The Crush of Defeat [Liltotto, Natasha]

"It's my fault for not being able to do it myself!" Her exhausted tone suddenly rose into a snap, slamming a fist on the surface of the bed with a dull thud. The air in the room thickened and heavied with the sudden spike and ebb of her Reiatsu, "If I could carry myself, you wouldn't have to worry about me. Nobody would. I could have taken care of it, I had all the time in the world to be able to become something even the fucking Gotei could fear, but I wasted it because you know what? I wanted to kill myself, and I thought I managed to, but in the end it turns out I just made a huge waste of time out of myself. I could've become something that could hit back, but no, i'm just a useless sack'a'shit deserter just like back then."

Panting, she hardly let herself have time to breathe, "You have no idea how it feels to watch people far younger than you have more potential and promise, while you're just... Nothing. I'm not human, i'm not a Quincy, i'm just, some thing playing pretend as I stumble on my feet and play pretend. Even if I can copy some shit, it's not the same, it's like i'm put behind a wall nobody else sees. And the worst part is that the last person who could ever relate to me doesn't even exist anymore."

Expression twisted with pain, she'd keep pressing on, "I'm not like you, i'm not like Administrator Eisfluch or Arant, i'm not like Ätherisch, or Helle, or Dorian, or anybody. I'm just the unpleasant monster that failed to die," Her tense expression lapsed into a far more mourning look, despair on her features as her head dipped, hands covering her features,

"...What use am I if I can't even defend what I have left?"

At that sudden outburst, Natasha held herself silent. She understood what came with forcing this woman to face the torturous part of her soul head on. The notion of telling her that things would be alright and attempt some futile consoling was not going to cut it here.

Addressing everything she felt must have been terrible to endure for Liltotto, but that was precisely why it was so important to let it out. Even as she admonished herself and aired out her thoughts regarding her capabilities compared to their own, there was no doubt in Natasha's mind that she could overcome it. She may have been correct in everything she said, but it didn't have to stay that way.

Maybe it was foolish optimism, or maybe there was simply no option other than believing, but no matter one chose to look at it, it was an absolute necessity for her to air this out. Did she have anything to reassure her without it coming across as blind bravado? Of course not. They lost. The only question was how would they deal with it? An outstretched hand reached to squeeze the woman's fist as she sighed softly, ruminating on her next words, in spite of the fact that there were so little few to offer.

"It's not your fault, and I'm not backing down on that. Who said you ever had to do it on yer own, Lil? Far as I'm concerned, I'm the goddamn Coordinator here and I didn't fare any better. For once, stop placing the blame squarely on yer shoulders, ya hear? No one's demandin' you to be like any of us." She exclaimed those words softly, gritting teeth as her feet shuffled around in frustration. Her body was in immense pain, but even that was secondary to the anger that occupied her soul

"...I know I sure as hell ain't. And yer not some unpleasant monster, either, so cut that talk out. We messed up. I ain't sugarcoatin' that by a mile, but it isn't just on you. I could have did better, too. By the time it was over, we were all runnin' with our tails between our legs. Instead of being like any of us, find what works for you and cultivate that shit. Become a monster in a different sense - both of us. I won't let you beat yourself into the ground about this. You can't do it alone, and I'm tired of thinking it's okay to simply let you handle your issues on your own anymore. I'm here. I'll always be here. And I'm gonna keep reminding you of that even if you end up hating me for it."

She didn't deserve to be the only one who had to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders. It was a cruel fate to resign oneself to, and Natasha didn't care what needed to be said, or how she had to act. She didn't have any magic words to solve her issues, but she had her earnest feelings.

Her eyes burned from that question, 'who ever said that she had to do it on her own'. Dead silence struck her as Natasha spoke to her, tried to encourage her, tried to show her some path to what to do... But it was useless. It was all useless. She felt so useless. Her hands felt so weak they fell to her sides, her gaze refusing to lift. Every pick up just felt like leverage to fall deeper into the abyss.

"I have to," Her defeated tone responded, "I don't get a choice in this, Natasha. I never got a choice. Even when I tried to put it off, I knew in the back of my mind that debt was still there."

Feeling lower than dirt, she'd sink to lie down, "They all died because of me, Nat. In that first war. The war I was trained for, raised up for, and ran away from. If I was just better, if I just lived up to what that bastard wanted me to be, just a stupid weapon, maybe... The genocide wouldn't have happened..."

Her gaze was firmly on the ceiling, "Maybe an unfeeling weapon. Maybe I could've eaten him. Maybe I could've done a lot of things to stop that. But I didn't. I failed. I'm... Supposed to be some piece of the Soul King or whatever, but I don't even know what that means. The only way I seem to get anything is from eating people; anything I build on my own is slow and shitty. All I do is take, Nat. That's all i'm good at, like a parasite."

Encouragement was useless here. Worth little more than a bottle of piss. No matter what she said, her dear companion went back to admonishing herself. There was no hint of acknowledging her words. She might as well have been speaking to a porcelain doll that could move and speak at this point. And that hurt her more than anything else.

To know that for all the memories or reminders you could show someone, they always seemed to inevitably fall back into some unreasonable frame of mind. What hurt the most was that she definitely understood the cause. She was at the centerfold of the battle, after all.

To drive the knife deeper, if she could have handled something better, resorted to a stronger technique, entered the battlefield with Letz or Volstandig in hand... perhaps she could have changed the results. To avoid seeing her like this. To avoid feeling like an utter failure of a woman for failing to draw her away from that bottomless pit of inferiority she resided in. Debt? Parasite? Monster? Each word that dripped from her lips had caused her to clench her fists so hard that her palms were bleeding now. Even if she was not the sole reason for their defeat, she was placing all of the blame on her shoulders.

What did that say about her? She wasn't allowed to help? Why couldn't she help? They were friends, right? Companions who vowed to help the other, so why? What was it she was doing wrong? She understood none of this. None of the connections she shared with the Soul King or the miserable past spent fighting under Yhwach. She never spent one day in her shoe, that much was certain, but she was trying. So why? Why did she just feel like the bystander to someone else's downfall, no matter how many times she tried her best? What did that make her? Why did it all have to fall on her? Why did it seem like nothing she said meant a damn? Why did she go to this extreme length to label herself as some wicked beast that deserved to answer for her crimes from the past?

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!

Before words exited her lips, the clenched fist roared in first, striking Liltotto dead across the face with enough force to break her own arm in the process.

"Take yer fuckin head out of yer ass for once and let someone carry you for once, dammit! Monster? Parasite? Do you even hear what you're saying right now!? No matter what I do, It feels like I can't reach you... and I hate that you deny me the chance to offer even a semblance of help! That's all I want. To help and care for you. That's what this friendship means to me! To be there for you when things get rough, not get turned away from the goddamn door!"

Dragging her forward by the hem of her hospital gown, Natasha gazed into her eyes with a ferocity atypical of the composure she commonly maintained. Even now, every movement felt like hell. And yet, none of that hurt nearly as much as knowing that nothing she said was having any effect. Compared to that, the pain she felt now was secondary.

"Shoot it to me straight. If nothin' I'm sayin'll get through today or well beyond today - then let me know right now. I can't pretend I know any of this shit about the Soul King or your past with Yhwach. I can't pretend I can solve the existential crisis you deal with every second of every day. I can only remind you of the people who care about you, the people who are willing to overlook your past, those who genuinely desire to grow stronger with you so that you don't have to bear all of that weight on your shoulders. But if yer willing to ignore all of that and still foolishly punish yourself for the past... then we're done here. I love you, Liltotto. Like another sister I never had. But I can't bear to see you like this. And if I can't help you... then what else is there for me to say?"

She felt sick to her stomach with her efforts of pushing her friend away; part of her wanted to stop and trust her friend, but three more insisted she didn't deserve that level of understanding and bonding, that she wouldn't get it no matter what she did. It was a hole she was comfortable living in and digging deeper, it wasn't like trying to climb out led to anything but falling. Maybe Natasha would think lesser of her for this embarrassing behavior, maybe her weakness would drive a wedge in her friendship, maybe she's already burned that perfectly good bri-

The scent of stress wasn't even noticed in her stew of thoughts until the resulting blow forced it to the front of her mind. A typical person likely would've gained a newly broken jaw from how hard the punch felt, but to a being such as herself it was hardly painful, more like a slap than a full jab. The resulting whip of the head culminated into a jarring break from her pejorative thinking.

Eyes wide, a hand slowly rose to touch her cheek, staring back at Natasha's furious gaze as the woman's fervent yells were thrown in her face. She remained with the same silent, shocked expression, as if new life and energy had been breathed into her from the act of violence. She knew her actions were causing her friend pain, but she had hoped it'd be something breezed over. If not, the fallout was easy to place on herself.

...None of this was chalking up to be easy. What was she thinking? Was she really so wishy-washy with her own friend's emotions? Or was she valuing her own comfort over...

... That was what was happening. She couldn't deny it any more. She couldn't keep pretending she was sparing her friend the misfortune of having her around.

A shock of guilt dropped on her head like a rock with her mind being forced to acknowledge the truth.

No words were spoken as she stared at her comrade in pure silence, instead... Her eyes grew wet and shimmered with pools of sadness, lip in a slight quiver, face beginning to redden.

It wasn't like she had much of a face of pride to maintain, anyway. Her emotions decided to run away from her, at least for a bit.

"..m' sorry." Words clumsily left her lips as mere eyewatering turned into full on tears. Visceral discomfort was felt in crying, much more in crying in front of another person... But what else was she supposed to do?

"...I don't wanna lose anybody else..."

To strike her with such force, even if amounted to little more than a slap, was a profoundly excruciating act. To a woman who had never resorted to this level of physical force with a loved one to begin with, it was difficult to think of her next words. What other options did she have? None of her words, as far as she concerned, were being registered. Every reassurance felt as if it had fallen on deaf ears.

The moment Liltotto turned back, her eyes filled with tears, that faulty composure truly unraveling at the seams, Natasha found herself unable to maintain the rage that had roared to the surface. No, that was incorrect. The ferocity in her expression hadn't wholly diminished. What was it then? Desperation? Exasperation? Not even she could tell anymore.

Even so, the contortion of her face was telltale proof enough of her limit reaching its breaking point. It was torturously unbearable to listen to Liltotto speak so lowly of herself. Every time she spoke, it had never been what Natasha viewed her as, but as if she were an accursed existence that was simply being tolerated. It tore her apart. At the core of it all... she just wanted to support her. To carry out her genuine duty as a close friend.

"...I can't force myself to pretend that it doesn't hurt to see you admonishing yourself like this. The ghosts of your past can shove it up their ass for all I care... I just want to help you. Is that so hard to ask? Is my definition of a friend skewered or somethin'? I don't see nobody who deserves to pay for their sins of the past, let alone some alien parasite that feels she shoulda died centuries ago because of past errors. I just see... Liltotto. And all I see is that she's in pain right now, but I... I get pushed away for tryin' to do my job as a friend... and it hurts."

The grief in her expression overwrote the rage that bolstered her moments ago. Releasing her grip from the hem of her hospital gown, Natasha firmly winded her arms around the woman. Her arm was worse for wear, but that didn't really matter at all. None of her injuries mattered. Even now, it was unclear if her point had gotten across. Regardless, she wasn't going to let this persist any longer. Her heart couldn't bear it.

"I can't bear to see you relapse. Not with all of effort you've made to get to this point. So please.... please... can I just help for once? Lemme fulfill my role as a friend. Lemme be a shoulder to lean on. Don't push me away anymore."

Though her tears were quiet, her expression was plenty sullen and expressing of her sadness as that bitter liquid rolled down her face in droves. There was hardly a thing she could say here, she hardly had the strength to even begin with anything that ran through her thoughts. Her belly hurt; the sensation of starving coming back to her, even her arms were trembling. Hunger discomfort, letting a friend down, and wounds weren't a great mix, it just made her face sour. Her gaze was fixed on Nat as she expressed so strongly how much it hurt that she couldn't help, that she wanted to be there for her, that... She only saw Liltotto.

A deep breath, her expression worsening with pain and misery, she didn't stop Natasha from hugging her. In fact, she'd lean into the hug with what little energy she had. With how many tears fell, she swore she sprung two leaks instead of the one.

"...Nat.." Finally mustering the strength to speak, voice hardly above a whisper, "... Think I'm... Too weak to talk through this r'now... S'alright if I just..."

Her sentence broke into silence, nothing but tears to be heard briefly, before she spoke up again, "... M'real hungry..."

If a miracles or wishes genuinely existed in this world, she would have chosen the ability to erase everything that weighed this woman's soul down. The existential torment, the crown of shame she chose to wear for being born in a circumstance she held no control over, the obsessive need to undeservedly answer for her preconceived sins. She could strike her a thousand times, cry out until her throat grew hoarse. She could even threaten that their bond would be severed today, but what would that do? No, it had finally dawned on her. This somber clarity standing at the front of her soul. The undeniable reality that, as things stood now, there was no miraculous method she could employ to fix the cause of Liltotto's anguish, no time-altering skill she could invoke to erase her past.

Words, actions, pleas, demands... they would all prove useless. Carrying someone on one's shoulder dictates that they must hold some measure of understanding, after all. Outside of the mutual wish to avoid losing anyone else, Natasha couldn't understand a single thing. She was no piece of the soul king, little more than a mere flesh and blood human being who hadn't even lived half of her lifetime. It was humbly harsh to recognize that she wouldn't be the one to fix this for her, that perhaps, someone else who resonated with her existence might well hold the key to the answers she was looking for. What a fool she was.

Even so, fool though she may have been, delusional as she felt, her firm embrace would not waver. It would settle down long enough until the tears had subsided. When the time was appropriate, when Natasha recognized that it was likely time to allow her space, she released her the tight grip she held on the woman. Running a hand along her face, Natasha sighed with the crush of defeat in her tone.

"Nah... I get it, sugar. I... think I oughta give ya some space. I'll make sure the nurses give you plenty of food. I probably reinjured my arm, so m'gonna head on back to my room."

Rising from her chair, an exasperated exhale exited her lips as she held onto her arm. Turning her back to her companion as she headed to the exit. There were several emotions that raged like a whirlwind contained within a poorly constructed box. Anger. Frustration. Defeat. Desperation. Hope. None of it mattered now in any case. She walked away empty handed, unable to spark a light in her eyes.

"I'll always be here if ya need me, Lil. Always..."

With that, she passed through the door, her posture languid, her gait a stumbling mess. Soul-draining experience as it was, she silently prayed that someone would carry out what she could not achieve herself...