To Protect is to Never Betray... These words had been pounded into his head a countless number of times. Requiem shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. Retaking the task at hand, he returned to his usual stance, ready to begin again. He wasn't allowed the luxury of his thoughts anyway as he rolled to the side to avoid the blade that now occupied the space where his neck was just at. He lunged forward, striking out with the bladed gauntlet, only to have it blocked by his opponents sword. Hoping to outmaneuver him, Requiem pushed against the sword, with the intent of unbalancing the man behind it, only to find himself the one off balance. Off balance, his opponent quickly threw Requiem to the wall of the room where he remained, unmoving.

"You're getting better, Ryoka." The Captain of the 8th Squad said through a smile as he approached a table on the other side of the room from where Requiem was slowly picking himself up off the floor. He poured himself a drink and turned back to face him, "It's almost hard to believe that only three days ago I found you lying on the floor in this room, covered in blood."

Requiem shook his head, finally composed once again, "I'm a little surprised myself to tell you the truth, but I guess you could say that I had a good teacher." These words brought another wave of memories back to him, memories of his old life that he'd rather have forgotten most of. Not that they were all bad, no worse than others, he was sure, but all in all, he believed he'd still be better off without them. Slowly, he pulled himself off the wall and made his way over to the Captain and poured himself a drink as well, if only to wash away the memories. "Hey, Kyoraku?" He asked suddenly, "Why do you train me in hiding? Is my presence here that wrong?"

The Captain remained silent for several moments, sipping his alcohal as though he hadn't a worry in the world. "You know, since you learned the name of your Zanpakuto, you've never once hit me." He nodded thoughtfully, "So tell you what, if you can hit me, even just one time, with Zaigou, then I will bring you forward to the Head Captain." As easy going as the challenge sounded, there was a clear flash of a challenge in the Squad Captain's eyes, daring Requiem to step up to it.

"Well, not quite an explanation, but it'll do." Requiem responded, downing the last of his drink before returning yet again to his original position. He was tired of hiding for all of the other Shinigami, but more than that, he really just wanted to get out of that room. Slowly, the Captain too returned to his starting point. The battle was on, and a series of quick flashes and sparks illuminated the two opposing forces.

After several minutes of fighting that to Requiem seemed like hours, Requiem saw an opening and struck out for it. As soon as the blade touched his skin, Kyoraku let out a shout of intense pain, falling backwards onto the hardwood floor of the room as nineteen years of pain and suffering flooded his body at once. Requiem pulled the bladed gauntlet back, sealing it into it's sword-state quickly before rushing to the side of the old man. The wound didn't look too deep or anything, barely more than a scratch. Nervously, he reached down to help him up, to which Kyoraku waved him away, pulling himself up as the pain subsided. He looked at Requiem, smiling weakly. "That's... Quite a weapon you've got there" He managed to say, backing up to the wall and using it as a support. "Definately didn't expect that kind of result"

Requiem was more than concerned, "Captain, what happened? I barely scratched you!" He had absolutely no idea what Zaigou was capable of. When he'd first met the Zanpakuto, the form he saw was that of a shadow wrapped in a heavily torn cloak, blood seeping through the tears. It neither moved nor spoke. It did nothing but give an ominous feel to Requiem, who while he should have feared it, did not. He recognized it. It felt familiar, like an old friend he'd known for his whole life.
"I think I know your Zanpakuto's power, I'll say that much. It inflicts pain. Your pain to be more precise. All of it at once." He nodded, fully composed once again, the pain gone. It was a true surprise to feel how much the youth had suffered through. He'd heard him talk in his sleep, but he never expected the boys life to be that bad.

Requiem looked down at the Falcata hanging at his side, not looking at the Captain. Of course he had no idea what the blade would do. He could have killed the Captain even. "Forgive me Kyoraku..." Was all he could manage to say.

"Relax Ryoka, I'm fine alright? Anyway, I made a promise to bring you in front of the Head Captain if you managed to hit me, didn't I? Well, I can't believe you actually hit me, but a promise is a promise. You will however, have to remain here until I can arrange for such a meeting." He smiled teasingly at Requiem who's only response was to let out a low grumble of annoyance.

"Fine... But hurry back, would you?" He mumbled, heading back over to the far wall and leaning against it.

"Calm down, it won't be that long my friend. Have a drink and relax, I'll be back when I can" He said before quickly leaving the room, and leaving Requiem to his thoughts.

He knew he had little else to do, so Requiem opted for fading out for a while. Leaning back onto the floor, he closed his eyes, and left the world he was in behind.

[i]"Req! We're headin' in! Try not to fall behind." A familiar voice called to him. Slowly he opened his eyes to register the sight of his friend, Seven, standing about halfway between himself and the building. "You're always late man! You're gonna miss out on all the fun, now c'mon!" The voice of his friend pulled him from his daze, and brought him back to the job.

"Ugh... Man, talk about killing my sleep. Alright, Alright, I'm coming already, sheesh!" He may have been the best marksman in the Grave unit, but he was also the laziest, constantly known for taking naps and his general lack of concern for the things around him. He looked over to Seven as he approached. He'd met Seven when he'd first joined Millenion, just a punk kid trying to find a way out of the world. Turns out he wasn't the only one. Since then, he and Seven had been pretty close. They partnered up any chance they got for missions. It was always better that way. Between his skill, and Seven's luck, they had never failed to complete a mission perfectly.

As he caught up with Seven, he managed to catch a glimpse of their boss. Brandon Heat. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a good guy, and more loyal to the family than any person he'd ever met, possibly even more loyal than Big Daddy himself. He was a good man, the kind of guy one could only aspire to become like.

As was the way of the plan, Requiem split around to the back of the building and stepped inside. They'd been sent to put pressure on a banker that had been working with a rival gang. Requiem's job wasn't too difficult, all he had to do was make sure that nobody left that wasn't supposed to and to keep an eye out for reinforcements, and minimize their numbers should the arrive. [/i]

"Oi... Ryoka, get up."

It was a voice Requiem was most definately not accustomed to. It was rougher, more arrogant sounding. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the man who had spoken. He was a large man, overly so by normal standards, with rediculously spiky hair that appeared to have bells attatched to the ends. Behind him were two more people. A Bald guy, and a... He couldn't tell if it was a man or not.

"So you're awake, good. Get up, the Old Man wants to see you" He said gruffly, completely ignoring the fact that Requiem had just woken up.

"Alright, Alright, I'm getting up" Requiem grumbled pulling himself up off the floor and brushing himself off. He wasn't sure who 'The Old Man' was, but he didn't have much choice in the matter. He didn't really feel like fighting these guys. He doubted he'd be able to take them on anyway. "Alright, lead the way"