Another day, another drop!
Living together. It's a classic rom-com setup where a man and a woman share a roof and nurture their budding love. The kind of story where he walks into the bathroom not knowing she's there, or accidentally opens the door while she's changing—leading to that inevitable, sweet development. It's a beautiful trope. However, reality is a total gutter.
"Hey, aren't you going to wash up?"
"Wash up?"
Tier Halibel looked at me as if she had no idea what I was talking about. Come to think of it, I hadn't washed since arriving in this world either. No, there was no need to. I'm a Hollow.
"Then what about your clothes?"
"Clothes?"
Dammit. There was no need for clothes either. Since we aren't Arrancar yet, we don't exactly have a wardrobe to cycle through.
"Then... meals?"
"I am fine."
Holy shit! Thinking back, 'meals' in this world simply mean murdering your enemies. I wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed that once a Hollow reached the Vasto Lorde level, they could survive just by absorbing the ambient Reiatsu (Spiritual Pressure) around them. In short, there was no longer a biological necessity to hunt.
'Is there really no room for a rom-com dream in my life?!'
For the first time, I genuinely resented being reincarnated as a Hollow. Unless I evolved into an Arrancar quickly, the dream life I envisioned with Halibel would never happen. That meant I had to become a Vasto Lorde as soon as possible!
"Ooooooh!"
Suddenly, vigor surged through me. At this moment, I felt like I could take on anyone.
"An enemy?"
But then, Halibel, sensing the Reiatsu I had just spiked, flared her own Spiritual Pressure in response. I immediately shrunk back, intimidated. Yeah, reality truly was a gutter.
Four months had passed since I started living with Halibel. It had been a long time. During those four months, I had been diligently courting her. However, this woman was like a block of wood—completely unresponsive. She probably thought of me as little more than a mobile corpse. Nevertheless, I didn't give up! Oh no! If anything, my fighting spirit burned even hotter... until it finally turned into nothing but white ash.
"Of course, it's not like I made zero progress!"
After following Halibel around and constantly making my presence known, we had finally reached the point of using nicknames! Of course, I had to practically drill the concept into her head since she had no idea what a nickname even was. It was a victory for the sheer power of rote memorization.
"My nickname is Ruel, and Halibel is Tibel. Kehehehe... Hahahaha!"
The downside was that I had essentially wasted four months of my life on this.
"Ah, I really burned myself out."
I retreated to a corner of the cave to reenact my 'shining moment' of exhaustion. I wasn't actually dead, but I had definitely burned through something—probably my soul.
"Well, at least I've gotten a feel for what a Vasto Lorde is..."
Actually, those four months weren't entirely meaningless. I had started to grasp the essence of what it takes to become a Vasto Lorde. To move from Menos Grande (Gillian) to Adjuchas, one had to find their own ego. To reach Vasto Lorde, it seemed one had to embody an Aspect of Death.
Halibel's Aspect of Death is Sacrifice. Then, what is mine?
"What exactly is my Aspect of Death?"
It was a difficult question. I still hadn't figured it out. If I could grasp it, I could finally evolve, but it remained elusive. I couldn't see it. The known Aspects of Death were: Loneliness, Senescence, Sacrifice, Emptiness, Despair, Destruction, Intoxication, Madness, Greed, and Wrath. These ten represented the death-states of the Espada. So, what was the one destined for me?
"I really have no clue..."
What else was left? What could my Aspect be? Unable to summon a clear image, I simply shook my head.