Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Zanpaku-to? ❯ Destination ( Chapter 10 )

Tite Kubo owns Bleach. I just borrowed the characters.

 

The question of whether Zaraki can trust is not an easy one to answer.

 

 

Destination

 

Atonomatsuri opened her beak.

 

“Don't say it,” Zaraki said looking at the sky.

 

She ignored his comment. “The Winds of Change have returned,” she said plainly.

 

“I noticed, but thanks for stating the bleeding obvious. I'll just sit here and think of nothing. That means they won't get any worse. You can't force me to trust you. Haven't you got some pithy adage about trust?” Zaraki jeered.

 

“A fool may be known by six things: anger, without cause; speech, without profit; change, without progress; injury, without objective; putting trust in a stranger; and mistaking foes for friends.” I think that sums you up nicely, Kenny. Pity there isn't something there about refusing to use your mind. I think I'll add a seventh, just for you. What should it be? Brain, without thought? Mind without sense? Mind rotting for no purpose? No fear, no brain? Damn, I thought it would be easier than this, but there are so many possibilities. What do you think, Kenny? Oh, sorry, wrong question. I used the word think,” Atonomatsuri moved further away from Zaraki as she spoke.

 

It was evident that she was using her words to rouse him to action, perhaps to anger. To make him think, to pursue and attack, and perhaps increase the force of the Winds of Change.

 

“You're not describing me with that spate of words. I don't put my trust in a stranger, otherwise I would trust you.” Zaraki, replaced his eye patch, lay down and closed his eyes. “You won't fight me; you won't talk to me without riddles, you won't answer my questions and you keep trying to make me angry. If you're going to bore me, I may as well sleep.”

 

“Can't you sleep with the eye patch off, Zaraki,” Atonomatsuri asked, plaintively.

 

“Don't want to. You've recovered enough. You keep telling me you're tired, especially when I'm asking questions. I'm tired too. Bloody tired of this place, your face, your words and I'm friggin' tired of the Winds of sodding Change. They're unimportant. I don't want to trust you, I don't need to trust you, and I will not trust you. I won't be forced to an action that I can't accept.”

 

Silence. The breeze blew. Zaraki lay there, not thinking, not feeling, existing. Every time a random idea crossed his mind, he suppressed it. Finally, he slept.

 

When he woke the world had not changed. Atonomatsuri had not relented and released him from the cursed place. He looked into the sky as he lay there. Had the sky brightened? Did one star seem whole? It was his imagination. He sat up, unknowingly leaving a bell from his hair where he had lain. He was awake now; there was little point in lying there.

 

The breeze still blew; broken debris still littered the surface. He hated looking at the landscape. Something caught his eye. Rising to his feet he moved to the object that caught his attention. It was the book he had found earlier, or was it? That copy had been torn in half. This copy of The Art of War by Sun Tzu while obviously well read, was whole.

 

He quickly leafed through the book, finding well remembered passages. He remembered his excitement when he had first read the book, the careful strategies that had fired his imagination. This book had been his inspiration, in the days when he still felt excitement and inspiration for anything other than fighting.

 

“I'm sure this book was torn in half, but wait, that was before I chased Atonomatsuri. It must be a different book,” he assured himself and then looked down. The broken clock he had lain on was there. It was still broken. There was an unbroken sake bottle. Zaraki picked that up quickly hoping that it contained some sake. No liquid moved within. He cast the bottle away from him in disgust. It bounced, but did not break.

 

He scratched his head. What was going on? Winds blowing, broken objects repairing themselves and following him. Why was this his mind? Did he deserve a mind like this? What had caused this destruction? He'd wanted to know before, but didn't want to ask. Atonomatsuri would probably explain it with the continual use of adages or even similes and homilies. She would also choose the most insulting method to explain. But who else could he ask while he was here? Maybe he should ask the bird. He was not sure he wanted to hear the answer, even if it was the truth but it was better than thinking about it.

 

The wind increased in strength and cold.

 

“Damn, friggin' wind. It's fine if I don't freaking think. But if I don't think of a way to escape, I'll die and be stuck here. Or do I mean die, or be stuck here? Atonomatsuri, get your tail over here,” Zaraki yelled.

 

The vulture appeared to his right, looking sleepy. He walked toward her, his stride purposeful. At his approach Atonomatsuri spread her wings as if preparing to fight or fly. She thrust out her beak and hissed.

 

“What's your problem?” Zaraki asked.

 

“That should be obvious. When folly passes by reason draws back, Kenny. You are my problem,” Atonomatsuri said.

 

Before she could commence her normal diatribe, Zaraki cut in.

 

“Shut it. Not interested,” he paused not sure which question to ask first. He decided on the one most important to him.

 

“Do I have to trust you to release you? Does there have to be trust on both sides? I want to get out of here, but there are limits to what I will do.”

 

She looked at him, her head tilted to one side and blinked slowly as if considering his question.

 

“The truth is not always what we want to hear. I will not let you leave this place until you learn to release me. You cannot release me unless we trust each other. One is inextricably linked to the other, Kenny. You want to get out of here, you have to trust me. It is as unpalatable to me as it is to you. Do you think I want to trust a psychopath? Do you think I want to trust a person who has a mind like this? A little neglect may breed a great mischief, though I fear the neglect of your mind may not be called little,” Atonomatsuri said sardonically.

 

Zaraki was struck by what she said. It encouraged him to ask the question he was reluctant to utter.

 

“Why is my mind like this?”

 

Atonomatsuri started to laugh. The sound was unexpected as there was no humour. Only derision and pain flavoured the laughter. She flapped her wings, shut her eyes and continued to laugh. Zaraki could not make himself heard over the noise of the laughter and the increasing wind.

 

Finally the vulture regained control. “You finally asked! How many will listen to truth when you tell it? Are you sure you want to know, Kenny? I know you are curious, but do you really want to know?” She watched him closely as she waited for his answer.

 

Zaraki hesitated. He looked at the sky, the broken planets, the debris on the ground and then he looked at the book in his hand. It was time to understand. If he was going to stay in his mind until he died, because he was not prepared to trust Atonomatsuri, at least he could find out why his mind was this way, and if there was any way to repair the damage. That was only because he was stuck here. Maybe if he repaired his mind he might think of a plan to escape.

 

Not that he would care if he could escape. He was happy not to think. If he knew he could get out of here, his mind could continue rotting. He'd help the process by consuming large amounts of sake. His mind had only ever brought him trouble. It was thinking that had got him into this situation in the first place. If that was what thought could do, he was better off fighting, not thinking.

 

“I want to know,” Zaraki said reluctantly, preparing for the onslaught of words, accusations, sarcastic remarks and adages that he was sure would spew forth from Atonomatsuri's beak.

 

“You made it like this,” Atonomatsuri said.

 

Zaraki waited for her to continue. Atonomatsuri continued to look at him, her disconcerting gaze made him feel uncomfortable. The wind increased.

 

“Is that it? Is that all you're going to say?” Zaraki demanded.

 

“What more can I say? You created your mind. This world of destruction and despair is your work. Know thyself, Kenny. This is you,” she said sniggering.

 

“Why is it like this?” He frowned at her levity.

 

“I've hinted enough. The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts. You refuse to think. Your only thoughts are of death, fighting and destruction. Your mind adapted to your thoughts and created this pleasant little world. Everything is broken because without thought nothing can remain whole. It's easy not to think because then you don't have to care or question your actions. Truth and oil always come to the surface. This is the truth about your mind. You created it; you neglected it, now you are living in it. I love the irony of the situation. Causing me torment for so many years and now your own mind can torment you until you die. The Winds of Change have increased again, Kenny. Trust or die.”

 

“Last time you were less relaxed about the situation. Why are you so calm now?” Zaraki asked ignoring all the other questions clamouring to be answered.

 

“Why worry about that which I cannot change? If I die now, no more pain. Death is the next great adventure. I had hoped to be released; to meet Zangetsu again, and to learn to fight as a partner, not a tool. If that is not to be, then why mourn? I still hate you, Kenny, but you are my Shinigami and I cannot survive without you. I can tolerate you, barely and I am prepared to try to work with you. If you cannot trust then you will not live and we will both die. I wonder who will mourn your passing,” Atonomatsuri's composure was a distinct contrast to her earlier fears.

 

The wind blew, two bells dropped from Zaraki's hair. The small peals they made as they fell were noted by Atonomatsuri but unheard by Zaraki who was trying to deal with all the information.

 

“She's not scared. Is she lying? Do I want to die here? I don't have much time, the wind is getting colder. Is there any other thing I can do aside from trust her that will make the wind stop? Yachiru would be sad if I died. Would she become Captain? Would anyone else care? Why am I even thinking about that emotional crap? I don't care if I die. I don't care if anyone dies. The only thing I care about is if I'm dead I can't fight anymore. I don't want to die here. I'd always imagined I would die fighting a worthy opponent. Not in the hell of my own mind,” these thoughts did not provide any reassurance.

 

“Forget about the wind for the moment. I need to ask 2 more things before I can make any decisions. Not that they are important, but nothing she said explains them,” he considered not asking, but she seemed to be in a more cooperative mood than normal.

 

“Answer this for me. Why is this book whole?” Zaraki indicated the book he was still holding.

 

“Which book is that? The Art of War? Yes, it would be that. The funny thing, Zaraki is that this place was much worse before you considered trying to summon me. You think it's bad now, you should have seen it before you started thinking. The beginnings of all things are small,” a smug satisfaction oozed from her words.

 

“Not an answer. Explain,” Zaraki ordered irritation evident in his voice.

 

“No need to take that tone, Kenny. He who smiles rather than rages is always the stronger. When you began to think your mind began to repair some of the damage. When you changed, a little, one or two important ideas were repaired. It may look like a book, but it is really represents your thoughts, memories and ideals that were created as a result of that book. Before you ask, I don't know what each thing represents, but you should. Not much time left, Kenny. I suppose we should say our farewells. It's been horrid to know you,” Atonomatsuri sat and composed herself.

 

“One more question. Why did the book follow me? It was over there,” Zaraki gestured vaguely behind him. “It should have been left behind. Why is it here?”

 

Atonomatsuri quivered all over. “

 

“Is she going to have a fit?” Zaraki wondered.

 

Peals of laughter emerged from the beak of the vulture. Zaraki's hand immediately went to his zanpaku-to. He was tired of her mockery. Maybe he should kill her now. If he died too at least it would be a quick death.

 

“Wait, Kenny,” Atonomatsuri gurgled, trying to recover. She took a deep breath and her laughter subsided. “Don't forget, you can't kill me with you zanpaku-to,” she sighed. “Okay, why did the book follow you? I know you won't like the answer, but in the spirit of trust I will tell you. A small-minded man looks at the sky through a reed. This place looks large because the power of the mind can be infinite. But it is really very small,” she started to laugh again. “I told you before you have a small mind.”

 

Zaraki scowled. His hands instinctively reached for her neck. Still laughing she knocked them aside with her beak cutting the palm of one with the sharp edge. Zaraki ignored the cut and realized that her last answer didn't explain everything.

 

“Then why did I end up chasing you all over the place? Why did it take so long to catch up to you? If my mind is so small I should have been able to get here much quicker,” Zaraki said.

 

“Never underestimate the power of the mind. It looped back on itself. Your mind doesn't really trust you either, Zaraki. It tricked you so that I was always appeared a certain distance from you until I could fly no further and you were exhausted. It wanted to give me time to talk to you. If you were too tired to fight you might listen. It knows that I'm its potential saviour. If I can encourage you to think, your mind will be repaired and it can expand from this small space. It has been trapped like me.”

 

Zaraki shook his head rejecting her words. The force of the shake released another bell which flew next to Atonomatsuri. She noted the fall with satisfaction. The Winds of Change were icy and strong.

 

“How can my mind not trust me? That doesn't make sense. You're talking about it like it's not part of me. More riddles, more unanswered questions. My mind trusts you and not me? So does that mean I trust you?” Zaraki looked at the sky seeking a solution to the confusion that beset him.

 

“Yes and no. You have to trust me consciously in order to release me. A fool can no more see his own folly than he can see his ears. Your mind is part of you and you are your mind. But your subconscious is hidden from you as it is from all people. Your subconscious mind does not trust you because you've paid no attention to it for years. It had no outlet for all the normal doubts and frustrations which normal people experience and learn to tolerate. You don't trust your mind either, otherwise you would use it. To deny all, is to confess all,” Atonomatsuri shivered.

 

“Why can't anything be simple? Do you try to make everything more complicated? When you open your beak do you think “How can I make this impossible to understand?” Truth, trust, minds, thoughts, subconscious. Hell. Next you'll talk about love and God. How can I trust you? How can I trust anyone? Trust leads to a blade in your back,” Zaraki said with disgust.

 

“Trust and love are doubled edged swords, Zaraki,” Atonomatsuri said impatiently. “You don't have to love me to trust me.”

 

“I was right. Now you're talking about love,” Zaraki howled.

 

“You can't deny love. What about the teddy bear?” Atonomatsuri said obscurely.

 

“I don't want to talk about bears. I want to talk about getting out of here before the bloody wind freezes me. We were talking about trust before you went off on the tangent about the subconscious mind. This conversation is boring me. What about I say I trust you. Will that work?” Zaraki compromised.

 

“A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall not escape,” was Atonomatsuri's response.

 

“I actually have to trust you? Hell. How do you learn trust?”

 

“It's an instinct, not a learned behaviour, Kenny. Maybe we can go about it a different way,” she paused. Do you trust your zanpaku-to?”

 

“Yeah, sort of.”

 

“I am your zanpaku-to.”

 

“So you say. I think you're a freak,” Zaraki said ungratefully.

 

“Logic, Kenny, not insults. The wind is increasing, it you hadn't noticed. We don't have much time. Speed is of the essence,” Atonomatsuri reminded him.

 

“My head hurts and you want me to think logically. Okay, if I trust my zanpaku-to even a little and you are my zanpaku-to, then by extension I must trust you?” Zaraki thought aloud.

 

The winds ceased abruptly. The silence that replaced it seemed hollow and unsatisfying to Zaraki. He glared at the vulture that was looking at him with a sneer on her beak.

 

“So I trusted you all the time. Why didn't you explain it like that earlier? What was all that crap about minds and the rest of that stuff? What was with the winds?” Zaraki yelled.

 

“It was fun. I was bored. It wanted to be entertained. I loved watching you flail about trying to think of a solution. What costs little is little valued. The Winds of Change happened because you wouldn't acknowledge your trust. If I just told you, would you have believed me? “

 

“I don't know. Don't care. At least the wind has stopped. Why didn't the winds stop earlier? It's stupid because all the time I trusted you because, oh damn. You're a twisted creature,” Zaraki stated.

 

“I'm twisted? Okay, maybe I did it partly to pay you back for…”

 

“For all the torture, etc. Heard it before, bird,” Zaraki cut in. “I see now why you didn't appear worried when the Winds of Change got really cold.” He looked at her curiously. “Now what?”

 

“Now you learn to release me,” Atonomatsuri said with a tinge of fear and reluctance in her voice.

 

“Does that mean I can fight you?” Zaraki said, a feral smile spreading over his features.

 

“No. You learn to release me. It's all very well to fight, but release is different. It depends on a number of things. You must either modify your dreams or magnify your skills. You need to keep your eye patch on for this, Zaraki. No, on second thoughts, take it off,” there was an air of suppressed mirth in Atonomatsuri's suggestion.

 

Zaraki's hands went to his eye patch. A faint memory of something he had overheard in Seireitei made him stop. “Nah, I'm going to keep it on. Might be more interesting. So what do I do?”

 

Atonomatsuri looked disappointed for a moment. “Okay, it that's what you really want, Kenny. A man should live if only to satisfy his curiosity,” she hesitated before continuing. “You need to draw your zanpaku-to.”

 

Zaraki withdrew his zanpaku-to from its” sheathe and held it with one hand.

 

“It might be better if you held it with both hands, Kenny,” Atonomatsuri suggested. “Hold it so the blade is upright.”

 

Zaraki followed her instructions again, turning the scarred blade toward Atonomatsuri.

 

She gulped, whether from nerves or impending laughter, Zaraki was not sure.

 

“Now stand on one foot,” she commanded.

 

Zaraki began to raise his foot and stopped. “You're pushing it, freak. I don't need to raise my foot.”

 

“I was just trying to establish an element of trust,” Atonomatsuri sniggered. “A house is built a brick at a time.”

 

“I don't know why you are delaying. You're the one who wants this, or so you said. What's the problem?” Zaraki demanded.

 

“No problem, just anticipation. Now shout my name,” the fear and reluctance returned to her voice.

 

“That's it? I just have to say your name? Why all the mystery?”

 

“I was trying to convey a sense of occasion to this. Go on, do it. Shout my name,” Atonomatsuri urged.

 

“Atonomatsuri,” Zaraki shouted.

 

Nothing happened. Zaraki looked at his zanpaku-to. Atonomatsuri looked at Zaraki.

 

“Atonomatsuri,” Zaraki shouted again.

 

The same result. Nothing happened. Zaraki looked at Atonomatsuri. She was looking worried.

 

“Why isn't it working?” she wondered aloud.

 

“So which is broken: you or the zanpaku-to?” Zaraki said sarcastically.

 

“A poor workman always blames his tools,” Atonomatsuri answered absent mindedly. “What were you thinking about when you said my name?”

 

Zaraki looked at her, his eyebrows raised sardonically.

 

“Kenny, don't say you weren't thinking? Hasn't anything I told you penetrated your wreck of a mind? You have to think to release me,” she rubbed her wings over her eyes. “Talk does not cook rice,” she muttered to herself.

 

“Let's try again. Now say my name while thinking about releasing me,” she yawned.

 

“What, now you yawn, Atonomatsuri,” Zaraki began to say but was forced to stop by the force of the winds that surrounded him.

 

He was in the eye of the storm as the gale blew from his transforming zanpaku-to, scattering the debris on the ground even further. Atonomatsuri shielded her body with her wings too late to escape the full force of the blast. She staggered back trying to seek shelter. The bells which had already fallen from Zaraki's hair pealed in the wind. Zaraki fought to keep the zanpaku-to within his grasp as it seemed to be twisting and changing, fighting him. The wind blew past him with redoubled force removing the last two bells from his hair and causing his hair to stream down his back. He continued to struggle to maintain his hold when the wind abruptly ceased.

 

His hands felt heavy and he could not keep his zanpaku-to upright. The point fell downwards to lodge in the ground below. Zaraki looked aghast at the released zanpaku-to. To say it was ugly was not enough. It was a hideously grotesque blade which distinctly reflected Zaraki's inability to control his reiatsu. The blade was longer than his body.

 

He looked closer. “What sort of freaking” zanpaku-to is this?” he thought. The edge was incredibly jagged displaying no symmetry of any sort. There were holes in the middle of the blade, again showing no symmetry. The guard was, hell, there was no disguising it was pink, inlaid with ivory skulls. Feathers and clocks decorated the handle. Zaraki shook his head.

 

“This is wrong. Kenpachi Zaraki can't be seen with a zanpaku-to like this! Why in death's name is the guard pink? Why is the blade so jagged? Why is it so heavy and big? Why is it so damned ugly? What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

 

“It would have been worse if you'd taken off the eye patch Kenny,” Atonomatsuri said as she emerged from her temporary shelter, sniggering. “You've been told the reiatsu affects the size of the blade. You can't control your reiatsu; hence the blade is too large. I like the pink. Beauty is only skin-deep, Kenny.”

 

“But ugliness goes all the way to the bone,” Zaraki said carelessly thinking about the shame of his zanpaku-to's guard being pink. “Blood! Now I'm doing it again. More adages. Okay, I've released you. Now how do I make it change back? Can I get out of here, now? Is this whole thing finished?”

 

“It's not that simple, Kenny,” Atonomatsuri answered.

 

“How the heck did I know you were going to say that?” Zaraki said sarcastically. “Maybe I've become psychic. Okay, I'm obviously not going anywhere. Spill.”

 

Atonomatsuri looked at him. “In prosperity caution --- in adversity patience. You will need patience for this, Kenny, something you do not normally employ.”

 

“I think there's an escape and then everything gets complicated again. Are you sure you're not just doing this to annoy the crap out of me?” Zaraki asked, his patience already strained. “How long will the lecture be this time? Should I take notes? Will there be a quiz at the end? Or will the friggin' Winds of Change start again? I'm tired of this.”

 

Atonomatsuri looked at him mournfully. “I haven't told you the whole truth,” she said reluctantly.

 

Zaraki sighed. Why wasn't he surprised?

 

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------Author's Note:

 

I know there are complex ideas in this chapter. Blame Jung and Freud and other psychologists.

 

Thanks to yuwa for reviewing this story.

 

Here are a few answers to questions you might have:

 

Why can't Zaraki use the `too late” power against the bird? The `too late” power is only partially released and Zaraki does not know how to control it, so he can't use it against Atonomatsuri. (She also has the power so the effect is sort of cancelled out).

Where is Zaraki's body? He did go into a room and lock the door. As to where it is now, I know, but I'm not telling. Hehehehehehehe.

Why is everything in Zaraki's mind broken? I've tried to hint at it in the last few chapters. There is a full explanation in this chapter, with a possible explanation of the teddy bear. Hope it helps.

Why is Atonomatsuri a vulture? When I was creating Atonomatsuri, I immediately thought of a vulture (possibly due to some very bad jokes around `too late”). No other ideas worked.

The adages. When Atonomatsuri uses an adage, I usually have an idea of the sort of thing I want her to say. Search engines help (Yay, search engines), as do the products of a diseased brain (mine). Sometimes it can take a bit of time to find the right words and if I can't find the right adage, I make one up. (Guilty secret.) I also mangle the occasional adage, just for fun.

 

Reviews welcome.

 

With any luck I might even manage to get Zaraki completely out of his mind (pun intended) in the next chapter. Well that's the plan. It depends on whether Zaraki and Atonomatsuri cooperate.

 

MS