Kurotsuchi Mayuri ran through the final stages of his various projects before shutting them down for the night and leaving several in stasis for continuation. He walked down the labyrinthine hallways of his domain to stop in front of his LieutenantÆs bedroom. He took a few moments to consider his actions and entered without even bothering to knock.
In front of him was his daughter Nemu as she meticulously lay down her bedding and made to sleep for the night. Noticing her superiorÆs presence, she stopped before turning to face her creator.
ôMayuri-sama,ö Nemu said as she looked emotionlessly at her father.
ôJust checking in to see what mess you have made now,ö Mayuri sneered. ôI see that miraculously, there is none.ö
Nemu hid a small smile at the slight hint of praise. ôThank you.ö
Turning to go feeling satisfied that there was nothing requiring his correction, Mayuri stopped at his inferiorÆs call.
ôMayuri-sama, I would like to ask something of you,ö Nemu whispered.
He looked studiously at his daughter before snapping out ôWell? Hurry it up then.ö
ôI request a story from you Mayuri-sama. I was told at a recent WomanÆs Association Meeting that such things were commonly given from father to daughter during night.ö
ôIt is a wonder that such a stupid thought could be uttered from your mouth you insolent girl. Why I have half a mind to not let you sleep but beat you to unconsciousness right now,ö hissed Mayuri.
ôàHowever,ö he mused feeling his mercurial mood brighten. ôI am willing to do this for you tonight.ö
Mayuri wondered if he was going mad. To think that he would lower himself to giving a story to thisà well, it had been a good day. Wonderful results from a few pet projects and a budget increase from the Chamber had given him high spirits.
ôOnce upon a time there was a man. He lived. He died. The end,ö Mayuri said quickly before turning to leave once more.
ôI was told that is an inappropriate story form. Might I request another Mayuri-sama?ö Nemu asked.
ôOh? Any particular themes you wish? A dashing tale of romance and heroism perhaps? A story of true love conquering all? One adulterated by time so that all mentions of truth are gone only to be replaced with fanciful tales to soothe egos?ö Mayuri asked sarcastically.
ôYes.ö
Mayuri found his face flushing with embarrassment that his progeny had failed to grasp the concept of sarcasm. He bit back the instinctive response to swipe his hand across her cheek to consider her request. And surprisingly enough he did have one for her. He took a few moments to compose his thoughts.
ôOnceà,ö Kurotsuchi Mayuri began.
Once there was a man.
A nameless man barely into adulthood surrounded by a field of the dead lay bleeding into the mud.
Every fiber of his being screaming in protest, the man hissed in pain as his blood soaked hands shifted position for the nth time trying to keep in his intestines. A bloody spear had been ripped out in his panic and the man swore at himself for pulling it out when the weapon could have kept him alive a bit longer. Sweat dripped down the manÆs forehead unceasingly as he blinked again and again to keep moisture out of his eyes.
ôHey,ö the man tried to whisper inwardly grimacing as all that came out was a choked moan.
ôHey,ö the man tried again this time with more success. ôHey Hoshi, you alright there?ö he said to the man lying face up besides him.
No response came from the dead man as cloudy eyes gazed up into the sky.
ôHa you bastard, I canÆt believe you beat me to death,ö the man said conversationally as he tried to keep his mind off his stomach wound. Then realizing what he said, he burst into wet laughter at a joke that he would never had considered funny had he been anywhere else.
He glanced to the side and grimaced as he spied the open eyes of his former friend. Gingerly, the man took off one of his hands to try and shut the dead manÆs eyes.
He apologized to the manÆs spirit as his hand left bloody smears across the friendÆs face, leaving the man painted red but with thankfully closed eyes. The bloody hand took its place at the stomach once more.
ôI donÆt want to die,ö sobbed the nameless man.
ôI donÆt want to die here. I justà I didnÆt even ask to fight. I was happy farming you know? Iàö
The dead man besides him did not talk back.
ôOh shut up, it was your fault we got here anyway. I liked farming but that was never enough for you was it hero? You just had to run off to join the army and I had to follow to make sure you were alright.ö
Mentally picturing the dead manÆs responses, he continued.
ôAnd now here we are bleeding into the dirt with a hundred others while those fucking nobles just go on to get some more of us to shove into their enemies. IsnÆt that fantastic?ö came a bitter voice.
ôYou know I never told you this, but I met this Christian once. Yeah yeah, I should have reported that loony but you know, he said something nice about death. That after we die, weÆll go to this nice place where nothing can bother us. None of that karma shit, doesnÆt that sound nice? I thought so too,ö the man said feverishly.
ôI donÆt want to die though. I donÆt want to die,ö he repeated as though it was a mantra that could save him.
ôI donÆt even know how to read. I never even got a wife yet unlike some of those lucky bastards back home. IÆm just poor old me. Never had anything valuable and going to die alone here in this fucking field.ö
Feeling himself grow weaker and weaker, the man stopped talking trying to hold in every last bit of life he had left.
But the minutes ticked away and the blood pool around him just grew bigger and bigger.
æMaybe that Christian was right. Maybe I will go someplace nice,Æ he hoped.
The man breathed.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
He stopped.
Surrounded by an army of blades and bodies, the nameless man died.
And then he woke up.
A lost man who had no direction in life.
When he woke up, the man found himself in a field of grass as green and pure as heÆd ever seen. And he laughed and laughed thinking himself in heaven. He was hungry as hell but goddamn it if he wasnÆt happy.
Then the blade came down.
Only a quick sideways roll saved him as the man pushed himself up the ground desperately, not caring if the grass and dirt stained his new white clothes.
ôShit, I missed,ö said a man as he tugged on his sword before he wrenched it from the ground.
ôThatÆs because you suck boss,ö came a sarcastic response from one of several men surrounding him.
ôAh shaddup ya idiot,ö the man snapped before looking at the figure pulling himself off the ground.
ôWhatÆs your name?ö
Desperate and confused, the man came up with the first thing he knew ôYamada Taro.ö
As one, the entire group burst into laughter and the newly christened Taro followed along hoping to escape pain. His hunger grew by the second though and he started to rub his stomach trying to calm it down.
ôWell isnÆt that a coincidence. æCause we got a Yamada Taro right there,ö the man pointed to a lanky man with a cruel smirk, æand there,Æ this time gesturing to a more heavyset man with a deep scar that split his face into near halves.
ôAnd IÆm Shinjiro Kida, the boss of the Zaraki Tigers. ArenÆt you glad to meet someone so famous?ö
ôUm, who?ö Taro asked before cringing at the outburst.
ôYa deaf or something? IÆm the boss ofà wait a minute. Those clothesà they look new. You just die or something?ö
ôYes,ö Taro said hoping the truth would keep him out of trouble.
All the while though, his stomach roared at him to eat.
ôHoho, a new guy huh? I guess I should make the grand introduction then. LetÆs start. YOU just died and came HERE to the outskirts of District 80 of Southern Rukongai. You can call it Zaraki. Zaraki here is where the strongest makes the rules and since I have a sword, I am stronger than you. Got that?ö Kida asked.
Taro nodded not trusting himself to speak.
With a satisfied grunt Kida continued.
ôNow we just got here into what looks like what we call a conundrum. Cause you just came, you donÆt got anything worth stealing and I sure as hell donÆt need another sword around here. My boys are good enough already. We got a very elite group and donÆt need someone like you. So the question for me right now is, do I kill you fast or do I kill you slow?ö
At that the entire gang burst into laughter yet again seeing the horrified look on TaroÆs face.
Flushing in horror, Taro cringed as his stomach finally roared its displeasure to everyone around him.
The laughter stopped instantly.
ôYou hungry?ö Shinjiro asked as he focused all his attention on Taro.
ôUm, yes?ö Taro answered questioningly. The man hadnÆt eaten in over a day even before his death.
Shinjiro actually took back a step at that suddenly looking unsure of himself.
ôBoss, heà he just said heÆs hungry. Is heà is he like you?ö asked one of KidaÆs flunkies uncertainly.
ôShut it, IÆm thinking,ö Kida snapped over his shoulder before looking back at Taro.
ôGuess IÆll kill you fast then,ö Kida said before coming to attack Taro with his sword raised high.
Taro backstepped before tripping over himself and held his arms high to block while shutting his eyes hoping he could somehow save himself.
The blade impacted against TaroÆs outstretched arms before it stopped. Taro hesitantly opened his eyes again and watched as Shinjiro KidaÆs arms fell off at the elbow. The exact place where the blade had impacted against TaroÆs body.
Screaming in pain Kida fell to the ground as his blood stained the verdant grass crimson while his entire gang cried out.
ôHe just killed the boss!ö
ôNo he didnÆt, he just chopped off his arms is all!ö
ôWh-what do we do?ö
ôThereÆs only one of him, letÆs go kill him,ö said one as he ripped out his rusty sword followed shortly by all his comrades.
As one they all struck TaroÆs body and as one, they all fell screaming as the backlash of their own attacks killed them all. It was there that Yamada Taro learned that even the dead could die and die quickly and in agony.
Surrounded by blood, Yamada Taro slowly picked himself off the ground again. He looked at the men who had bled out before vomiting up stomach acid at the sight of the damned. His apparent nonactions had made him even hungrier though and he ignored his repulsions and rummaged through the dead menÆs corpses praying again for their souls as he looked for food.
No such luck was found. Instead, all he found was rusted steel. Too hungry to care, Taro limped to a still green patch of grass to tear them out at their roots and shoved the green strips in his mouth. His molars grinded them to powder and his throat forced down the bitter grass before he repeated himself over and over until he lost track.
At this point the hunger he felt was beyond compare and he looked this time at the bodies of the dead. He turned back and munched on grass again and again hoping he wouldnÆt have to resort to that.
But again, no such luck.
He turned again to face the dead. Praying toà anything, Taro forced himself alongside a body. He looked away as a hand tried to find a knife. As he succeeded and gripped it properly, Taro turned the knife down and cut.
And he cut.
And he cut.
When he had a pile ofà nutrients in front of him, Taro looked away even further. Not caring how ridiculous he must have looked, he grabbed a strip of me- protein from behind him and ate. He didnÆt even bother to chew not trusting himself and just swallowed. His stomach began to calm down then and Taro just continued mechanically knowing he was justified but hating himself all the while. After his hand could feel no more nutrients he looked to the now dark sky before screaming in agony at his actions.
The now slick hand rubbed itself against the grass hoping to clean away the stain while Taro held back in his vomit knowing that if his didnÆt hold back, he would have to repeat the process over again. Tasting the sour phlegm, he swallowed before getting up and running.
A part of his soul died that day as he continued to run.
Yamada Taro found a river hours later. Not caring where it came from or where it led, he jumped in.
The current swallowed him whole and carried him along for a while.
The entire time, Yamada Taro tried to dunk his head in and dive all the way to the bottom only for a bump in the river to lift him up and force in air between his nostrils before Taro tried again.
Blinded by the spray all around him, Taro eventually gave up trying to drown and hoped that the river would carry him to a lake where he could die in peace. He did not succeed. A wooden pole knocked him on the head and Taro instinctively grabbed hold of the hardened wood and felt himself dragged ashore before he could let go. Coughing up water all the while, an enraged Taro blinked furiously trying to see clear at his misinformed savior to vent his rage before jumping back in.
All thoughts of protest and self-loathing died the moment he looked up into the face of the most beautiful woman heÆd even seen.
But then he found love.
---
A story of one of my favorite assholes and his growth from an awkward frightened man to a scary as hell Jerkass.
Starting from his death to the creation Nemu.
I really should be working on all my other stories but I really just don't give a damn at this point.
In front of him was his daughter Nemu as she meticulously lay down her bedding and made to sleep for the night. Noticing her superiorÆs presence, she stopped before turning to face her creator.
ôMayuri-sama,ö Nemu said as she looked emotionlessly at her father.
ôJust checking in to see what mess you have made now,ö Mayuri sneered. ôI see that miraculously, there is none.ö
Nemu hid a small smile at the slight hint of praise. ôThank you.ö
Turning to go feeling satisfied that there was nothing requiring his correction, Mayuri stopped at his inferiorÆs call.
ôMayuri-sama, I would like to ask something of you,ö Nemu whispered.
He looked studiously at his daughter before snapping out ôWell? Hurry it up then.ö
ôI request a story from you Mayuri-sama. I was told at a recent WomanÆs Association Meeting that such things were commonly given from father to daughter during night.ö
ôIt is a wonder that such a stupid thought could be uttered from your mouth you insolent girl. Why I have half a mind to not let you sleep but beat you to unconsciousness right now,ö hissed Mayuri.
ôàHowever,ö he mused feeling his mercurial mood brighten. ôI am willing to do this for you tonight.ö
Mayuri wondered if he was going mad. To think that he would lower himself to giving a story to thisà well, it had been a good day. Wonderful results from a few pet projects and a budget increase from the Chamber had given him high spirits.
ôOnce upon a time there was a man. He lived. He died. The end,ö Mayuri said quickly before turning to leave once more.
ôI was told that is an inappropriate story form. Might I request another Mayuri-sama?ö Nemu asked.
ôOh? Any particular themes you wish? A dashing tale of romance and heroism perhaps? A story of true love conquering all? One adulterated by time so that all mentions of truth are gone only to be replaced with fanciful tales to soothe egos?ö Mayuri asked sarcastically.
ôYes.ö
Mayuri found his face flushing with embarrassment that his progeny had failed to grasp the concept of sarcasm. He bit back the instinctive response to swipe his hand across her cheek to consider her request. And surprisingly enough he did have one for her. He took a few moments to compose his thoughts.
ôOnceà,ö Kurotsuchi Mayuri began.
Once there was a man.
A nameless man barely into adulthood surrounded by a field of the dead lay bleeding into the mud.
Every fiber of his being screaming in protest, the man hissed in pain as his blood soaked hands shifted position for the nth time trying to keep in his intestines. A bloody spear had been ripped out in his panic and the man swore at himself for pulling it out when the weapon could have kept him alive a bit longer. Sweat dripped down the manÆs forehead unceasingly as he blinked again and again to keep moisture out of his eyes.
ôHey,ö the man tried to whisper inwardly grimacing as all that came out was a choked moan.
ôHey,ö the man tried again this time with more success. ôHey Hoshi, you alright there?ö he said to the man lying face up besides him.
No response came from the dead man as cloudy eyes gazed up into the sky.
ôHa you bastard, I canÆt believe you beat me to death,ö the man said conversationally as he tried to keep his mind off his stomach wound. Then realizing what he said, he burst into wet laughter at a joke that he would never had considered funny had he been anywhere else.
He glanced to the side and grimaced as he spied the open eyes of his former friend. Gingerly, the man took off one of his hands to try and shut the dead manÆs eyes.
He apologized to the manÆs spirit as his hand left bloody smears across the friendÆs face, leaving the man painted red but with thankfully closed eyes. The bloody hand took its place at the stomach once more.
ôI donÆt want to die,ö sobbed the nameless man.
ôI donÆt want to die here. I justà I didnÆt even ask to fight. I was happy farming you know? Iàö
The dead man besides him did not talk back.
ôOh shut up, it was your fault we got here anyway. I liked farming but that was never enough for you was it hero? You just had to run off to join the army and I had to follow to make sure you were alright.ö
Mentally picturing the dead manÆs responses, he continued.
ôAnd now here we are bleeding into the dirt with a hundred others while those fucking nobles just go on to get some more of us to shove into their enemies. IsnÆt that fantastic?ö came a bitter voice.
ôYou know I never told you this, but I met this Christian once. Yeah yeah, I should have reported that loony but you know, he said something nice about death. That after we die, weÆll go to this nice place where nothing can bother us. None of that karma shit, doesnÆt that sound nice? I thought so too,ö the man said feverishly.
ôI donÆt want to die though. I donÆt want to die,ö he repeated as though it was a mantra that could save him.
ôI donÆt even know how to read. I never even got a wife yet unlike some of those lucky bastards back home. IÆm just poor old me. Never had anything valuable and going to die alone here in this fucking field.ö
Feeling himself grow weaker and weaker, the man stopped talking trying to hold in every last bit of life he had left.
But the minutes ticked away and the blood pool around him just grew bigger and bigger.
æMaybe that Christian was right. Maybe I will go someplace nice,Æ he hoped.
The man breathed.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
He stopped.
Surrounded by an army of blades and bodies, the nameless man died.
And then he woke up.
A lost man who had no direction in life.
When he woke up, the man found himself in a field of grass as green and pure as heÆd ever seen. And he laughed and laughed thinking himself in heaven. He was hungry as hell but goddamn it if he wasnÆt happy.
Then the blade came down.
Only a quick sideways roll saved him as the man pushed himself up the ground desperately, not caring if the grass and dirt stained his new white clothes.
ôShit, I missed,ö said a man as he tugged on his sword before he wrenched it from the ground.
ôThatÆs because you suck boss,ö came a sarcastic response from one of several men surrounding him.
ôAh shaddup ya idiot,ö the man snapped before looking at the figure pulling himself off the ground.
ôWhatÆs your name?ö
Desperate and confused, the man came up with the first thing he knew ôYamada Taro.ö
As one, the entire group burst into laughter and the newly christened Taro followed along hoping to escape pain. His hunger grew by the second though and he started to rub his stomach trying to calm it down.
ôWell isnÆt that a coincidence. æCause we got a Yamada Taro right there,ö the man pointed to a lanky man with a cruel smirk, æand there,Æ this time gesturing to a more heavyset man with a deep scar that split his face into near halves.
ôAnd IÆm Shinjiro Kida, the boss of the Zaraki Tigers. ArenÆt you glad to meet someone so famous?ö
ôUm, who?ö Taro asked before cringing at the outburst.
ôYa deaf or something? IÆm the boss ofà wait a minute. Those clothesà they look new. You just die or something?ö
ôYes,ö Taro said hoping the truth would keep him out of trouble.
All the while though, his stomach roared at him to eat.
ôHoho, a new guy huh? I guess I should make the grand introduction then. LetÆs start. YOU just died and came HERE to the outskirts of District 80 of Southern Rukongai. You can call it Zaraki. Zaraki here is where the strongest makes the rules and since I have a sword, I am stronger than you. Got that?ö Kida asked.
Taro nodded not trusting himself to speak.
With a satisfied grunt Kida continued.
ôNow we just got here into what looks like what we call a conundrum. Cause you just came, you donÆt got anything worth stealing and I sure as hell donÆt need another sword around here. My boys are good enough already. We got a very elite group and donÆt need someone like you. So the question for me right now is, do I kill you fast or do I kill you slow?ö
At that the entire gang burst into laughter yet again seeing the horrified look on TaroÆs face.
Flushing in horror, Taro cringed as his stomach finally roared its displeasure to everyone around him.
The laughter stopped instantly.
ôYou hungry?ö Shinjiro asked as he focused all his attention on Taro.
ôUm, yes?ö Taro answered questioningly. The man hadnÆt eaten in over a day even before his death.
Shinjiro actually took back a step at that suddenly looking unsure of himself.
ôBoss, heà he just said heÆs hungry. Is heà is he like you?ö asked one of KidaÆs flunkies uncertainly.
ôShut it, IÆm thinking,ö Kida snapped over his shoulder before looking back at Taro.
ôGuess IÆll kill you fast then,ö Kida said before coming to attack Taro with his sword raised high.
Taro backstepped before tripping over himself and held his arms high to block while shutting his eyes hoping he could somehow save himself.
The blade impacted against TaroÆs outstretched arms before it stopped. Taro hesitantly opened his eyes again and watched as Shinjiro KidaÆs arms fell off at the elbow. The exact place where the blade had impacted against TaroÆs body.
Screaming in pain Kida fell to the ground as his blood stained the verdant grass crimson while his entire gang cried out.
ôHe just killed the boss!ö
ôNo he didnÆt, he just chopped off his arms is all!ö
ôWh-what do we do?ö
ôThereÆs only one of him, letÆs go kill him,ö said one as he ripped out his rusty sword followed shortly by all his comrades.
As one they all struck TaroÆs body and as one, they all fell screaming as the backlash of their own attacks killed them all. It was there that Yamada Taro learned that even the dead could die and die quickly and in agony.
Surrounded by blood, Yamada Taro slowly picked himself off the ground again. He looked at the men who had bled out before vomiting up stomach acid at the sight of the damned. His apparent nonactions had made him even hungrier though and he ignored his repulsions and rummaged through the dead menÆs corpses praying again for their souls as he looked for food.
No such luck was found. Instead, all he found was rusted steel. Too hungry to care, Taro limped to a still green patch of grass to tear them out at their roots and shoved the green strips in his mouth. His molars grinded them to powder and his throat forced down the bitter grass before he repeated himself over and over until he lost track.
At this point the hunger he felt was beyond compare and he looked this time at the bodies of the dead. He turned back and munched on grass again and again hoping he wouldnÆt have to resort to that.
But again, no such luck.
He turned again to face the dead. Praying toà anything, Taro forced himself alongside a body. He looked away as a hand tried to find a knife. As he succeeded and gripped it properly, Taro turned the knife down and cut.
And he cut.
And he cut.
When he had a pile ofà nutrients in front of him, Taro looked away even further. Not caring how ridiculous he must have looked, he grabbed a strip of me- protein from behind him and ate. He didnÆt even bother to chew not trusting himself and just swallowed. His stomach began to calm down then and Taro just continued mechanically knowing he was justified but hating himself all the while. After his hand could feel no more nutrients he looked to the now dark sky before screaming in agony at his actions.
The now slick hand rubbed itself against the grass hoping to clean away the stain while Taro held back in his vomit knowing that if his didnÆt hold back, he would have to repeat the process over again. Tasting the sour phlegm, he swallowed before getting up and running.
A part of his soul died that day as he continued to run.
Yamada Taro found a river hours later. Not caring where it came from or where it led, he jumped in.
The current swallowed him whole and carried him along for a while.
The entire time, Yamada Taro tried to dunk his head in and dive all the way to the bottom only for a bump in the river to lift him up and force in air between his nostrils before Taro tried again.
Blinded by the spray all around him, Taro eventually gave up trying to drown and hoped that the river would carry him to a lake where he could die in peace. He did not succeed. A wooden pole knocked him on the head and Taro instinctively grabbed hold of the hardened wood and felt himself dragged ashore before he could let go. Coughing up water all the while, an enraged Taro blinked furiously trying to see clear at his misinformed savior to vent his rage before jumping back in.
All thoughts of protest and self-loathing died the moment he looked up into the face of the most beautiful woman heÆd even seen.
But then he found love.
---
A story of one of my favorite assholes and his growth from an awkward frightened man to a scary as hell Jerkass.
Starting from his death to the creation Nemu.
I really should be working on all my other stories but I really just don't give a damn at this point.