In the darkness, Ichigo feels her disappear.

Rukia has become adept at this, reining in her spiritual pressure, shutting it down so that he can no longer sense her. Of course, he has some idea of where she is, in the pitch dark. If she's playing by the rules, and with Rukia you never can tell, then she's on the far side of the room, waiting. That's her starting position. It's a very elaborate game of Grandmother's Footsteps.

Now, he too closes down his reiatsu so that she'll not be able to sense him. For the two of them, it's like fighting blind. It makes sense though. There'll be times when both of them will have to face opponents whose spiritual pressures are unreadable, and it's a very easy thing to get lazy and forget how important the other senses are too: touch, hearing. That's what this training tests.

The aim is to be the first to land a blow. Doesn't matter how; doesn't matter where. The floor is made out of plain wood and uguisubari, floorboards that squeak if you so much as touch them. Each has a different note; the cadences tell your opponent where you are. The challenge is in avoiding them while trying to find your partner.

"Get on with it!" Rukia calls from the side of the room: "I'm not meant to be able to sense you, am I?"

"How – how can you? I already sealed my reiatsu."

"Seal it more!"

"You're too sensitive!" Dead silence. "I mean spiritually!" He concentrates on reeling in the last of his stray energy. He can barely feel it. How the hell could she sense that? And now he pushes on through the strange silence in his mind to see if he can sense just a whisper of hers. It would be nice to throw the reprimand back. But he can't. There's nothing. Just a glaring absence that makes him wish she would speak again.

"That's better," she says: "You could learn a little more discipline."

"Yessir," he mutters. She hates that. Just a little reminder. You're not my vice-captain. You might have some other guys who are willing to take orders from you, but not me. We're past that.

"Ichigo, get on with it."

"Okay!"

They start. It's the first time Ichigo's tried this. She's the expert, but how hard can it be? He just has to listen, wait for her to make a sound. Just wait.

Her bokken slams into him from the side and he sprawls onto the uguisubari. They let out a series of musical squeaks and chirrups, complaining at his sudden, clumsy weight. They sound like colours in the darkness. As does her sigh.

She's behind him. She's crossed the length of the room without making a sound. "How did you know where I was?" he demands: "I haven't even moved!"

"Right, Genius."

"Oh." He picks himself up, the floor continuing to squeak brightly. And, when he's standing back at his starting-point, he runs one hand across his ribs. They feel tender. Did she get stronger? "That was a fluke," he says: "Consider it a dry run."

"Whatever."

She's moved again. Damn it! Completely silent. Back to her starting position: "Go!" she calls.

This time, he doesn't wait for her to come to him. He concentrates instead on avoiding the uguisubari. Right up until he misjudges and his left heel comes down on something which makes a sound like malicious birdsong. Great. He's already lost. He doesn't need the reminder delivered in the form of a heavy blow across his shoulder blades. He hits the singing deck on his knees:

"Oi, Rukia! That could have been my head!"

"Only if I'd aimed for it," she says. This time, she lets her feet play out a melody over the floorboards as she approaches him. He's rubbing some feeling back into his upper spine and, suddenly, her hand is in his hair. A chill races down the very part he's been rubbing. It's the briefest touch. She sounds amused as she passes him. "Seems your skull's intact to me."

"That's not the point!"

"Did I hit you too hard?"

"No!" Well, kind of, but he'll go to hell before he'll admit that. It's just….. Well, he's not used to being beaten. And certainly not by Rukia.

"Want to go again?"

"Have we started?" he says, hoping that the sound of his footfalls doesn't give away the fact that he's aching as he walks: "I'm just testing out how this works."

"Good for you. Figured it out yet?"

"Try me!"

"Go!"

This time, there is silence. Just darkness and silence. And no-one within the silences. Extraordinary, how reliant he's become on her spiritual pressure. It's disorientating not to feel her. So few senses remain. It's almost as if he's fallen asleep and is wandering aimlessly in a dream where the colours have gone. Where she is gone. And then, as if in answer to his prayers, she slips up. One of the uguisubari squeaks.

He springs towards the spot. He can picture himself pouncing, bokken raised. And then the picture is shattered as something strikes him from the side. Once more, he smashes down onto the chirping, groaning floorboards, which only just cover his own groan of disbelief and pain.

"I win," she says. Simple. Clipped. As she walks back to the starting point. It's going to be humiliating if she has to carry him out of here. He coughs a few times and rechecks his ribcage:

"You really, really hate me today."

She chuckles in the darkness. "You're getting careless though, Rukia. I heard you that time."

"What makes you think I didn't want you to hear?"

"Well" –

"You weren't giving yourself away. I needed to get you into a position where I knew where you were. After that it was easy. I figured you'd give yourself away if you thought you could cathc me." She's smiling. He can hear it in her words. She's really enjoying this. "Hey, Ichigo, your reiatsu is leaking again."

"Cut me some slack. I've got more to seal off than you have!"

He probably shouldn't have said that because she doesn't answer, but there's a couple of chirps from the floorboards at her end of the room. He really, really hopes he hasn't given her a motive to hit him even harder.

"Hey, Ichigo!"

"Yeah?"

"Go!"

They start like last time. That long silence. Then she tempts him again, making the uguisubari sing, off to his left. He doesn't bite. This time, he waits it out until he thinks she's close, then he reaches out with the bokken and touches one of the boards a little distance from him. It makes a sweet sound.

She doesn't come at once. She's cautious. More cautious than he was. But he's started to listen for her breathing now, knowing that she's capable of moving in otherwise complete silence. She's close.

He swings. Shunpo! She uses shunpo! It stirs the air around her and that's a disadvantage; it means he can track her. But, of course, she knows where he is now. He steps into shunpo too

They've both lost the benefit of silence and it's not long before she starts zigzagging to throw him off. Her footfalls make the boards squeak as she passes. Soon, they're playing a tag, back and forth across the room. Faster and faster. More and more breathless. The whole of the darkness filled with the sounds of their passage.

At some point, one of them will tire. It's become pointless. There's no stealth in this. It's just a question of who can be the first to….. And she's slowed. Stopped. Why did she stop?

He barrels into her so fast that she lets out a sound not so different from the squeal of the floorboards they've been dancing across. And all at once, they've both struck the noisy wood and there's an instant of utter confusion. He lands up….. well, sort of, on her. Not crushing her exactly. She could probably wriggle away, except she's breathing so hard he gets the impression that any extraneous movement might be hard. He's panting too. He's sustained shunpo for longer before now, but it's easier over distances, usually in straight lines; not zigzagging in a room that'a barely larger than his father's lounge. She moans and suddenly he's worried. He wanted so badly to best her that he forgot how much stronger he really was:

"Are you alright?"

"It's meant to be testing your awareness. Not whether you can catch me," she complains. She rolls over and, all at once, he realises how close they are. He can feel her breath on his face and her knee digging into one of his already-bruised ribs. Her breathing slows, but remains tense, like she's waiting for something.

"Rukia" –

"Hm?"

"Why – why did you choose this training?"

"Your reiatsu," she says, so softly that it's almost a whisper: "You're right. You're so much stronger. It's nice to be better at something. Sometimes." It's the truth, he knows.

Maybe, he thinks, it's time he told her the truth too.

But she gets there before him: "Ichigo" – And her hand is in his hair again, drawing him towards her, so that his weight is no longer on her. No longer pinning her down. He's leaning over, his face inches from his own. And she's released her reiatsu again, so that he can feel her, fully and completely. She shifts beneath him: "There's something I need to tell you….."

"Yeah….."

"I still beat you."

In moving, he has released her forearm.

Her bokken is resting soundly against the side of his skull. She taps him gently. Once. Twice. A few more times.

Just til it gets annoying.

"Ow. Rukia. Ow. Ouch. Stoppit." She's grinning. He can't see it, but he senses it through her reiatsu. It feels like the lightest of touches going up and down his spine.

"You wanna go again?" she asks, still smiling. She can't see, but he rolls his eyes as he pushes back from her and stands up, the floorboards squeaking as much as his limbs are creaking. But she doesn't need to know that:

"I'm not going to be beaten by a girl!"

Part of him thinks he probably will be though. Every time.

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