Ꮶ Ꭺ Ꮓ Ꮜ Ꮇ Ꭺ 、 カズマ

He doesn’t even flinch. This is like the sixth or seventh time he’s needed limb reattachment anyway.

“Show me. Does it kill anything?”

He doesn’t flinch or wince or pay any real mind to the re-attachment of his hand. It’s not the first time it’s been lopped off.

“Any new projects?”

He quietly sits up, arm extended with the severed end of his wrist pointing towards the stumpy end of his arm. “They’re fun to play with. They think they’re so important… and I prove them wrong.”

He shakes his head. “Nah. ‘Sides more rejects to dispose of.”

He hesitates for a moment. “I mean… my hand ain’t on right…”

Pulls @luppiantenor.bsky.social into his arms and brushes their hair idly.

I’m so booooooored I wanna 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘭𝘭𝘭𝘭 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙞𝙞𝙞𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙣𝙣𝙜𝙜𝙜𝙜𝙜…….

Staring at him upside-down from atop one of his lab tables. “Why you mavin’ that face?”

He winces at the needles shoved into the end of his stumpy former hand. “If you think we feel things when they’re dismembered, we don’t.” So. 𝙊𝙬.

He frowns, shrugging one shoulder. “Ain’t a Hollow. It’s probably that.”

He sighs and nuzzles back, eyes fluttering closed as he practically curls into the Pantera’s lap. He’s spent all day in his tests with Aizen…

And all he knows is that 𝙋𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖 will keep him safe.

Biting his shoulder back. “Pantera…”

He huffs. “No…” Which isn’t exactly true but the few liquors the Arrancar have are different for the Shinigami here.

Without a second’s hesitation he swings the blade down on his hand—

—and the limb is hacked off with a sickening 𝙏𝙃𝙒𝙊𝙋!

He nods… then stops. “You’ll put it back on, yeah?”

“Mm.” His universal answer for things he doesn’t quite understand. “Well… stay.”

He tilts his head to the side. She won’t love the stronger one—the one more likely to live—more…?

“… Why?”

“Equality doesn’t exist. There is always someone or something stronger.”

He nods once. He doesn’t despair her for her choice. In his eyes, she made the correct choice. She proved her worth to live by winning.

“Mm. Will these two fight then?”

Oh. He blinks once. “I wanted to spare them. My sisters. They would not have survived their first Hollow. Better my blade than a mindless killer. But everyone calls me the mindless killer for doing it.”

He nods quietly. “I had little sisters. But I killed them.”

He shrugs. “What are they?”

He shrugs. His view of the world and how it turns is very different.

“Give that hatchling a chance. Stay here.”

“Suffering builds strength. Strength is the only thing worth measuring in life. Separates the living from the dead.”

He nods to the thing she has tucked in safe, kept warm. “Can’t prove your strength if you don’t live long enough to try.”

“Not even my home.” He shrugs. “They use that thing like shackles. They weaken me, then give me comfort for the suffering they caused. I’d rather suffer.”

He has no reason to kill either. But he prefers it. But needless suffering doesn’t allow for one to grow into the strong creature they need to be to thrive.

“Mm.” He nods, sitting back against the wall to give her space.

He pulls back the shoji to reveal the heated table with the thick coverlet over the edges. The poisons that control him are worse in the winter months, so this helps.

“Use it. I don’t need to.”

Making a trilling noise to get her attention. He has a kotatsu in his squad room. He jerks his head for her to follow.

Without hesitation he draws his blade and rests his hand on the white surface of his lab table. “Mm? Well that’s no fun. Wrist bone?”