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Chapter 13: Kurayami II
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The Ink shrouded him, dragging him into the abyss that's the ocean of Ink... Akashi couldn't handle the Voices.
It was more than a day before Akashi woke up, cold sweat pouring down his back, his breathing ragged, and in a daze as he comprehended what had happened.
The moment he laid eyes on the Black Sphere, he experienced, all the darkness and negativity he had ever inflicted and experienced.
Most importantly, in that single moment, he experienced all the negativity around him, what felt like all the darkness of the entire World.
The negativity was unbearable, a swirling storm of despair, malice, and hatred.
It wasn't just the voices; He felt the emotions, as if they were a tide threatening to drown him.
The Voices... So chaotic they were, people's cries, despair, sorrow, and hopelessness.
Every phrase, every word that ever had something to do with negativity seemed to have been whispered to him in that single moment.
It took long for Akashi's chaotic mind to settle down, upon which he smiled.
For the next year, Akashi returned to the inner world again and again. Each time, he would endure longer before succumbing to the overwhelming negativity.
His persistence bordered on obsession. No, it far surpassed obsession, his focus on entering and understanding the world within consuming all other aspects of his life.
But the effects began to show.
Akashi began to grow distant, and by the second year of his academy life, his detachment grew into something darker.
The whispers from the inner world seemed to follow him, echoing faintly in the back of his mind even when he was awake.
His interactions with others became curt, his eyes cold, often absent-minded, and frightening to those who looked into them.
During sparring sessions in Zanjutsu or Hakuda, his unintentional killing intent became palpable, and suffocating.
Classmates avoided him, their faces pale as they whispered behind his back.
Stories spread about how he had shattered the will of several students during duels, breaking them so thoroughly that they either quit the academy or became hollow shells of their former selves.
It's said that when they fought him, they started hearing voices, voices so grim it can drive one mad.
Akashi didn't seem to care. Or perhaps he didn't notice.
Even his instructors began to treat him differently, their usual critiques laced with wariness.
But they did nothing to intervene. The Soul Society was no stranger to cruelty, and the academy thrived on competition and survival of the fittest.
Hell, even someone like Mayuri Kurotsuchi thrived in Soul Society, and that's someone who's unbelievably unhinged.
With time, Akashi got used to the abyss. He got used to living through his dark childhood all over again... It was somewhat painful.
Still, he persisted. The darkness stretched endlessly around Akashi as he stood within his inner world, the suffocating weight pressing down on him like an oppressive tide.
He stepped forward, his breath steady. Each stride carried him closer to the dark sphere, and with every step, the abyss lashed out at him.
Whispers of despair and rage echoed in his ears; familiar voices, ones he recognized from long-dead enemies, fallen victims, and even fragments of his own darkness.
The sphere pulsed with a faint hum as Akashi came closer, its chaotic form shifting and writhing in response to his presence.
The air grew heavier, but Akashi seemingly basked in it, his hand reaching out toward the swirling mass. When his fingers grazed its surface, the void reacted violently.
Suddenly, the whispers turned to screams, an unrelenting cacophony of suffering, rage, and despair.
The memories struck him with ferocity; every face he had killed, every drop of blood spilled, every sin committed in his rise from the gutters of Rukongai.
Yet, unlike the first time he'd experienced this, he didn't stagger. He laughed.
It wasn't loud or maniacal, but a deep, resonating chuckle, filled with amusement and fulfillment for enduring something few can ever endure.
If his chuckle was a challenge, then the darkness obliged, intensifying its assault.
But Akashi welcomed it all; the fear, the anger, the sorrow. These weren't things to be feared or overcome.
Now that he understood what the Voices were. He realized that they were his allies, the foundation of his strength. He let them sink into his being, embracing every shard of negativity that the void threw at him.
The world fell silent.
The Voices disappeared. Instead, Akashi heard only one word as his hand finally came in touch with the hovering object.
Akashi finally realized what the elongated pentagonal bipyramid is... It's the handle, the core of his Zanpakuto.
The black sphere within the handle began to shift, its surface rippling like liquid, and a single word resonated in his mind.
Kurayami.
The name echoed through his very soul, filling him with an unshakable certainty and fulfillment.
When Akashi opened his eyes, the first rays of dawn were breaking over the academy.
He was still seated in the garden, the cool grass beneath him damp with morning dew.
His Asauchi lay across his lap, its once lifeless surface now shimmering faintly with an inner light.
He exhaled slowly, his breath steady and controlled. The inner world had left its mark on him, not as a scar but as a part of his uniqueness.
He ran his fingers along the hilt of his Asauchi, the name of his Zanpakuto whispering in his mind like a dark promise: Kurayami.
Akashi, his expression serene, a faint smile emerged on his face, expressing his satisfaction with his Zanpakuto.
'Zanpakuto spirit,' Akashi mused. The Zanpakutō's name is the name of the living spirit which empowers the sword and lends its strength to the Shinigami who wields it.
These beings can vary greatly in appearance, and have their own distinct personalities, which are similar to their owner's.
Akashi had to wonder how his personality was similar to his Zanpakuto spirit for it's literally the black sphere hovering in his inner world. It's the source of the Ink, or rather, all Darkness within.
'My Zanpakuto is weirdly lovely,' Akashi let out a chuckle as he stood up, his dark eyes widening as he turned his Asauchi upside down, his grasp on its hilt tightening.
What he would do next would've stayed a secret, and if told to him before hearing his Zanpakuto's name, he would never have believed he would do something like this.
However, it's exactly because he learned his Zanpakuto's name and abilities that he must do this, for Kurayami is special.
Akashi released his Reiatsu, emerging outwards like the darkest of shadows... His Reiatsu was the darkest it had ever been, with only a hint of crimson within.
"Let there be shadows, born from the darkest of dreams... Kurayami." Akashi muttered in the most lifeless of manners.
What he muttered was what is called a Kaigo, a release incantation which when followed by the name of the Zanpakutō, activates Shikai. It's his own special release incantation.
With, Akashi's dark Reiatsu settled down, surrounding his Zanpakuto like a tornado before being devoured by it.
Akashi grasped the black hilt tighter. It was the same hilt from his Inner world, with the same black sphere within, except that from the hilt, Ink dripped, forming a long blade.
It was a dark blade, unusually long, an Odachi blade, about 200 cm long. Yet, it felt weightless in Akashi's hand.
Even the black sphere became smaller to be accommodated within the blade's thin hilt, just the size of a bead, revolving around itself... The blade was gorgeous.
Akashi couldn't help but trace his fingers along the blade. It felt solid, like steel despite being formed from the Ink spilling from the dark sphere.
"Akashi..." Akashi's attention by the voice right by him. He reluctantly took his eyes off his blade and saw that without him realizing it, several of the teachers appeared before him.
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