02:How Far is "too Far?"

“Why lend my power to you?” 

“Why save your life?” 

“You aren’t even worthy to be called my ‘creator’.” 

It was easy to ignore at first—the sounds—the invectives as my Spirit continued to entice the Shinigami’s dejection. Mocking had become nothing more than a sport to the grandiose Dragon that still failed to show his face or bear his fangs. While pleasant, he only conjectured even more; why hide yourself? 

The further he walked, the barer he became. First, it was his armor; seemingly vanishing in a swift breeze colored the stained red of his habiliment. Soon after, his Zanpakutō cease to exist along his side as the man was speciously stripped of his offense and defense. The Haori soon followed after, leaving Itada to fend in his normal garbs—he was exposed. He felt lighter yet the weight couldn’t have felt any heavier as this vulnerability was a foreign sensation to the man who only knew success and strength. 

To think a world now painted in black and grey could grow even darker was unfathomable, though this ambiguity soon found substance. The further he continued in, the denser the forestry became, the closer the trees moved together and the less light that once glinted from the saddened moon failed to meet the ground. What Itada considered sight to be had diminished into pure intuition as he moved without a conspicuous guide. And before long, he was trapped in a state of total, complete darkness.

He could hear himself think as his thoughts, within a thought-simulated world spoke loud. Each step he took, the thump it made when he progressed became overwhelming as it was the only indication of physical sound to be heard. And lastly, his breath, when he could hear himself breathe that slow, hesitant breath, the Shinigami became all the more frustrated. How could it be so empty? Why was he alone?

Stopping in his tracks, Itada alleviated himself of those god-awful steps he once utilized. He calmed his breathing, regulating the respiratory function as he silenced his breathes down to minimal enunciating. His thoughts were sealed away; Itada was overthinking the situation, he had to regain control.

“Seken Chōdairyū…. I know you’re here.” He announced, though once again in a near muted tone; no one else needed to hear his thoughts, or his words. The Dragon, if he truly wanted to, would hear his name with the strongest of clarity.

……

The air grew silent, as the bristling leaves ceased to move and Itada, still fixated in a motionless posture, waited unwearyingly. It was nerve-racking at first, being so silent and ignored, however, this developed into a subtle tranquility; it became almost tolerable. Had this been the peace he was searching for all along?

…..

“So you finally decided to truly call out to me, boy.”