It's all.. Over...

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Kuro fell to his knees, the tears running down his face as he looked blankly on, his arms at his sides like dead weights. The usually overactive shinigami of shadow was... doused. His spirit; he could no longer feel it. He only felt the cold emptiness, the same one that he been inhabiting his soul since he had seen the battle. Jenna, standing there, proclaiming out as she destroyed the Central 46 building, leaving the pile of rubble the edge of which he was now numbing his mind and heart next to.

They poured, two small waterfalls as the immature shinigami reflected on the light that had brought him to his own squad, gone. Gone forever. And there was nothing he could do about it. He fell down onto the ground, smashing it with his fists, his hair covering over his eyes, shut as tight as they were. His whole body was quivering; it was too much. Too much stress. It was compiling up as his body shook; he could feel it coursing through him. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to escape; he didn't want to feel these things. He opened his eyes; feeling blurry at first, the sides of his eyes stinging as the tears flowed freely down them, just falling onto the ground. He stopped moving, his face buried in the dirt, his hope gone, the bright face of the shadow shinigami gone.

His body became covered in a strange darkness, covering from head to foot. He felt like he was on fire, reaching one hand down as he drew out his zanpaktou, the emptiness having returned. He felt like he had nothing left, that empty hollowness was back. He couldn't feel anything. He slapped himself across the face, feeling nothing. His head didn't so much as twitch as he felt the dull sensation of his hand touching his skin. Why... WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING! He yelled in his own mind, drawing out his zanpaktou, his body now vibrating that strange shadow that covered him.

He placed it on his own hand, the blade resting on his skin. He stared at it, mesmerized, as he slid it across from his hand, suddenly feeling the sharp stabbing pain as it sliced into his skin, the blood welling up. It rolled down, covering the shadow in threads of blood along his arm as it went down. He stared at the blood running down his blade, the black blade staring at him. His eyes felt dull, the sharp pains and the dull emptiness making him feel like he was running out of space and time within his own mind. He looked at his zanpaktou, suddenly becoming overcome with horror, throwing it out of his hand.

However, it only fell a few feet from him, the hilt pointing out of the ground, seeming to call to him. He only clutched his sliced hand, falling back onto the ground as he began to close his eyes. He knew he would find no rest... there could be none for him... someone may come along to help him, or harm him, but to him, nothing seemed to matter anymore. The strongest in the Soul Society, its Commander, was dead, and she wasn't coming back.

...That one thought, it kept roaring through his mind, steadily increasing in magnitude as it spread throughout his body as he lie on his stomach on the ground. That Iramasha... that caused her death... destroying her office I painstakingly kept clean for her, blowing up his own barracks because he wasn't strong enough to stand by it...

And they had the BALLS to call me a selfish brat...

Kuro began feeling a strange power taken hold of him; opening his eyes wide in a cold sweat. He opened his eyes, screaming aloud. He felt it taking hold, his entire world becoming dark all around him, feeling the black marks on his hand growing red hot. He grabbed his head, pulling himself up into a ball as he heard himself being lit on fire within himself. His guardian spirit stood over him, looking down sadly at the torn young boy. Kuro's agonizing screams grew louder and louder as the field expanded outwards from himself, trying as hard as he could to close his eyes against this burning pain all over his body.

His breaths were becoming rapid, his heart racing. His eyes were moving back and forth through his mind as the pain in his left hand from cutting himself grew in magnitude, feeling like someone had taken two daggers and was shoving them as hard as they possibly could into his hand. He screamed louder for a moment, throwing up his head, yelling at the stars; or at least, his perception of the stars within his strange dark dome. He opened his eyes wide; he'd never felt any kind of pain like this before. It ran through his entire body, like a flaming dagger ripping through his veins, giving him constant pain as he tried to draw back into himself, feeling that there was no escape.

His overactive mind began to accept the pain after a time, beginning to gradually dull down and stop being so hyperactive, gaining a kind of extremely numb tranquility. Kuro merely lie there on the ground, tears pouring down his face in a slow rhythm as he stared blankly onwards, his breathing slow, as if he was calming down from an insanely great shock. Which, to his body, it was. The power of his zanpaktou that he had been holding back and yet training at the same time all during the last year he had been with the 1st sector broke through, having coursed through and singed every part of his body, forcing him to accept his own power...

He awoke, feeling himself in a cold sweat as he overlooked the ruins of the event. He felt quite strange, like he was filled with a piece of himself that hadn't all BEEN there before. He gingerly ran his left hand over his face, feeling that it was dry once more. He then realized something, looking down as he moved away his left hand. The slash... was gone. he ran his right hand along it, then moved the fingers themselves, feeling how his hand... was completely healed.

However, he didn't get up and jump for joy like he normally would. He... didn't feel any need to. He just felt genuinely happy that he was better; he could feel it within himself. He... had matured. He reached to the blade at his side, realizing what might have taken hold of him. He could feel the phrase now, burned painfully, so painfully, into his mind. He held the blade aloft before himself, putting both hands on the blade's hilt, gripping it tightly and with an assurance he hadn't felt since he ha gone with Jenna herself into the Rukongai. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a little at the now harsh sunlight before him. He opened his mouth slowly, prepared to say the words that would most likely change his life... for better or for worse. Hope you're ready... He opened his mouth wide, looking right at the sun as he yelled his words.

"The realm of shadow takes us all, release Akai me no Kuroi Inu!"

He cried out in a deep voice. He suddenly jerked a bit as his blade vanished, a shadowy substance replacing it. His hands that had moved to either side suddenly became filled with half of the shadow each; he could suddenly feel a hilt in his hands. He gripped them tightly, feeling the smooth handles on his skin. He brought them before himself, examining his shikai for the first time.

They were beautiful daggers... almost sword length, but definitely light enough to be used one in each hand. The tip was pointed like an arrow, but towards the hilt it had metal of the blades that stuck out to either side, followed by another curved edge that stretched up from the hilt to just below the tips on either side. Not touching them, but another part of the all black blades with their smooth straight handle in his grip.

He spun one around experimentally, finding he could easily turn them around in his hands, building up momentum and some strange energy. He began to notice the strange shadowy aura all around himself, beginning to experiment with it. After a time, he began to realize it was night. He sealed the daggers once more, releasing his hold on them and watching their vapory form return to the sheathe at his side, comfortable in their spot. He smiled for a moment, feeling for just a second that all was right with the world, that same grin when he had first gone along with Jenna to bust those gang members.

It quickly vanished, but was replaced by a look of steely determination as he turned around from the ruins at last. He gave one last look back, reaching his hands up to the top of his head. He gripped his headphones in his hands, his trademarks, so comfortable on their seat atop his head. He pulled them off his skull, slowly, feeling his hair part oddly as they began occupying a space they had not in some time. He kneeled down, setting the headphones on the ground in front of the ruins, unable to hold back a single tear as it dripped down from his face, landing in the dust in the middle of the ring of his headphones.

He stood up abruptly, his smooth black hair moving oddly with him, no longer bound by his headphones. He rested one hand on his zanpaktou, moving with a purpose like he had never before done in his life. It was time to change things. For Jenna's sake. For the Soul Society's sake. For his own. However, he resolved something in the back of his mind.

Azure Iramasha... I will make him repent for his crimes. For his quitter attitude, acting as such an immature catalyst... I can't let him live care-freely with the knowledge of what he's done. That, I shall do for Jenna. She may not have wanted it... but it's right. I know it is. So I must be the one to force his conscious to realize what he has done...

Jenna... Rest in Peace. The Soul Society... is in good hands.