The Dragon of the North, Seiryuu
| It was true that following her with his eyes was difficult without the aid of his Shikai; however, even before he had released, there was one thing which aided him; his sensitivity to reishi. He could feel her moving about, the intensity of her reiatsu letting him know her location just as well as any other beacon would have. She was not particularly stealthy in that manner, but it did not matter to Iriko in either case.|
As he watched her flit about, moving in all kinds of directions, the sunlight behind her really didn't change much for him. The truth was that Iriko could feel the massive amount of reiatsu that was building up around her, and at last as she pinned him down, he realized what she was going to use it for. Well this is bad… He reflected as his eyes narrowed, and in that final instant, the most intense moment of truth, with her body beginning to release the attack from herself… a bubble wandered in front of them, as if flitting about.
This bubble was STRUCK with the kido, the intensity not being able to be contained as it focused the blast, changing the attack into something more like a spear as it shot into Iriko, causing his eyes to widen from sheer pain and his mouth open as blood fell out, his stomach having been the most vital thing hit by the redirection, leaving a bloody hole in his clothes that just became matted and disgusting against his body due to her heat around them. When his attack was sent back, it merely bounced away from him, and he wondered for the first time why it was that both she and her husband deemed fit to ignore his attacks. Are my skills really so far beneath notice…? He wondered to himself, his eyes narrowing slightly as he felt his entire body fighting to stay upright, the hair that had appeared around his body being exposed to the energy of his Shikai.
In an instant, they were vaporized; while the hair was strong, they were far from omnipotent, and Iriko had dealt with it enough to know around what the threshold of its resistance was. Really, it was getting a little bit boring to him now, seeing her use the same things all the time, but he was still plagued by that one thought as he stood there, still bleeding rapidly as he pressed a hand against his stomach, closing his eyes after his assault against her. While she dealt with the black boxes, a red bubble emerged from the bubble, his eyes widening greatly as red energy shot out, the Shakkaho flying through his body like a beam as it crisped the inside of his body. Coughing up even more body, he seemed to be sporting something akin to a hollow hole now in the middle of his stomach, but his eyes remained looking forwards. It was a true credit to his resistance to pain that he barely seemed to be reacting to it; in reality… it hurt more than most things could be imagined.
As she began to absorb the boxes into her little kido… there was a snap. Iriko blinked, as a small explosion occurred from the amount she had attempted to absorb. His own bubbles were among them; and they would not be denied as they pierced the outside of the container, the power so great that it shattered in a small explosion with what had not been broken down, likely leaving small burns around her wrists and arms as a result. His left arm laid over the wound in his stomach, his eyes looking at her almost dully. How truly…. Awe inspiring… I was not aware there was such a figure currently in the Gotei… I have fallen behind; so far behind. So far away… He reflected solemnly, his outlook beginning to darken as he at last looked up to meet her eyes once more.
"...Wait for what." He stated back to her, his eyes looking at her cautiously, the slime beginning to increase in size at a great rate as he felt pressured. The strange being looked at her dead on, his eyes looking directly at hers. His were dull; not shining, not even looking particularly focusing on the fact that her body was being gently cut at her clothes ripped and tore by the blades she passed in order to reach him, his eyes seeing that look in her face. As he did so, he got scared for the first time. It was those eyes again; those eyes that had hurt him. Those eyes, that face, that look; it was a look, a look from his past. It was the face of the one who had burned him, the one who had destroyed him; the one who had made him, the one he hated, the one he loved, the one who defined him and left him with nothing, had left him with nothing; tempted him with hope, only to take that away as well! Such torment clouded his mind as his mouth opened partly, his eyes changing to an expression of total timidity that he looked for all the world as if he wanted to just step back. To run away; to get away from her. That was how strong his survival instinct to remove himself from this situation was, and when those words left her throat it felt like a terrific blaze had appeared in his mind.
He was about to cry out "NO", to deny her, to push her away, to try to protect himself, before suddenly something happened. She was holding him; he was in her embrace. His entire body quivered, and slime began to pour from his eyes and face, running down their bodies as his lip quivered. The sadness; at last, the sadness came through. Not the anger, not the hatred; not the desire to protect ones self, not the love that he had once been filled to the brim with, but sadness. A wail of pure sadness, of heart-wrenching, total defeat, left his mouth, as if held back for years as she held him in her embrace, the feeling something that he didn't feel like he could deal with as slime pooled intensely around his legs, before finally the bubble broke.
Slime exploded outwards, pouring out over the ground below and completely covering around it as the ground within the barrier became swamped with Iriko's excretions. His arms gripped around her body, as tight a grip as they could manage with the slime in the way, and he clung to her. He clung to her like he hadn't clung to any other person in well over four hundred years; and he let out the emotion within him. All the pain of being broken, the darkness that consumed him from the inside; he could not be fixed now, he knew that. But still, from the time before he was broken; the breaking had never been come to terms with. Never before had he felt like this before as on her shoulder the entirety of her back became covered in slime, dripping down her body and sliding in among and through her clothing. The sniffing of his need to draw breath caused his entire body to shake, but when he attempted to breathe he was stopped in order so that his body could wail once more.
That embrace; it was strange. Never before could Iriko remember the likeness of a mother or father; the camaraderie of another. He held ties of brotherhood, but that brotherhood did nothing for this pain spawned from a lack of the deep connection with another. This was something that could only be cured from being clutched at, embraced, held. For him to be refused the ability to run away from his fears; this is what Aiko had provided for him, and his body simply reacted. He himself didn't think about what he was doing; it merely happened, a natural bodily response. If she would let him go he would fall back, spitting and crying still, into his own slime. If she held onto him, then he would go on for over five minutes, drenching her completely and the area beneath them becoming an even swamp of slime as a result of the excretions that were being released from his person. At last, he would begin to calm down, and if she allowed him to calm down to the point where his breathing was normal, he would be able to stand stock still again.
However, he would not make a move yet; she would have to start things up again. For right now, his brain was numb; it had gone through too much release to immediately respond, and while his mind was currently at an insane amount of chaos, it was no longer covered down among layers of complete and total indifference. There were feelings within him that had been brought to the surface; from here on out, the fight would take a different type of tone. The only question was how Aiko would re-engage it from how it had once been; if she did at all. The truth was, Iriko wasn't certain if he himself was ready to keep going; heck, he didn't even know how she would react to his actions. It was very likely she ran away… If that were to happen, he would likely either completely stop reacting to anything… or go completely and utterly berserk.
Who knew what would happen..? Only one woman, and she was most certainly the one now covered in slime all over her body, even seeping between the fingers of her gloves, who heard for herself the actual wailing pain of this miserable creature before her, a sound that had been hear from no other and at its greatest level was one thing, and only one thing. For this Shinigami, this being who carried himself so highly and with such skill, and yet so indifferent, it was truly…
Core Elements Devised by Aivee