Darkness covered the corners of a barrack, laying lone and quiet. Things were different, things had changed; it was all because it had happened. No matter how many flower arrangements covered the small area, or how crisp the sheets were, it wouldn't change anything. Nothing could change this, nothing would ever change this. This barrack was stuck in the world of the lost, and tied down by mourning. The flower arrangements had died swiftly, lacking the care they needed, and had not been replaced. The sheets on the bed were abnormally ruffled instead of their crisp and clean manner. Those sheets had rarely ever been used, but they were dirty and ragged. The table was splintered in the ground, a paper door was torn. Even the tatami mats were left in the poorest of conditions, dyed a brown, rusted color at spots. The room was caught in ruin; then again, it had only been a day. Only a day... since it happened...
"I see you, Mizuki..." those had been the words no one had heard. Those words were the trigger of full-on chaos.
It was still so bright, so vivid, and this room replayed it all. Anemone had fled to the 7th Division as soon as the call came from the lucky Unseated Member that had collapsed in her courtyard. Shunpo had carried her on the wings on the wind, her body pleading for a break from the sudden action. She had been at rest, away from the danger beginning to brew on her friend's grounds. But the moment she entered the gates, she knew exactly what she saw all too well.
The Nightmares, Anemone had deemed the ghastly beings that floated about the air. Mizuki's bankai ability was plain and simple, but not at all harmless. The fog was heavy and hazy, and members were running about in it aimlessly; screams echoed about the grounds, and lower-seated members wept under the cover of the beings. Anxiety was being induced quickly, but it built even more in the pits of her stomach when she realized the damage that the Nightmares were doing. They had never been physical. They had never been a whole. The Nightmares were just an illusion that was created, but here they stood, tearing at shihakusho and scratching shallow markings into the frightened faces. Some had drawn their blades to fight, releasing their shikai readily, and others battled continuously with their fists as well as kidou. But as soon as each one had disappeared, another took its place quickly. They were seemingly stealing the oxygen from the air with their hazy bodies. This is why she had been called. But her mind wasn't focused on the Nightmares, nor was it focused on the foreign reiatsu that was building in the division and causing the members to gasp for air. It was her dearest friend who was in the true danger.
"It's all my fault..." Anemone choked out, grasping at the now-ruined tatami mats, as if they would free her from her memory. But they couldn't even stop this replaying from the continuous motif that it had followed.
Shunsui had already arrived. Anemone could sense him past the gates of the Division. His reiatsu was pulsing throughout the sodden air, meshing with the reiatsu of a Hollow. That was where she needed to be. She needed to get closer to Mizuki, closer to Shunsui. They were the blanket of comfort that she had held onto for years. They were the people closest to her. Anemone had to greet the man that had gone out drinking with her many-a-time. She had to talk to him; she needed to be awoken from this dream that was created by Mizuki's Nightmares. Like a frantic child, she ran, her face getting scraped up in the process as she waved her arms through the mass of false bodies. She swatted at them like a machete to brushwood.
It wasn't too long before she had made her way inside the heart of the grounds, she had made her way to Mizuki's office. Shunsui had already begun the battle that neither of them ever expected to come. They were taking down Mizuki... and her Inner Hollow. Her heart was quick to snap in two as she saw Shunsui already doing a dangerous dance with their swift friend. Even in her frightening form, her body still danced in through the battle. The upper seats were trying to support him, but they were getting thrown about like apple cores; they were a pointless match for the battling woman. Mizuki was losing. Shunsui was losing.
And when Mizuki had died, Anemone had truly lost.
Now all that was left was the ruined bedroom that belonged to her friend, disheveled by the members that had ended up trapped in there. Anemone was torn apart herself, not only mentally and emotionally, but physically as well. For in the end, she had to help kill her closest friend alongside Shunsui. All she could do was look at the room and weep. Her great skill in healing kidou meant nothing. She failed to save her friend, and she could never revive the dead... So, she reluctantly dragged herself off the floor, and wiped her tears with the edges of her robes.
In the end, Anemone trudged out the gates and didn't look back once... she wished to mourn alone, without the photographic memories of her friend's death.