Komori Mitsurugi WIP

The beginning of Komori's life was nothing short of peaceful. Her life as a human began in a more culturally represented area of civilization and as such, she had to grow up with rather basic things in life: Fetching her own water, hand washing clothes and dishes, even hunting about for her own food. Of course, she had no ability at a young age to do much of that and as such, she was seen to do more mundane and household tasks. None of it seemed to bother her at all that she knew of, but around the time she had started this, even her parents had been a little more skeptical and avoidant of her around such topics and to deny her any chance to accompany an adult to go hunt or fish.

As a younger teenager, her parents had taken an opportunity and chance to help not only themselves, but their whole village and moved into a city a ways away. A nearby shrine within the city had become vacant and her parents were happy to make a jump and spread the continued peace of peoples wishes and prayers in a place of solace and pride. Shortly after arriving, Komori had to begin adjusting to her new environment and first needed to pick up on a new language on top of her school and housework. She found herself a bit enamored and intrigued in the idea of learning new languages and often found herself picking up on the basics of many different languages but the ones she had seemed to be the most invested in became the forefront of her use of her little free time.

During her time within high school is where things had started to become more clear as to her parents refrain and their true reason of why they were so adamant on moving out of the village and into the city. The class had been out on a trip to a large museum in the city and a tragic incident had occurred that shifted the girls entire psyche for the rest of her life. While traveling from display to display, a regular maintenance checking turned into a harrowing accident as an entire carnivorous skeletal structure collapsed onto the class. Several students barely escaped and one of even fewer in number like Komori had the luck and despairing imprint of watching many of her friends and classmates being crushed and ended before her. Her eyes shook in fear, paralyzed with fear and shock until her eyes could see pooling blood in the distance. A light step triggered the sound one makes when stepping in a small puddle of water and she looked down to see her foot in a dribble of collective types of crimson liquid. Her face and uniform had even had specs and splatter of blood on it and the only thing that she could do was start smiling.

It wasn't until her name was called that she snapped back, the smile quickly vanished, and her attention turned to be pulled away quickly and looked after. For days, weeks, and months after, her mind could never get that day from her mind and after some time, she had begun to laugh. Any time she would accidentally cut herself cutting food or doing tasks, she would giggle and feel this rushing sense of adrenaline. She tried to figure out what this meant, but nothing ever seemed to give her any peace of mind. Through her graduation and subsequent education in universities to achieve several degrees in language studies and landing herself a job as a translator in a very cushy firm, Komori had never been able to discover or figure out any of the questions that rummaged through her head. Why did she live? Why did it have to be her friends? What would have happened if this or that happened instead? Therapists told her that it was standard traumatic questions, but even years later she never was able to find out why. A haunting memory that could never be forgotten.

The years grew worse and worse as it took a further toll on her mind and mental stability. Trying to seek help for years drove her to feel like she was going insane and in a rushing heat of the moment had decided to take her own life with the use of an old firearm that had previously belonged to her father after they moved into the city and he found his love of guns and hunting much more.

Afterlife

The afterlife had been a fresh start for the young woman. Having moved on from her previous life after really having a bit of a breakdown of her life's reflections, she had come to be let in to the Seireitei. It was no real simple or quick decision either, but she felt it had taken much sooner time than she ever would have gotten or seen from others.

Komori was quick to make a few friends amongst her trainee shinigami and she felt a sense of belonging here. Their use of swords was a new thing for her, but she had picked up on hers much quicker than expected, but she struggled in the use of kido or more advanced things. All in all, Komori was a very basic type of recruit but never let that get to her. She had asked questions, sought information and criticism to improve herself. Something about her enjoyment of studying and learning was endearing to her and it was about that time in the high of her enjoyment that it would come crumbling down for her.

A simple training combat using new recruits Zanpakutō was going to be an easy time learning how to swing and feel a sense of connection to their weapons-- or rather, partners as her instructor had put it. As the entire class had been in what was supposed to be a very spacious area and monitored, one of the others had gotten too close and cut Komori's right forearm. The cut wasn't too deep, but her mind and attention was completely opposite to a rational person's initial reaction. She didn't even react to the pain, but she just felt the pulsing pain of screaming nerves while her eyes remained locked to the dripping blood. It was as if a switched flipped when that same person stepped in front of her and then started to berate her for something that was entirely his fault as many others around them had pointed out after the fact. Flickering eyes met with a swift swing of her weapon and put a decent sized, yet shallow cut along the arrogant shinigami's chest. He jumped back and almost immediately laughter ensued. This laughter was not from any in the crowd, from no instructor, and not the belligerent trainee. No, this had been from Komori herself and she began to howl like a maniac in laughter. Raising her weapon as if she were ready to fight this other student, it was quickly squashed when the instructor had to step in and even to use a kido to restrain the injured girl as not to hurt herself or another person.

This initial incident had been looked into and she was reprimanded for her strike back and questioned over it, but it was almost like she had no idea what was happening after the sight of her own blood that day. After that, people were a little worried for and about her being fully sane, but they thought to monitor the situation in case it was something that was just benign or a freak incident. Instead, a slow to follow pattern picked up over years of training and practice. When it came to specifically combat exercises, she was more prone to becoming very erratic and troublesome, but afterwards drive herself into a depressive and reclusive sense of regret and hatred. She begged to keep trying to control this part in her mind by limiting the interactions with others, but by then her whole class and many others had already begun to dub her with several nicknames. From her primarily always keeping her hair in twintails, they had more commonly referred to her as "The Twintail Tyrant" as she became incredibly aggressive, nearly psychotic and overpowering in physical combat where the threat of life could become a problem.

While she had started to think the situation was becoming much more manageable, Komori had discovered that something was starting to get worse. It started when she would fear faint voices in her mind and when she brought it up to an instructor he simply tried to write it off as worrying or simply being from a lack of sleep. This dismissal and avoidance of her peers caused her to seclude more to herself and brought these voices to grow louder in her mind. One night, during the middle of the night she had heard the voice call out loudly in her mind and shot her up in a panic from her sleep. Next to her had been the upper half of a strange fox shaped mask sitting on her pillow. The woman looked to it and reached for it, but the second her finger laid a light touch, it dissolved into the air entirely. She felt like she was going insane and without a second longer of time, a captain had opened the door to her room with their hand on the hilt of their weapon. Seeming surprised and afraid, she had the chance to explain everything that happened as well as the way she'd felt alone and isolated. That was when she was informed of the possibility of her problems. Being this deep down in the wrought of her mind had begun to manifest a power purely of her near constant negative attitude.

While this was no complete solution, she was escorted in the middle of the night to a squad barracks where she was explained of the existence of Vizards and their origins. Since being informed of this, the news tried to shoot up the chain discreetly, however that just didn't go as planned either. Groups of people distanced themselves further and simply condemned her while others were still indifferent as long as they weren't involved in fighting around her. And while this continued on without any interruption, she didn't seem to care to change their opinions. Instead, she put her work into working with those who would actually attempt to embrace and learn the control in hopes this was the key to really getting those flashes of psychotic episodes under control.

Time went on for years and years in working to control her abilities and everything, but it seemed that in doing so was only inviting this to continue more and more. Even during so, Komori expressed her continued hate and frustration with herself. Unlike in her human life, she chose to take a different path and simply resigned herself from the Gotei 13. Her reason being that she couldn't see herself improving mentally, and instead of putting this pressure on those above and on equal footing to her to step on egg shells around her, she would rather ease their burdens and simply try to take up a simple life to be a pacifist of sorts. Expressing to keep channels open with them, she would happily do things akin to record keeping and other assorted busybody like tasks. Happy with just that, Komori moved back to the world of the living to pursue these tasks masked as best as she could as being as average as she could until her job became dissolved and Komori and the Gotei would part on a mutual agreement.