Grey's Bankai Story
A blinding bright lemon sun hung stagnantly in the clear blue sky. Nearly no clouds were seen hovering above. Only a few thin, wispy cirrus clouds sat still, scattered across the blue canvas. Any sign of wind or even the slightest horizontal air movement was nonexistent. Even the high level cirrostratus clouds seemed unmoved by any atmospheric jet streams of gale force wind currents. The sky seemed like an everlasting still painting or dried oils.
Below the tan sands lay unshifted. A near flat terrain with tall, thin black pillars of stone and dark opaque crystal cones that exhumed from the depths of the desert sand. In the distance lay a range of deep blue mountains and hills. A dark slate colored outline of peaks, plateaus and valleys gave the perfect backdrop to the desert scene. It gave a sense of hope as if to say that not all was hot, flat desert and that only a walk away lay comforting coolness.
This view was distorted though by the rising, rippling air that waved back and forth above the desert floor. As the lays of physics state, hot air rises while the cool air sinks causing a vertical density difference flow. Everything seemed unmoved, unbothered, and uneroded. A deathly stillness hung in this eerie place. This was the living space of demonized souls; the purgatory of the once evil living and long forsaken dead. This was the world of the hollows. This was Hueco Mundo.
A distant whistling radiated through Hueco Mundo. Off in the distance, two racing clouds of dust and sand could be seen. The trails of sand resembled oncoming trains with pointed ends at the front most point closet to the ground. The figures within were mere shadows as the clouds shielded their forms from view. The streams moved extremely quickly as their movement produced a whistling noise in the air. After only a few seconds the once far away figures were now within touching distance and came to a sliding halt. The dust cloud slowly settled to reveal the true forms of the speed demons. They were two well tanned men. Both seemed to like the color black as most of their apparel was such. Sleeveless vests and baggy kung fu pants were sported by both in said color making them look almost identical. Only a few nuances separated the two, age being among them as one seemed to be in his early to mid thirties. He donned a pitch black sash round his waist and a pure white cape down his back which stuck to two points on his chest. The other was a younger man barely exiting his teen years. He had on a gray sash with a large gray flowing coat resembling those of the shinigami captain. Both had black socks with tan, rawhide sandals beneath. Two unusually dressed shinigami it seemed, but only one carried a blade, the one in gray.
"Your speed is exceptional Grey. But now is when we begin work." The man with the white cape spoke with the tone of knowledge, as if having eternal wisdom. He walked forward past Grey's left side. Grey, the younger individual, examined the man up and down as he passed him by noticing a feeling of relaxation emitting from him. "Sensai," Grey spoke, "The entire time, since leaving Soul Society and coming to this place, has been weird and awkward. But one thing keeps bothering me." Grey turns around to face the migrating man. The older man abruptly stopped walking away and laughed lightly. "My name is Black Hack, not 'sensai'." He turned quickly in place to face Grey. "I am not here to teach you or anyone for that matter. I will merely help you unlock what you already have within you. Nothing new will be taught and no curriculum has been made for you to learn." He paused to smile a little with closed eyes. He reopened his lids to look at Grey with warm smile. "Now… What have you been wondering?" Grey looks down at his zanpaktou. He then looks up at Black with a confused face while scratching his head. "Where's your zanpaktou?" Black looked up at the sky and chuckled lightly. "I guess you should at the very least get to see them." Grey's right brow perked up at the sound of 'them'.
Black straightened up pressing his feet and legs tightly together side by side. He folded his arms and took a long inhale. Once his chest reached maximum capacity, he exhaled slowly through his nose. As he did so, his white cape and black sash began to disintegrate into flowing particles of dust. The two separate dusts remained their respective colors of white and black and flowed through the air like snakes. The two masses of dust slithered their way to Black's hands as he continued his long exhale and stretched out his hands down to his sides with hands open. The white dust gathered within his right hand as black particles gathered within his left. The two collected into rod-like shapes gripped at one by Black's hands as he began to inhale. The particles compacted into wafers of light and shadow as they applied themselves layer upon layer to the forming rods. Black reached his limits of inhalation and quickly let out a fast and powerful exhale. A burst of transparent blue reitsu kicks up a cloud of dust and sand around Black in all directions. His shadowy outline dwelled within the cloud and from the hands emanated two slim pointed objects of about two and a half feet in length. The dust died down to reveal Black gripping two wakizashi. One a pure white and the other a pitch black. "Kuro and Shiro… hane." He hold up the dark black wakizashi in a horizontal position parallel to the ground. "Kurohane…" His right arm comes out perpendicularly and he angles the white blade upward slightly. "Shirohane… These are my zanpaktou."
Grey's eyes widen and he looks on in awe. "This guy has two zanpaktou!" And he molds them like clay!" Grey shook his head into reality and stumbled to ask, "Uhm, uh, what do they do?" Black dropped his arms and crushed the two blades. They reformed as the flowing white cape and rippled black sash. "For now, you need not know." Black sat back into midair. His cape folded under him to form a sort of hovering base or cushion. He sank into the cape a little and leaned to the left placing his chin in between the valley of his first and second knuckle. "Let's get started."
Black raised his left arm and signaled towards Grey's sword. "Show me your zanpaktou." Grey hesitated a bit. He was embarrassed of himself and humbled Black's outstanding presentation. None the less, Grey spread his legs and grabbed at the gray clothed hilt of his zanpaktou with his right hand. "Terasu, Haiirohane." He unsheathed the blade quickly. A bright white light emitted from the typical location of the sword's blade and seemed to take its form as well. The luminosity died down to reveal a polished silver blade. Grey looked up at Black to see only the same expression. No subtle change of the brow or weak smile had seemed to have been produced by Grey's revelation of his sword. "So what do you think, Black?" Black closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He reopened to say, "So you can't even go bankai yet?" Black opened his hand to place his chin on the inside of his palm. "Let's begin there then. Summon the spirit of Haiirohane!" Grey was disappointed at his new guides reaction, but he regained confidence upon the command to bring forth his zanpaktou's spirit, for that was something that he could actually do.
Grey took a step back and held out his blade with both hands. "Come out, Haiirohane!" Grey let go of the hilt. The sword hovered in midair and began to slither like a loose, flexible rubber expanding into a round, cylindrical thickness. The mass grew to about twice the length of Grey himself yet coiled itself to stay at about the same height. The mass of gray hardened and solidified into scales and claws, whiskers and hair, flesh and bone; all in varying shades of dark and light grays. "What the hell do you want?" An oriental dragon spoke brazenly with its back to Black. "Don't talk like that to me Haiiro!" Grey bellowed back at the bratty dragon.
"To obtain Bankai… you must tame the beast." Black interrupted the two's bickering. "Become the alpha male. And hold its name in your palm." The two stopped arguing and Grey peered past Haiiro at Black. He didn't quite understand what to do but the dragon in front of him did. Its mouth showed signs of an amused smile. "You want Bankai? Is that it!?" The dragon laughed loudly and arrogantly. Its voice echoed throughout the desert plain. Slowly it died doen to a light chuckle. Haiirohane looked at Grey as if to say, 'Silly boy.' The dragon's right arm came across his slender body as if reaching for, yet past, the left shoulder. In a blink, it whipped it's arm and hand back to the right creating a line of white light in the air as it's claws passed in front. Haiiro stretched out its arms perpendicular to its body and parallel to the ground. Its three claws opened and its arms began to angle inward towards the light line. It slashed and scratched at the light shredding it into millions of thin wafers and lines. The specks and pieces and scattered as if propelled by an explosion in the center. The light shreds expanded into rods and embedded themselves into the sand. The beam rods molded into wakizashis of every color under the rainbow. Blue, red, yellow, green and orange swords dotted the landscape. Nearly every color under the spectrum of light was represented in a sword. Grey looked around at the forest of colored zanpaktou in awe.
"Attain my true form and defeat me with it. Only then will I give you Bankai." The dragon gave his wielder only that clue. Grey looked around for anything familiar He scanned back and forth for even the slightest hint of, "Found it!" Grey shunpoed left and right juking the many embedded blades. He stopped at one, quickly extruding it and flash stepping back towards Haiirohane. Grey utilized his battle experience and stepping expertise to fake right and shunpo up into the air, then slash downward at Haiiro from the upper left. The dragon turned its head to face Grey with a smile. The blade of the sword smashed against the scales of the serpent and shattered into shreds of gray light. The dragon slithered to a side as Grey hovered downward dumbfounded and thrusted its knee into his stomach blasting him back some feet away. Grey's body bounced and slide to a halt. His eyes stared upward as he flashed back a few minutes into the past. "Was I wrong?" A memory clip of his hand grabbing at an all gray wakizashi stuck out in his mind. "I'm pretty sure that was Haiiro." Grey lie down on the ground defeated and stared into the sky. An image of Black's expressionless face entered his mind. "No! I won't give up now! Not yet!" Grey rolls back onto his shoulders tucking his knees into his chest and swiftly pops to his feet. Over in the distance, a smile crept across Black Hack's face.
Grey quickly runs over to the closest blade. He yanks out a deep blue sword and shunpos towards Haiiro avoiding all strategy. He slashes downward once again but the dragon blocks the sword with a section of blue scales on its forearm exactly the same hue as the blade in Grey's hands. The edge shatters and disperses as Grey gets knocked back for the second time. This time he rebounds with a one handed back handspring into a crouched position and stares at the blue section of scales on Haiiro. "That wasn't there before." The blue on Haiiro's scales began to fade and recede into the cracks and creases between the scales and gave way once again to the shades of dark and light gray. The blue seemed to merely have been a film atop the gray scales.
The young shinigami tried again, this time snatching a light orange blade. The exact same outcome came from this as Grey was knocked back some feet away. This was with the only variation that that color of the scales used to block and shatter the sword was different and that not the same body part or section of scales was used.
Grey would not give up. He had left Soul Society to gain power. Not to be toyed with by the spirit of his very own zanpaktou. He tried again and again with the same unwanted result. Day's time went by yet the painted sun of Hueco Mundo seemed everlasting. An entire week passed with Grey repeatedly trying new swords with similar conclusions before the sun finally set. In the dark, under the crescent moon he continued his bankai battle. The same seemed to happen each time with Grey merely exhausting himself.
Another week finished as the sun rose again and the world was extracted from darkness. Grey no longer shunpoed or even ran from sword to dragon, then dragon to sword and back again. He staggered in what seemed like a jog or walked slowly. It took more and more time for him to get to his feet after each and ever knock back. Black still peered attentively, almost unblinkingly. Grey seemed to be losing any sense of sanity as he became almost a windup doll. Getting up, grabbing a sword, attacking, getting knocked down and repeating.
Grey got up from a recent attack after a few minutes of self motivation and rest. It was day three in the third week fro the sun was in the noon position. He staggered over to a random sword, collapsing to a knee upon reaching it. He held to the hilt of the blade for support with both hands. He pushed up and slowly extruded the blade. Still on one knee, his head simply flopped forward. His chin rested on his chest as he peered down at a bluish, aqua green sword. His vision faded in and out of black and blurred when strained. "Is this it?" Grey lifted his head and screamed into the sky. "AGH!!" His voice echoed into the desert. Grey got up in a burst of energy and adrenaline. He passed two fingers, his index and middle, down the length of the blade edge. He grabbed at the end upon reaching it and smashed the sword over his knee. "AGH!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs in a desperate rage. But the sword hadn't done the usual. Rather than snap in half or even bend, the sword had disintegrated into a dust cloud of aqua green specks. The dust gathered around his closed right fist and formed a round, semicircular, aqua green glove of light resembling a blunt bullet casing. A smile once again entered Black's face. He whispered under his breath, "Finally…"
Grey examined the light around his hand and looked up at the surrounding swords. They began to disintegrate as well and numerous flows of different color dusts gathered upon his right fist. The light glove did not change in size but did however change color with every addition of dust. Soon the glove shone a pure white. Grey looked around at Haiiro with a new found confidence. In a final burst of energy, Grey runs towards Haiirohane. He stumbles yet continues his journey head on. His right fist covered in a white light is held high at his shoulder, cocked back and ready to strike as he closes in on his target, Haiiro. With a yell and a final step, Grey punches the dragon, Haiirohane, square in the face. The dragon explodes into a flow of white light dust. The cloud of dust gathers up and around his arm and compacts itself upon his skin. His right arm becomes a magnet for the wafers and specks of white light. As the mold collects and compresses a rod extrudes from Grey's right hand. Still shining with a bright white intensity, the definite meaning of the form is unknown until the light explodes in a flash of white radiance. It dies down to reveal an armor of pure white dragon scales upon Grey's right arm. The armor begins as a gauntlet around Grey's right hand and ends in a triangular point extruding upward from his shoulder. In his grip lies a pure white wakizashi with the same features of his shikai. Grey's vest and pants remain black yet his irises emit a faint white glow. "Akado Haiiro." Grey stands proudly in his new form. After a few seconds, his eyes roll back into his head and he falls back onto the ground. Black shunpos over to his side cathing him before he fell. Black lies him down with a smile and a chuckle, "Rest apprentice…"