The Freedom of Pride.

And I will not step back,

Even if the sky cries,

Begging that I die.

I will survive.

Chapter 1. Hebi to Hokori.*

The heavily built contestant, named Hebikuro was seen talking to Lord Ryukubo in the late hours of the first day of the competition. It has been a long standing practice, that after the first several rounds of Subeseishin* nobles made offers to one or two exquisite fighters in order to recruit them into their private defense forces. The practice was a method for some of the players to get out of the fight with relatively small toil taken. In the case of Habikuro, there was no meaningful hindrance that would prevent his shapely performance in the last round at all, but the offer was swiftly accepted with an abrupt bow of his tattooed scalp. Still, when the individual battle began in the early hours of the third day of the new year, Hebikuro didn't seem to let up at all. His two rivals were carried out half conscious in less then 15 minutes into the battle, which resulted in Hebikuro gaining quite a number of fans among the Soul Reaper Academy students who cheered loudly from their seats in the fourth and fifth rows of the round arena.

"He does have an unusually high stamina." commented Jushiro Ukitake.

"Such performance doesn't change the pressure readings very much though." answered

Captain Kyoraku, who joined his friend in the Captain Box of the stadium, which was constructed every 5 years outside the North Gate and then meticulously brought back down after the New Year's celebrations ended.

Hebikuro idly used his ebony sword to beat out an even, foreboding rhythm in the sand beneath his feat waiting for another opponent. The formula of the competition changed substantially in the last years. What with the substitution of heavy weapons with wooden swords and prolonging the whole event to two days, where fights were held in a strict order, the Subeseishin was currently a competition concentrated on discerning the souls with the highest potential to grow under strenuous activity.

"Argh! This is boring!" exclaimed Kenpachi. "Look Ukitake what you've gone and done with yer constant yammering over the last 100 years. Uuuu... there is too many dead young boys, when they could live to be excellent Reapers." mocked the Captain of squad 11, who himself gained the title by murder and wasn't at all a fan of going away from the ancient practices.

Indeed, it was captain Ukitake who constantly advocated for making the games more civil.

Underneath the seating area, Squad 4 was prepared for emergency treatment, while a few members of squad 12 toyed with a spiritual metronome measuring the strength of fighters in every encounter.

In fact, the prediction uttered by Kyoraku about Hebikuro's spiritual pressure at the very beginning was true. Hebikuro had a strong spiritual pressure, but it was steady, with little irregularities. Perhaps he wasn't challenged enough to show any signs of toil or excitement and the appearance of the next contestant didn't foreshadow any changes in that pattern.

A scrawny fellow entered the arena, with thin legs visible under a ragged silk kimono in the middle of February, a tarnished straw hat on his head.

"This is boring." complained Hiori.

"Hummm...nope... Not at all." though Yoruichi, who sat a few seats apart. "Yo, Kisuke! Wanna bet?" she addressed an untidy youth who was more interested in the scroll that Hiori just delivered, then the game grounds below.

He scratched his chin and said "I don't see anyone I could place my bet on."

"What? Don't you want to bet on the tall one?" teased Yoruichi.

Kisuke Urahara looked at her.

"Sure... How much?" It was a fishy proposal. The new guy didn't look or feel like a winner. Why would Yoruichi choose to bet on something so uncertain. Then he smiled in understanding. Of course, the less chances there were, the greater the fun.

"If the new guy wins, you, Kisuke Uruhara will have to buy me ramen whenever I request it. Buy it, bring it and split the chopsticks for me, that is."

"Do I understand that Captain will do the same if that Hebikuro guy wins?" asked Urahara.

"Of course, a bet is a bet."clarified Yoruichi.

"I don't get those two" murmured Hiori.

"They are probably still drunk from the New Year's partying, stubby. Now, shut up and be still." said Hirako, whose head was currently crushing Hioris back.

"You are the one drunk and what did you call me?"

Hiori fell silent, lifted her legs up and jumped up with all her might. Hirako lunched forward in a cloud of dust, his head scraping stone stadium seats.

From above came the voice of Lieutenant Sasakibe, who announced: " Duel 15, third time over, class A. Contestant Habikuro against Hokori."

Hebikuro smiled in a nasty way. He looked to the seats on his left. Hokori followed his gaze.

There he was, Ryukubo Genzai, sitting like the whole world belonged to him, a silver dragon expensively coiling on his kimono.

Next to him sat a disgruntled, but poised woman in a gray, almost penitentiary set of robes. Ryukubo's eyes widened and upper lip curled up a little, as if he was looking at a rotting fish head being swept away by the street cleaner.

Hokori's jaw clenched, not mentioning the fists.

Hebikuro spat on the ground: "Boy, you're in a sorry state." He could see the many small bruises that the matches from previous day left on the boy.

Hokori lifted the wooden sword.

Hebikuro launched forward.

Hokori dodged, but his straw head covering was swept away by the air current of his opponent's sword swing. Beneath it was a pale face, almost girlish and underage, with a blue bruise on the back of a clumsily shaved scalp.

"Is it over yet?" asked Mashiro. She closed her eyes the moment the big guy swung his sword.

"Hey, the little fly isn't that bad." said someone in the back.

Mashior peaked through her fingers.

On the arena the two struck and dodged in exchange. Hebikuro was tall and fused together, straight up meaty, but the short boy was fast and his thin arms seemed to be made of steel.

Hokori struck with fierceness but every hit fell on Hebikuro's sword. He was gapless. Suddenly, it seemed to Hokori's eyes that time has stopped, Habikuro withdrew his sword and Hokori's hit was cutting only across air. Somehow Hebikuro was there, just standing and smiling, as if saying: "Now lets start fighting for real"

The moment Hokori's sword landed in the sand, Habikuro's collided with the boy's side. Hokori flew away, rolling in the dirt.

"And this is why the tournament should have a weight limit." said Captain Ukitake.

"Like the wooden swords didn't spoil the fun enough." said Kenpachi.

"Take it easy, friend. The boy didn't stroll out there by accident. He signed the form himself and defeated other men on his way here. Besides he can withdraw any time he feels it's enough." added Kyoraku.

"As I said, yer regulations completely spoiled the fun." added Kenpachi standing up. It was enough for him, besides his own fists itched too much to just clobber one of those guys on the arena to the ground.

Then the crowd below inhaled loudly and the eyes of the Soul Reaper Captains were attracted back to the field below them.

Hokori was back on feet and charging full speed at his opponent, who looked quite undisturbed. In fact, Hebikuro was ready to strike and end it, one strong hit on the cranium would do it. As he prepared to receive another butterfly poke and return it thousandfold, the boy disappeared in front of his eyes. Hebikuro turned abruptly around, but was too late, a sword hit him across the head and face from above. He stumbled back, and Hokori was ready to strike again.

The attempts of the little flea annoyed Hebikuro. A little blood splattered down his nose and the stocky guy got slightly angry.

He swung around, saw another blow aiming at him and clobbered down the insolent twerp instead. He swung again, but Hokori dodged and rolled off back to his feet.

The boy was panting, clinging on to his ribcage, not stable on his feat. He understood that if this duel was to be his win, it will have to be fast, without further stalling.

Hebikuro flexed the muscles of his back, so that his spine threatened to erupt and slither away in a gesture of some scaly monster of old.

"You are done for." said Hebikuro.

The pain in Hokori's chest slowly became manageable. The young contestant took his sword, placed it before himself and began tracing a shallow circle around himself. It was almost a dance motion, a circle after a circle, a slow spin with every step. Then he stomped ahead on his high geta* and before the hit took a hold of his sword with both hands. Hebikuro wanted to block, but the force surprised him.

The fellow before him had at least two ribs cracked, but Hebikuro almost toppled over by the shear collision of their swords. Although he managed to maintain his posture, there was another hit waiting in store for him. One besandaled foot struck at his neck. Hebikuro bent backward and flipped back, but a pointed sword was already at his throat by then.

A voice from above asked: Is this a quit?

The answer was immediate, Hebikuro propelled off the ground, taking Hokori along with him and pinning his thin limbs to the ground.

The voice of Lieutenant Sasakibe asked again: Does one of the contestants forfeit?

Hokori couldn't breath, blood was pouring out of his mouth.

Squad 4 members emerged to separate the fighters. They pulled Hebikuro off. Hokori looked towards the stands, to the smiling face of Ryukubo, the straw hat that covered Hokori's head lay in the dirt.

The people around him wanted to pull him down, but he wouldn't lay it off

He jerked free, and slapped the hands away.

"I will win!" shouted the boy.

"This should be stopped" said Jushiro Ukitake, who quite frankly couldn't look at the thin neck of almost a child getting snapped in half.

Hokori's right hand was injured, but he could use his left even better. He kicked down his high geta sandals and an enormous lightness spread over Hokori's body. He was either dying, or winning.

He almost floated, he whirled his sword and danced forward. Hebikuri didn't know what hit him. A hit from the right, a hit from the left, he wanted to stop it, but the boy was too fast. When he thought he was grabbing that thin, miserable hand, Hokori was already above him. The sword locked under Hebikuro's chin and the mass of the man's body was hauled back, over Hokori's back. Strangled by his own weight. Hebikuro lay motionless. Hokori stumbled backward a couple of steps. He turned, the crowd was shouting and clapping, but Hokori longed only to see the face of Ryokubo. The noble sat stone faced.

Lieutenant Sasakibe announced: The winner is Hokori.

The young fighter lifted his sword and Squad 4 was on their way to patch him up. Hebikuro lay confused, he couldn't understand how was it possible that he lost. He took out from underneath his belt the short dagger that Ryukubo handed him the day before, "just in case" he said.

Hokori glimpsed at the movement in the back and lunched forward immediately. The knife split open the silk kimono over his back, Bakudo spells shot out to bind the men to the ground. But the fire inside Hokori erupted again, this time in an ugly, vengeful way. He aimed his sword directly at Hebikuro's heart, to pierce and tear it apart. The same Bakudo spells prevented him from venting his rage. For Hokori, from the very beginning, it was either all, or nothing.

Now, the damage was done, the silk slithered apart, the bandages underneath revealed the undoubted marks of a female.

Shunsui took out the lemongrass he was sucking on up till now, from his mouth.

Mashiro was dumbfounded for a while, but when the news sunk in, she started cheering as she never did before.

Hokori, the girl, covered up and was lead out of the arena.

* Hebi to Hokori (phon jap.) 蛇と誇り- eng. Snake and Pride.

Ref. Google translate:)

* Subeseishin- Freely created word collocation form phonetic pronunciation o japanese words meaning All (すべて phon.: Subete) Souls (精神 phon: Seishin)

I'm ashamed for butchering the language, but lets face it this Fan Fiction won't be valid by the time I learn it and I need to create names :P

* geta- japanese sandals.