.

…But that one is familiar.

The Shinigami captain's body slowly emerged from the shadow, directly behind her. There was no sense, no presence. If anything, only the feeling of the wind hitting her back from behind would indicate that someone else had drawn near her. The man's gaze was pointed downward as the shadows retreated from his skin, permitting more and more of him into the world of dusk and dawn. A single hand reached out, patting the guide on her shoulder. "…" Kuro and the Stealth Force division member were both silent, her guide's head bowing before retreating. The doors creaked as the entryway closed behind her, and then Syvlia was left alone with the white-haired man.

"………Quincy." The single word came from his throat, a dragging, rasping sound. His head slowly tilted up to face her. The candles flickered, and in that moment, she would get a clear look of his face.

His eyes were hollow, dead. Any light they had once held had been replaced with some kind of… void. His expression was listless, uncommitted. Above his left eye, she could make out an angry-red scar, in the shape of a star. The scar went straight down his face, and that was when she would be able to smell it.

The Captain was covered with the smell of blood. It had dried long ago, but the metallic scent remained, lightly emanating from his body. He wore a Captain's haori, but the color was all wrong. It was a russet, dirty brown. The pale white it should have maintained had been lost, long ago.

Those blank eyes looked right at her, the man's arms limply resting on either side of his body. After several moments, his eyes widened just a bit, and at last he spoke. The rasp was much stronger, now, grating at the walls, at his desk, at her ears.

"…What…do you want?..."