Between Theft And Envy [Veralia/Mura]

The right eyebrow of Veralia rose in intrigue when Mura asked Veralia what she was. That was a question that Veralia herself pondered. Was she merely a swirling vortex of envy, stripped bare of any semblance of thought or ego? Or did the depths of her soul harbor something more, something profound and ineffable?

As Mura prodded further, her reflections were distributed as Veralia locked her eyes on him to further focus on the man. It was interesting that Mura didn't even know what a Zanpakutō or an Arrancar was. Rubbing her chin, Veralia squatted down next to him before eventually sitting in his lap and looking at her emerald-flaming sword.

"Like I said before, I'm an Arrancar, sweetheart."

While Veralia spoke, there was a relaxed cadence to her voice; as if this was just another walk in the park for her. Then looking up at Mura, she grinned, and rested her head against his chest while her eyes flicked a sharp shade of crimson; as if she was amused by all this.

"We're what you get when hollows, beings born from human souls clutching desperately to despair and darkness, evolve. Hollows are the echo of humanity's darkest failings—despair, regret, all that jazz, manifesting when a human kicks the bucket and misses the shinigami boat."

Now grinning, Veralia continued, her smile widening with a mixture of mischief and pride as she indulged in the intrigue her revelations stirred within Mura.

"Hollows gobble up souls, living or dead. We usually stick to Hueco Mundo, but hey, we get around—Soul Society, Earth, you name it, especially when someone gets to be as special as me: an Arrancar.."

Winking at him, she would then tap the tips of her horns and continue.

"Most hollows are born with a mask, but if you become strong enough, you can remove it and become more human-like again. We even gain Zanpakuto which are nothing more than an extension of our hollow powers we seal into them when becoming Arrancar."

Gazing up her blade, she would lick the flames and giggle before turning her gaze back to Mura.

"And since Arrancar are pretty much walking, talking sins, you could say my lovely sword here is brimming with the fiery wrath of Envy

Post-duel soreness was a bitch. He’d gotten used to it by now… or at least, he thought so. However, with every greater challenge, the inner pains intensified, and all he could do was bite it in and let his limbs rest. He could feel minor burn wounds here and there, akin to gentle licks from faint, distant fires. The kind that left tar and sod on your face afterwards.

Curious, he was, about the specimen known as Veralia. Not only did she claim the obvious – that she was, as mentioned earlier when they met, an Arrancar – but she also somehow found the time and interest to claim his lap as a seat. Understandably, having a rather unironically hot lady come on to him like that made Mura feel… wrong, at first. As if it wasn’t supposed to be. He kept his eyes away from hers at first, driven by a sense of shame or whatever he was brought up with.

But his panicked muscles at her brazen action… slowly relaxed once more. In spite of her previous words, of being a maneater, he sensed no hostility from her. No ill desires to devour him, flesh or blood. Just… amusement. She looked strongly amused by his being, and yet he listened. Closely. While she kept his lap warm and fuzzy.

He learned that these Hollows weren’t just creatures alongside mankind, monsters that popped out of each other to tear and wreck… but were born from humans’ souls and the dark emotions that made the ego, the selves that each soul harnessed. She made it sound like elementary school knowledge, as if it was obvious trivia, that a human’s soul harboring strong, negative emotions could carve an opening to transform into a Hollow. Furthermore, missing the ‘Shinigami boat’… so Shinigami’s absence also aided in the birth of Hollows. Shinigamis were those who guided souls to their next life, no? They guided home lost souls who found themselves wandering the earth, and they had done so… for eons, right?

He understood it now. Not being guided to the afterlife by one of them meant that you were left to your own devices on earth – to wail in your loss of life and the loss of connections to those you loved. Obviously, such a lonely soul couldn’t hang onto sanity for too long… they’d certainly curse everything around them at last, transforming into these Hollows that Veralia meant. Hollows that could, apparently, travel between a place called Hueco Mundo, Soul Society and Earth itself.

He'd… he’d heard of Hueco Mundo before. His old sensei once spoke of it after Mura’s first encounter with a Hollow. To think that Veralia was able to just freely travel between different planes of existence was a can of explosives he shivered at the thought of.

And Arrancars were Hollows that evolved by growing strong enough to remove their masks. They become like her – human-like, with these Zanpakuto that extended their Hollow powers. So these Zanpakuto were born from themselves… not forged. That meant he’d never be able to wield one, for Mura didn’t exactly plan to become a demon.

“… It’s almost too much for me,” he admitted with a weary voice, “My old master ought to have taught me more about you H-… s-so you were once a Hollow, too?” Imagining Veralia as a Hollow was hard. She was a whole person, with an intriguing sentience – not an instinctual soul eater with no space for negotiation. Still, the possibility that she was once a Hollow… freaked him out. “So there’s a chance that I might become one as well?”

Her blood eyes remained gazing at Mura as he seemed to enter a state of despair from Veralia's point of view. She could see it in his response; the weariness behind his voice spoke volumes for her as he struggled to wrap his head around the concept of what hollows and Arrancar were. It was only natural to be baffled and dismayed when learning the reality of the world around you.

In a gentle motion, Veralia's right palm rested on the cheek of Mura as she looked up at him with a hint of intrigue behind his dismay. Perhaps it was an act of comfort, or perhaps she was revealing in it, but her words would soon affirm his questions.

"Some get spat out as Arrancar or hollows right from the get-go, but me? Nah, I wasn't dealt those cards."

Voice as sweet as can be, Veralia chuckled lightly as if it weren't too big of a deal to her. And why would it? Such a thing is history to her and the past can't be helped. Regardless, she doubted the male would let it go that easily or not be as sentimental about it. So, she remained patient and continued.

"I don't remember much from my human life, but there isn't much to be afraid of if you do become hollow. Consciousness rarely ever ceases to be, so one could say I've been taken over by sin, while others could just say my essence evolved. Who is to say what is right or wrong, Mura."

Resting her head against his chest, Veralia closed her eyes and began to quietly think to herself. Taking in the warmth, closeness and stillness of the space was all that she needed in the moment before her gaze locked on Mura once more.

"No. You seem too sweet for such a thing. You are like an innocent little puppy."

The words, delivered with a blend of sincerity and teasing, carried a deeper implication. In the context of their conversation about essences, transformations, and the blurred lines of morality, Veralia's comment was not just a light-hearted jest but a recognition of Mura's inherent nature.

But, then a devious grin etched itself across her voice as she jabbed at him one more time:

"Unless you are hiding something from me I don't know about."

… Now it really felt like she was coddling him, but if she was such an entity… then she was definitely older than him, wasn’t she? Or was that how he should think about things? He wasn’t sure… but she was more than what a human being could be, that was for sure. Still, her hand felt a bit welcoming, as if she tried to comfort him and ward off the confusion that haunted his dome.

Her transition into an Arrancar sounded like a story, alright, but apparently not one worth talking about – mostly because she didn’t remember much from her previous human life. “… I guess there’s no way to tell,” he pondered over the nature of the Arrancar, how they truly differed from the fiends that tried to eat him at every turn – Hollows… Arrancar evolved from Hollows, but it was like they regained some of their humanity again by evolving. So perhaps… the Veralia in his lap right now was a remnant of her previous, human self.

Or something.

But she felt so comfy with him that it almost betrayed their relations – they looked like a couple like this, and while Veralia likely had no issues taking a break like this, Mura was raised better. At the same time, she bested him in battle, so he could… consider this her reward of some sort. She looked content, after all.

“I- thank… you, I guess?” Puppy, huh? He’d take the compliment, but something told him she wanted to poke fun at his naïve exterior. Perhaps he really was just a youngling in her inhuman eyes. “I… what would I… oh, don’t ask me that. My life hasn’t been that wicked.”

He lived… and trained… and pursued his passion. It troubled his parents at first, but his talents were unquestionable. Now, he was lost in another country, worn mentally and physically, yearning for the comfort of home that he couldn’t find in the cold peaks of Tibet. He didn’t know if he’d done anything for his own… crooked means. If anything, he got into this mess because of a selfless act.

A puppy, awfully correct of her.

“… Between you and me,” he opened up a bit, “I may regret stealing this sword for a certain someone sulking in the background… but keep that under rags. I’ve got to live with my choice.” That pseudo-senile samurai plus was a burden, and a mouthy one at that… but Mura decided to help him, anyway. He’d have to see his help through. We were still talking about the founder of his dojo.

“You’re kinda strange, Veralia, but… I think I like you. Not just ‘cause you’re warming my lap, y’know.”

"You are most welcome."

Prompt n' snappy, Veralia used her right hand to then pat the head of Mura. Sure it was in jest, but she wasn't one to turn down compliments. It always appeased the endless stream of envious blood within her soul.

Eyes lingering on him still, her head gently tilted to the left; intrigued by his stuttering and reluctance to reflect on his life's regrets. But, eventually, it came out. And from what Veralia heard of his story, there wasn't much to worry about. She couldn't see him ever becoming a hollow if his only regret was for stealing a blade.

"Hun, if your biggest regret is stealing a sword, you are definitely going to become a plus or Shinigami."

Pausing for a moment, since he didn't know what hollow or Arrancar were, it was doubtful he knew what a plus was. A low chuckle escaped her lips before she decided to expand on that.

"Oh, right, listen up. I doubt you even know what a plus is, so I'll explain before you ask."

Gently poking his nose, she grinned and continued.

"Pluses, they’re essentially what you get when a regular Joe kicks the bucket but sticks around instead of moving on. Ghosts, if you wanna keep it simple. They're harmless, usually just lost souls trying to figure out their next move.”

After imparting her succinct, no-nonsense summary of pluses, Veralia allowed herself a moment to relax, sinking back into the conversation's casual flow. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, found its way back to his eyes, lingering in a silent exchange that spoke volumes of the rapport they shared. In the brief pause that followed, an air of contemplation hung between them, a testament to the depth and complexity of their dialogue.

Then, the corners of her mouth curled upwards into a knowing smirk, breaking the silence with her characteristic blend of confidence and playful provocativeness.

"Oh, I can tell. It's flattering that you do like what you see,."

It was an obvious ease, as her voice was imbued with a mix of amusement and a touch of pride.

"You certainly know the right things to say to appease a woman made of envy."

Great, now she was even patting his head. I don’t know whether to feel awkward or angry… the elf-faced Mura’s thoughts ran down the trail, But it’s kinda nice. Maybe couples do this with each other all the time… oh… wait… we just met. Huh. Guess I’m more of a ladies’ man than I thought.

Surprisingly, theft of that nature – the one concerning the museum artifact that he was carrying to this day – wasn’t enough to label him a future soul eater. She, instead, expected him to become a plus or a Shinigami, which did get his hopes up of figuring out what the craze with Zanpakutō was all about. Shinigami were, for a long time, perceived by humans as nigh biblically mystic, angel-like entities that roamed realms far above, could travel at the speed of light, and struck black demons down with their living swords.

Well, it wasn’t like humans just met Shinigami on a day-to-day basis! And not that many had developed Spiritual Powers. His parents, for example, had no clue about his own spiritual prowess and just assumed that he was a gifted child who could lift cars.

… What was a plus? Did she mean something specific, ‘cause it couldn’t have been the mere mathematical symbol. “Plus?” he let out, immediately answered by Veralia who expected his confusion and gave a quick summary of what pluses were. Grimacing at her nose-poking business, he glared towards that one weirdo ghost he was accompanied by, who turned his angered face away in disdain. “Who the hell are you calling harmless…”

Otherwise, the conversation melted, and so did Mura’s mood. She was flattered by his comment, and he didn’t exactly know what else to say next. She looked sweet, was such a tease, and she was warm. Or maybe… it was just the typical warmth of a woman’s touch that Mura had yet to get accustomed to.

Oh well. He wasn’t in a hurry.

“I… hope relations are well between Shinigami and you Arrancars. If I become a Shinigami one day, I wouldn’t want to slay someone like you.”

Veralia took a moment to remain silent as her right continued to pat the head of Mura. He seemed as content as could be under her, but his words are what caused the woman to pause. The future of their races was always fragile, so her head tilted to the right once more as she reflected on that fact. When she was ready to speak, another cool, calm smirk came across her lips as her nose wriggled.

"You don't have to kill a shinigami just because they are a shinigami, and you don't have to kill an Arrancar just because they are an Arrancar. There is this thing called freewill you should look into, Mura."

Her tone was gentle yet firm, a reminder of the choices that lay beyond the constraints of race and expectation. With a playful gesture, she pinched Mura's cheek, her laughter low and comforting, reinforcing the lighter tone of her message.

To her? One can not always control the greater world around them, but one can choose how to conduct themselves on the smaller scales in certain situations. Following this logic is why Veralia wasn't afraid of that outcome much. With her blood eyes still lingering on him, she continued.

"Of course, if you hitch your ass to big shots like the Gotei or Vandereich, you're signing up to be their lapdog, plain and simple. Every race has its own organization or faction of some kind that they report to. But us? We're freelancers and rogues. We just have to abide by the rules of this world until we are strong enough to build our own kingdoms and make our own rules."

Ah, yeah… of course, Mura knew that not everybody just worked like robots, doing their duties exactly as told. But how would he know how a Shinigami thinks? How would he have known… how an Arrancar thought? He’d only met Veralia, now… and he wasn’t a fan of generalizing.

“Ahhhh, I get it, I get it… they’re not like angels and devils,” Mura sighed with part of his face pulled to the side by her pinching, “I won’t judge! Alright, alright? I’m not a child… for human standards, I'm actually nearing my midlife! I'm almost 30!” She mentioned that shit wasn’t as straight as his brain mustered for an overview, and that things were larger from beyond the mortal realm. For instance… Gotei. And Vandenreich.

Two names he hadn’t been informed of before. The Head Master was likely hiding shit from him, wasn’t he? Like, how much did Mura not know?!

Either way, they sounded like corporations. Bigshot organizations who leashed members around to do their bidding, or something. Then, there were her kind… and his kind… freelancing about. He wouldn’t exactly call the human race freelancers, since nations and organizations existed here on Earth too, but… was it that tight in the Gotei and the Vandenreich?

Y’know, maybe he ought to meet those peeps himself. One day… just to truly understand where Veralia was coming from.

“… These Shinigami folks… do I have to do just to meet them? They got cool swords, and maybe they could help fix Harukami. But I know so little about them… almost sounds like a police force of some sort,” he expressed his thoughts… and his desire to, maybe, return to Veralia one day with a brand-new, magical sword. Oh, what element would it be, then? Wind, like his Niten martial arts? Or another element to complement it… like fire? Fiery and blazing, just like hers…

“If so, I’d be better off not worrying about them for a bit.”

… So uh, he had little else to talk about from that point on. However, as the awkward silence from him grew, he’d cling a little bit tighter to her form with the one arm he had, whispering tiredly: “Are you… leaving?” Some tinge of anxiety accompanied his question, betraying the desire for her to remain. The fear to see her go when he’d gotten to know her this well. If she showed up just to captivate him, she did her job well. Mura knew he’d met a truly charming woman.

And wandering around Tibet for 10 years had made the swordsman a bit… lonely.

Veralia's right eyebrow arched upward as she seemed intrigued by his question about whether he needed to meet the shinigami. A soft chuckle soon followed, breaking the brief silence as she addressed his concern.

"They are supposed to help the balance of souls, but you don't necessarily have to meet them. So you're right, you don't have to worry about them much if you aren't causing problems for them."

After she finished speaking, Veralia noticed Mura clinging to her ever so tightly. It didn't bother her, though it made her smirk because he was becoming so close to something sinful like herself.

"I don't have anywhere specific to be. Rented out a little spot to chill while I'm sightseeing here, so I'm pretty much free to roam around."

Seeing right through him in that instant, a playful tease was given to him before she continued.

"Why, are ya' missing me already?"

Okay… that was good to know. They sounded dutiful, these Shinigami – he wouldn’t mind becoming one after his death, really. Purifying souls just sounded like a noble duty, something befitting the hands of nearly angelic entities.

Oh, little did he know… but that was a topic for later.

She was apparently just sightseeing currently, not having any specific places to go to but a spot she rented for resting. Now… from what Mura knew about this whole shtick, usually when a dude was interested in a woman per this nature, they’d exchange contact info in some way. A phone number, for instance… but Mura wasn’t talking to a human. Every time he reminded himself of that, he felt a bit odd – as if he shouldn’t even bother trying to get to know her more, lest he humanize her too much. Was that wrong? It felt wrong, but at the same time, he was easily drawn nearer.

“We just met… and I’m not being a bother, am I? I just thought that we could, maybe, have a drink, meet somewhere else- wait… urrggh, what am I even on about?” It finally dawned on him that he wasn’t a tourist here – he was a damn wanted person. He didn’t have a solid finance, and he only carried change collected from his ‘Sword of Miracles’ demonstrations here in Tibet’s villages. And here he was, actually trying to ask an Arrancar out- what a lost cause.

“I’m just so tired, I can’t think straight anymore… why am I acting as if anything's going well? Wanted people rarely have stacks of money or even nice clothes for the occasion - I think I'm just a bit too geeked to meet an Arrancar.”