Negotiations

The Human World had always surpassed any spiritual realm in beauty. Naive as the humans may be, they failed to recognize what magnificence their nature entailed, but any spiritual being that got the chance of residing in the world of flesh and blood was awe-struck every single moment - sometimes by the sheer idiocy which mankind used to ravage all of this wonderfulness.

Tranquility and quiescence were never far in the physical dimension. At least, not on normal days. Although unnoticed by normal humans, any spiritually-aware being in the vicinity would be alarmed when a great senkaimon divided the space-time continuum to allow a safe passageway for a momentarily-still-hidden visitor. Out of the shining bridge stepped a long-haired figure, physically a young man. His blue hair, tied in a ponytail, was swept to his left when the wind performed it's playful dance. A small black butterfly rested atop his shoulder, flapping it's wings slowly as the senkaimon imploded silently, leaving no trace of it's existence.

The figure took another step, displacing it's body out of the shadow of a tree which had kept it's features hidden from the outside world. It was Sōsaku Yawarakai, a name that appeared in children's horror stories and in grown men's nightmares, the big bad wolf of the Soul Society underground. He sniffed up the fresh air, a menacing grin splitting his face in half. He was not on a holiday, no, he had came here in search of a man who could be of great interest to him. Saigo Murakami