Sit By The Fireside [Catherine, Isamu]

"..Kay, the circle's ready."

It was hours after the job was done, but she had something extra to do with this one. A thought, a feeling, a sense of respect - not an ounce of intent would be obvious in her motivation, having lined up the slain hollow's corpse around a dingy bracelet and a few other belongings of the departed. Stones circled them, herbs settled atop and within the carefully selected pale forms, additionally stuffed into the open wounds to smother the scent of death. Ritual circles looked like ritual circles, no matter how you sneezed at it.

"Kay Isamu, remember what I told ya - the moment the fire lights you turn around and plug your ears. Look at me and i'll stab your eyes out," Reaching into her pocket, she'd calmly toss leaves of an unrecognizable shape atop the circle's contents, and with another hand bright shapes would spark atop the heap and cause it to burst into vibrant flames, lacking scent as it looked like fleeting blue forms flickered within it.

And calmly... She'd dance around it, the part she hated the most was that and the singing. But, it was repayment for not doing burials properly before, maybe the feeling of embarrassment would fade.

"Damn. Not even one peek? Fine. Go ahead and get on with it, Cath."

His head turned from the burial ceremony the moment the flame flickered into existence. His onyx gaze simply peered off into the skies during the proceeding moments. What the hell was he even doing here again, anyway? Tagging along with his rival on a mission had never been on his bingo card before, but that was exactly what had happened here.

He didn't accompany her as backup or anything, though. No, it wasn't nearly anything as momentous as that. This ginger-haired hunter used him as hollow bait. A severe underutilization of his talent, he felt, but he wasn't complaining. She proved amusing company, and he quite enjoyed the way she insulted him and rejected his occasional flirtatious commentary. Spending a day with her doing something like this was fine. Nothing had occupied his time so much that he felt like turning it down, anyway.

In actuality, this made for good practice for the future where they'd be coordinating together. Why not get a leg up on that one while the opportunity was presenting itself, right? And so, he waited. Quietly biding his time, ears plugged, his curious eyes caught small glimpses of her moving form. There was something cute about seeing her sing and dance, something that made her feel a little vulnerable... but he wasn't going to voice that. He kept a low profile while she handled her business with this burial. He did want to avoid getting stabbed, after all.

The crackle and burn on scorching flesh was the only brilliant lighting in the darkness of the wood's clearing, surpassing even the full moon's light. Her slow dance encircling the pit of flames would come to an end, the quieting of her voice speaking it's finality. Blinking quickly, she'd grunt with a hint of annoyance - she definitely had that spaced out feeling again. This ritual didn't do anything it claimed to do, at least not in any way she could see; at the end of it all, only Shinigami had that ability to cleanse these souls, despite the best efforts of those who came before her.

Wordlessly, she got a normal fire started in mere moments with the wood they didn't use, pulling the handmade grill kit from her baggage to set over the flame. A go through the cooler got only salt and some chicken out to cook. If he hadn't realized she was done, a nudge to the shoulder would communicate that just fine.

Then, she just sat by the smaller fire, quietly tending to the meats, a forlorn expression reflecting orange flames.

"Mm..."

The nudge to his shoulder informed him that the little ceremony was over. Exhaling softly, he stroked the back of his head with an exasperated grin. Stretching his arm, he slowly shifted over to find a comfortable position by the burning flames. Some part idly wondered if he shared a connection to whoever died, but he highly doubted that. She never openly revealed too much about family-related business, anyway. No, there was a more pertinent question on his mind he wanted to ask, but not before lighting a cigarette and taking a long huff to contemplate his thoughts. Consequently, he posed the question without hesitation, recognizing her forlorn expression.

"Why do you do it? This hollow-hunting thing. Far be it from me to question how someone earns their cash, but everything about this seems like it only invites stress over time. I'm still wonderin' what made me ideal hollow-bait for this mission..."

"If I was so weak that this job would be too much for me, then I should've killed myself forever ago. The fact i'm here proves otherwise."

Not even so much as looking up from the rather bland-looking meal she was cooking, gently turning the meat with a metal prod of sorts. That was the honest truth, something she had no gripes admitting to. A roll of the eyes to his following question, she'd wave the rod in his direction with a slight gesture,

"I've been trying to get this one to come out for almost a week. Took way too much hunting around town to figure out it used to be some girl crushing on her teacher. Her male teacher, whom she ended up eating. Needed an older guy who could survive the fight, and, despite you being my fifteenth choice, were the best one available. Hooray, congrats, confetti."

She was dry and tired when she spoke, making an intentional show of an 'oh, that reminds me' on her face. She always intended to give this to him from the moment she called him.

"Hagane, catch." Tossed his way was a small black box flying his way, a catch and inspection leading to reveal a series of small corked vials fixed inside of the box securely in a sleeve, reddish water with what looked to be unidentifiable, dully shimmering leaves and roots inside of it.

"For hollow poisoning. I'm not so great at making the stuff and the herbs for it are... Limited. But testing lets me believe it's enough to at least ebb the effects away with regular dosing. Thank my morfar's dusty old books. You know what to use it for."

She gave little other indication of what she was thinking or feeling in regards to it, just speeding through any immediate questions or wonderings. He knew who it was for.

"Heh, I can't argue with ya there. I suppose you do learn pretty quickly whether yer built for this way of life early on."

Truer words had never been spoken in that regard. He learned early on that he was well-equipped to kill others in cold blood long ago. Once he dishonored those closest to him by using his cultivated skill for murder, the rest was history. Was it an honest living? No. Did he believe his seat was reserved anywhere else but hell? Of course. Overwhelmingly so, in fact.

His thoughts didn't linger on that for long, though. Humor struck his spirits the moment she revealed he was fifteenth on her list of possible options, that he fit the profile of an older guy who could attract a hollow infatuated with her male teacher. He didn't exactly know if either of those revelations were anything to celebrate, though. Way to hurt a man's pride, huh?

"I'm just glad you were thinkin' of little ole me at all, my dear Catherine. I do always enjoy seein' you look all cute while you glare daggers at me and threaten to spill my entrails."

His voice grew a touch playful as he continued to smoke his cigarette. He wasn't the sentimental type by any degree, but it was always an experience crossing paths with this she-devil. There was a certain amusement he found in it all. Of course, his attention was drawn away during the silence from the box flying in his direction. Expertly catching it with his hand as though it were a natural reflex, Isamu cocked his head to the side for a moment. His curious gaze fixed on the box.

"Hm...?"

Her explanation pretty much told him all he needed to know. Glancing at the vials, his eyebrows raised questioningly, he wondered about how she knew... or who she knew. He didn't need to ask her anything. He knew. What rendered him speechless the most... was the why. From his point of view, she stood to gain nothing, and he had learned long ago not to think he was someone any slightly well-meaning individual could call "friend." So, what was her motive?

"I know. That's awfully kind of you, Catherine, but why? Don't know what I did, but I doubt it's much to deserve somethin' like... this."

Shit, he had to turn his face away to avoid looking vulnerable himself. What the hell was up with her and the surprise sneak attack?

He was so irritating, her nose wrinkling slightly as she prodded the flames and made sure they didn't die too quickly. Shaken salt was carefully sprinkled over all the meats, never seeming to face him or even wish to look at him, the only evidence her neck felt like moving was the occasional glance to the dying cinders of the corpse fire.

Thoughts bubbled in her head with a lingering stare, only interrupted with the man's figuring of what exactly she gave him. Still, she didn't dare look at him,

"It's payment for the job. You participated. Good job," Her responses were short and sharp, "Nothing more, nothing less. Don't dig, dumb mutt."

" 'Don't dig', she says, as if this little act doesn't elicit all sorts of questions right now. Don't think playin' the role of hollow bait justifies somethin' like this, but I ain't in the business of starin' a gift horse in its mouth. I just find it odd. There isn't anything ya stand to gain from this, I imagine, and you took your hard-earned time to make it. I just..."

To be honest, Isamu still couldn't quite comprehend her purpose for it. He expected those natural insults, and as always, they were still as harsh and dismissive as ever, but there was something markedly odd about this that it left him at a loss for words. Unfamiliar territory for him, to be sure, so much so that he was still fumbling around for his words. Don't dig? It was difficult to adhere to that advice with something of this nature. He was no fool. He lived this life long to know there was an ulterior motive behind almost every person's actions, but he didn't feel like there was anything beneficial he had to offer her outside of being a talented swordsman who could expertly strike from the shadows and disorient his enemy with underhanded tactics. Exhaling roughly, he ruffled his hair with a groan.

"Thank you. This means more to me than you can imagine, alright? Sheesh... what am I even saying... is the chicken done yet?"

Now he found himself wanting to move to the next subject, despite the series of questions that lingered in his mind. Anything felt like a suitable option if it meant avoiding looking weak and vulnerable. He had an image to maintain, after all.

"Well it does. Congrats. Enjoy your payment."

Her sitting position hardly shuffled as her eyes remained fixed on the fire. How do you even talk about things like this? It wasn't something she ever felt up to talk to, especially not with this idiot... The only thing that prompted her further action was his asking about the chicken, which she effortlessly put onto a plate, rather, she stacked one plate with all of the pieces and presented the bland, slightly burnt chicken to him.

She wasn't as hungry as she thought she was.

If he didn't have anything else to say or ask, a question would finally leave her lips, eyes still fixed on the dancing flames in front of her, tone spoken low and perhaps even wistfully, "Do you actually love her that much?"

"I don't think it does! I've known you for some time, and this isn't something you just casually do on the fly and then tell another man to accept it. How the hell am I supposed to just brush it off now, huh? "Oh, Isamu, good job being hollow-bait. Now accept this stuff I made as a reward, kay?" Who do you take me for?"

Mission failed. He had yearned to change the subject as quickly as possible, but this dismissiveness of her words left him agitated. Obviously, the man had never been the type to find much value in fostering long-term bonds with anyone, and this felt like something a dear friend would do for another. If they weren't friends, then what was her reasoning? He wasn't exactly keeping his one well-meaning parent hidden from the world, but his line of work meant he had to be expertly careful in presenting the only thing he could consider a weakness.

Taking the plate from her, he'd grumble as he bit into the charred chicken, using the small stick as a makeshift utensil while he made his decision. Vulnerability or not, this subject was sitting on his lap staring him dead in the face. At this point, he couldn't escape it if he wanted to. Catherine's question only exacerbates the need to address this now. To strike while the iron is hot, as the universal saying goes.

"For someone who told me don't dig, you're askin' a pretty personal question there, aren't ya? In short, yea. Of course, I do. She's my mother and she's the only true source of genuine happiness I have left. She sacrificed a lot to keep me protected when I was a kid. Did everything in her power to make sure I lived a good life. Can't say I've done her much proud on that front, but... At the very least, I don't want whatever time she has left in this world to be spent wasting away in a hospital."

God, he hated it here right now. Anywhere in the universe would be great. Fuck Catherine. This was foul. From hollow bait to sharing sentiments at a fireside with chicken seasoned in salt. What manner of karma had he invoked to deserve this?