To speak, or not to speak?
Harry's having a little trouble with the release command for Darksun's first form. Takes place before the events of Wizard and Zanpakuto, chapter three.

Harry threw himself to the side, and the asphalt exploded where he'd been standing a moment before. He didn't quite manage to roll the way Darksun taught him, but still regained his feet in time to raise his sword over his head and block a thickly-clawed hand that was bigger than his head.

"I feel stupid!" he shouted out loud.

The hand suddenly retreated, causing Harry to stumble so that he barely dodged the tail that flew toward him an instant later.

"Keep this up, and you're gonna feel dead!" an echoing voice responded.

Even if anyone remained on the street by this time – all the humans had fled at the first 'gas explosion' – they wouldn't have heard either voice.

"Hurry up! You're not strong enough to take this one on sealed. Call out the release already."

Harry ducked another swipe and looked up at the hollow that towered above him.

It was thick-shouldered and stood hunched over on all fours, something like a dog with hind legs slightly shorter than its front ones. A long, wedge-shaped tail stood straight out behind it, and a bone-white mask which looked like something caught between human and lizard obscured its face. The hollow was big, strong, and probably just as stupid as it looked.

Unfortunately, the apparent lack of intelligence wasn't slowing its movements down any.

The hollow reared up, blocking out the sun, and Harry took the chance to charge forward and slam his dual-edged long sword against the creature's shin. The sharp edge barely made a scratch in the hollow's dark brown hide.

"Can't I shorten it?" Harry begged, ducking the tail again as the hollow spun around.

"No."

"You said the phrase for me the first time, so could—"

"No. First time's an exception. Now that you know it – high jump—"

Harry did it without question, tucking his legs up so that they cleared the hollow's low hand-swipe. He lashed out immediately, and the tip of his sword scored another thin scratch in the hollow's arm.

"—now that you know it," Darksun continued, "you need to say it. Every time. Hurry up."

"You can't be serious," Harry moaned. He dove forward stubbornly, thrusting his sword at the hollow's knee. It missed, and Harry's quick reflexes barely saved him from another street-crushing fist.

"Dead serious."

Darksun sounded it, too.

"Release before you die, already. I am NOT going through the headache of getting you to listen again."

The hollow was getting a headache as well, apparently. Roaring fit to wake the dead – though they had probably all cleared out after the first explosion as well – it rushed forward, swiping alternately with both hands.

Harry ducked the first blow, jumped back to avoid the second, and was just getting set to attack through an opening the last swing left when the first hand came back and struck him forcefully along the side.

The world turned sideways, and Harry was barely aware of the rush of air over him as he flew away. Darksun rose and pressed at something in his soul; Harry felt the red energy rise up and cover him in a thin flicker.

"Here!" Darksun said, and he pressed control of that power into Harry's hands the instant before they hit the ground for the first time.

When he finally bounced and skidded to a halt, there were five small dents in the road, chips of asphalt were still flying through the air, and the hollow was sniffing and grunting in his direction as though it wasn't quite sure how he'd survived that.

Harry stood up gingerly, releasing his aura and letting it sink back into his soul. He was sore all over, but nothing was broken at least.

"Thanks," he muttered, climbing out of the pothole his body had just made and taking a stance on firmer ground.

"You wouldn't have needed the help," Darksun almost growled, "if you'd just released me the first time I said to."

"But…it just feels stupid."

The hollow had figured out that Harry was, indeed, still alive. It was now pondering (slowly) whether or not it should attack again.

"Yeah, 'cause you've got such a big audience right now."

"That's not the point," Harry protested.

The hollow gave up on thinking and just lumbered toward him again, red eyes burning behind the mask.

"Here he comes. You've still got a moment, so do it quick."

"Seriously, Dark, what kind of idiot poses and spouts off some line just like that?"

"What kind of idiot waves a stick around and spouts off nonsense words just like that?"

Harry thought that was something entirely different, but he was forced to spare the words in favor of blocking the hollow's sudden charge. His sword shook under the pressure, and he grit his teeth, pressing back. Then the hollow threw its weight forward and, for the second time in as many minutes, Harry found himself flying back through the air.

Even with his aura shielding him, the landing was anything but soft.

"If this kills you, I'm gonna be ticked."

Harry stood up and fought with himself. On the one hand, Dark was right: this was bad. His aura hadn't protected him fully that time; his left shoulder throbbed terribly, and he could feel something wet trickling down across his right temple. On the other…

You can't be serious.

But he was. Merlin, he was.

"Trust me, Harry…it could be a hell of a lot worse."

He didn't try to imagine how. He didn't argue back. Instead, Harry just sighed and held his sword out to one side, the tip pointing at the ground at an angle.

You win, he thought grimly, but I still feel like a complete idiot doing this.

He said it as quickly as he could in an effort to get it over with.

"Rise-from-death's-shadow-Dark-Sun!"

The sword changed into a katana with a flare of red fire, and Harry instantly felt stronger, more confident, more powerful. His shoulder didn't feel so bad any more, and he barely noticed the feeling of blood across the side of his face.

Harry couldn't stop the smile from erupting.

That hollow suddenly didn't seem so massively tall.

He didn't waste words; in a mere instant, Harry charged forward and swung the katana at the hollow's outstretched hand. This time, the sword bit deep, severing a finger fully before the hollow managed to jerk back, howling in pain.

Not giving it time to recover, Harry jumped up and slammed the black blade downward through the white mask.

The hollow froze mid-scream. Its brown form shimmered away into nothingness, allowing Harry a brief glimpse of the plus soul it had once been – a young man with a look of surprise melting into peace on his features – before that, too, vanished away.

Harry breathed deeply, properly feeling the exhaustion of battle at last. He raised his sword horizontally and placed his left hand on the flat of the blade to feel the faint hum of power in it.

"Good job."

Harry smiled wearily. Then, pressing just a little bit, he sealed the katana back into its original form and sheathed it.

Perhaps, he reflected as he trudged down the street, bypassing the city vehicles that were just arriving to investigate the explosions, saying that release command isn't so bad after all.

Perhaps.

Bonus for those interested or curious: I have an image up on DeviantArt of Harry (slightly older with shikai release) and a profile view of Dark. Copy, paste, and remove the spaces in the url to see it: http:// oreramar. deviantart. com /art/Wizard-and-Zanpakuto-159277396