Aokigahara. A location that was sort of infamous to the Shinigami. A place where, culturally, many afflicted souls gathered, and many, many Hollows were birthed. The gloom danced off the blue-green trees in a way that one might consider eerie, were they not an agent of Death itself. But either way, the yearly body sweeps by the government of the living did nothing for the Pluses chained to the trees who wept in penance. It was a gruesome sight, to be sure, but if Shuya was going to deal with all of them he'd be here all week.
Shuya had been working on this personal "task" of his for quite a while now. And while he was here on official business, there were multiple ways to look at that. These days he found himself doing a lot of work in darkness.
The mist was dense, flowing around his feet as he stepped silently through the woods. He could feel the weight of many spiritual pressures -- Hollows, drooling behind their masks, presuming him a meal. But each that gave into temptation died within moments as particles of iron formed beautiful facsimiles of flowers in their masks, tearing them apart from the inside out. Let it not be said that Shuya was an average groundskeeper of these afflicted woods. The smarter Hollows would know their place.
He stopped. Now he was deep enough in that he ought to find what -- or who -- he was looking for. He simply waited, knowing that his spiritual pressure alone would be enough.
Shuya had been working on this personal "task" of his for quite a while now. And while he was here on official business, there were multiple ways to look at that. These days he found himself doing a lot of work in darkness.
The mist was dense, flowing around his feet as he stepped silently through the woods. He could feel the weight of many spiritual pressures -- Hollows, drooling behind their masks, presuming him a meal. But each that gave into temptation died within moments as particles of iron formed beautiful facsimiles of flowers in their masks, tearing them apart from the inside out. Let it not be said that Shuya was an average groundskeeper of these afflicted woods. The smarter Hollows would know their place.
He stopped. Now he was deep enough in that he ought to find what -- or who -- he was looking for. He simply waited, knowing that his spiritual pressure alone would be enough.