The reiatsu signature that had been faint had returned to the Palace. It wasn't full force yet, but it was definitely that same signature, and some of the similarities to another were unmistakable.
It was worth investigating, and Hojo's curiosity had overtaken his dislike of leaving the labs for more than necessary journeys. He had a coffee machine, which meant the only things he needed to venture out for were food, cigarettes, and subjects. And he was working on the food situation.
He walked down the corridors with his hands clasped behind his back and a thoughtful expression. He'd require a sample to confirm the identity, really, even though he was sure of it anyway. Better to be thorough.
He could tell his desired subject was in the kitchen, and he wasn't alone, and Hojo entered without a word. Hebira's child, an Arrancar he hadn't met but whose reiatsu was always lingering in the kitchen, the selkie Arrancar he'd met, the blond ryoka...
Silver hair, no mistaking that, and a youthful arrogance to the reiatsu signature that meant it both hid and advertised itself. More slender than the first subject had been by this approximate age, but he'd also lacked the further experimentation and training. Hojo's experiments with this one had been disturbed.
Hojo adjusted his glasses and approached the boy. "Yes," he said to himself, "unmistakable."
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Date: 2016-01-05 07:54 pm (UTC)The reiatsu signature that had been faint had returned to the Palace. It wasn't full force yet, but it was definitely that same signature, and some of the similarities to another were unmistakable.
It was worth investigating, and Hojo's curiosity had overtaken his dislike of leaving the labs for more than necessary journeys. He had a coffee machine, which meant the only things he needed to venture out for were food, cigarettes, and subjects. And he was working on the food situation.
He walked down the corridors with his hands clasped behind his back and a thoughtful expression. He'd require a sample to confirm the identity, really, even though he was sure of it anyway. Better to be thorough.
He could tell his desired subject was in the kitchen, and he wasn't alone, and Hojo entered without a word. Hebira's child, an Arrancar he hadn't met but whose reiatsu was always lingering in the kitchen, the selkie Arrancar he'd met, the blond ryoka...
Silver hair, no mistaking that, and a youthful arrogance to the reiatsu signature that meant it both hid and advertised itself. More slender than the first subject had been by this approximate age, but he'd also lacked the further experimentation and training. Hojo's experiments with this one had been disturbed.
Hojo adjusted his glasses and approached the boy. "Yes," he said to himself, "unmistakable."