A consciousness submerged and held captive in a world not it’s own, that was what Nibui was at this moment. Beneath a sea of bone and crimson ichor, when he attempted an escape, the surroundings fought him. Where his hands and feet found purchase, allowing him to come closer to escape, he was simply dragged back by the same roots that had ensnared him outside of this world. In the Seireitei, a consciousness that did not belong had buried it’s roots deeply, taking over the body of the Shinigami, for the most part.
In the spirit world of
Jubokko, Nibui remained imprisoned, his vision over taken by the dark, lightless pits of the world until it wasn’t. A piercing orange light breeched the horrid
canopy above Nibui, or was it light? That was his first assumption, a simple light, but no, as this supposed light began to blitz and tear through the consuming ocean of bone, it was aggressive and forceful, but yet he felt no ill intent behind this. Soon it was the only thing he could see, the only thing he could feel, an odd warmth. And then it all faded to black, but not the same he had been captured by before, in fact, he couldn’t feel or see a thing. There was no more struggle, it was all put to an abrupt end without his knowledge of how or why. His only hope was that his call for help had been successful.
A room once still, the only movements were that of a deep breathing of a body unmoving and the blood that spilled from that same body. Now that same room had sprung to ill-gotten life, the roots of
Jubokko mercilessly and without thought, launching themselves at the first foreign sign of life, the first feast in far too long. Yet, to no avail. In the face of overwhelming and daunting pressure as well as the rapidly encroaching threat of the roots, the seemingly ditzy Captain proved to be more than resourceful, throwing this clumsy portion of themselves to the side in the most crucial of moments. Had Nibui been personally present to take in the events, he would have been just as lost regardless, his knowledge of the Demon Arts was atrocious, there was no hope of him knowing the existence of the Captain’s own developments in the field. As this personal barrier was erected, sectioning off the Captain and the threats more than effectively, there was more space for Captain Yu to work with. A greater margin of error if needed.
The Captain’s next step would have been just as foreign to Nibui, another Kido of which he lacked any critical knowledge of and would likely never come to learn outside of encountering it himself in future times. From the hands of a master, cast and expelled from the palm Captain Yu an onslaught of Orange lightning carved effortlessly and brutally through each and every root that had found itself in the lightning’s path, splinters being flung through out the surroundings only to scatter to dust and then to nothing. Despite the aggressive and almost random advance of the lightning, to an extent, it was rather elegant. Deliberate and precise in its purpose with little if nothing at all wasted in its entirety. The sign of a master in their trade. In mere moments, Jubokko was pried from Nibui, with little cost to the Captain, despite the pressure he had been put under, physically and mentally. An impressive and awe inspiring display, had Nibui been capable of witnessing it.
The roots which were severed and those that were shattered would fall to the ground, and whither away to non-existence much like the splinters that flew from them during the initial collisions. The roots that once held Nibui captive too fell to this fate, these including the ones that sprouted from the Zanpakuto itself and the ones that sprouted from the bark along his body.
The momentary surge of motion and bloodlust had faded just as quickly as it had emerged. Each and every one of the tendrils now falling lifeless only to disintegrate shortly thereafter. The pressure that was unwillingly exerted by the struggling Shinigami passing with the presence of
Jubokko and the consciousness of Nibui. Pulled not only from the grasp but also away from his own Zanpakuto, Nibui had been given his freedom once more.
It wasn’t long before the consciousness of the Lieutenant was brought back to him and the bleeding had been staunched all due to the diligence of the Captain who had arrived on the scene. With the assistance and care of Yu, the heavily lashed eyelids of the Lieutenant lazily opened up, his vision rather blurry in the moment and recovering with every blink. For a while he would gaze blankly toward the ceiling of the cavern, his mind lackadaisically passing through different thoughts and trying to process what exactly had happened. He knew what had lead to the point he was at now, but nothing of what happened between his points of control. It was unlikely that he would find the answer to those questions as well. Eventually, his colourless eyes found the one responsible for his current wellbeing. He seemed well, unharmed by either Nibui or the spirit which had taken control, that fact alone left Nibui with a great sense of relief unlike any other.
”Thank you for your help and I’m sorry for causing you all this trouble.” despite a delay between noticing the Captain and this point, he had spoken finally. His words were just as honest as ever, nothing would change that. His tone was soft and quiet but in a space that had now become rather empty with the scattering of the roots, it was clearly audible.
His head tilted over to gaze at his Zanpakuto. The blade once being composed of wood, had now reverted to it’s sealed state, the oversized weapon lifelessly resting among rubble and blood alike. With slow and laboured movements, the Lieutenant dragged himself to a seated position, his eyes once again shifting their focus to his own body, where there was recently bark deeply embedded into flesh, there was nothing but scarring now, the bleeding having been halted by the hands of his saviour. What remained of his less than successful attempts would serve as a reminder and motivator. Bringing himself to his feet, he made his away to his Zanpakuto. His right hand clasping tightly around the handle of the weapon before loosening up his grasp just enough so that it remained in his hand but wasn’t limited to stiffened movements. Now turning to the Captain once more, he would speak once more.
”I’m sorry to bother you some more, but, would it be possible for you to take care of me a little while longer? I don’t think I’ll be of much use to anyone in this state.” As he spoke, for the first time in a long time there was a hint of a smile that crept along his lips, his tired eyes reflecting this expression as well.
