"What's with you recently?"

Arata looked up from the street they were walking down. "Huh?"

"You've been quiet, but not in a mopey kind of way. You start dating someone?"

Arata didn't see any reason to lie, especially if it was that obvious. "Yes."

"How long?"

"A few weeks. We met at the spring ceremony."

Isuma clapped him on the back. "You sleezy dog," he smirked, "way to multitask."

"That wasn't what I was intending when I went," Arata mumbled. He was glad Isuma wasn't asking questions. It wasn't that Arata was going to hide Tomio, but he hadn't told anyone yet, not even his father, and he should be the first to know.

They had arrived at their destination. The training ground was empty, but the ground was scuffed, there were little flecks of blood that trailed away from the center. Captain Kuchiki was standing in the middle, Lt. off to the side, and a smaller, more indistinct man standing on the other side, probably form the fourth.

"All right," Isuma huffed, pushing him forward. "Good luck. Don't die."

"Thanks," Arata said. He stepped towards the captain, until they were a few feet away. He bowed low in greeting, but it was not returned.

"Raise your sword," he ordered. Arata took a few steps back, their swords sang in unison as they were drawn together.

Captain Kuchiki didn't waste a moment. There was a brief twitch to the right that gave him the warning he needed. His block came just in time.

His speed is incredible, flew across his mind instantly alongside, I can't believe he's holding back. He had to be, there was no way Arata would be able to keep up.

The flurry of movement was never ending, Arata was only able to defend, but he held his ground and stayed out of the sharp blade's reach.

There was a pause in the onslaught, and Arata stabbed at an opening. It was deflected instantly, the force throwing him back. Expecting to be attacked, he used the momentum to roll away. When he righted himself, the Captain still stood where he'd been. Arata took advantage of the break and held his blade out. "Shift, Kisetsu no Utsurikaewari!"

The spark of light covered his movement as he flashed stepped forward to strike.

It was much easier to keep up with the Captain's attacks, and he was given more opportunities to retaliate. The long shaft of the spear was perfect for blocking this fighting style, but he had to make sure he didn't he hit his hands, and to make the shift between attacking and defending as seamless as possible.

Captain Kuchiki stabbed at his side. Arata knocked it away in a sweeping block, hard enough to shove his arm out of the way, revealing his side. Arata fainted an attack, and when the Captain made to defend, he changed his angle in an instant, and struck at his face.

The blow landed. Captain Kuchiki staggered back, his eyes closing foe a moment, and Arata tried to follow up. The next attack was quickly deflected, even when he couldn't see. The shock froze Arata for a second too long.

"Scatter, Senbonsakura."

Oh, shit.

The sword dissolved in front of his eyes, the pink petals flying off in an invisible wind. They gathered together and flung Arata's way, the razor edges slicing into his skin. He tried to regain his footing, but they just kept coming. I'm going to have to freeze these. He twirled his spear up and around himself, catching most of the petals. He heard the tittle of them falling to the ground. The few left retreated, defending against Arata's next volley.

The sting of the petals pressed into the back of his mind, while he focused on getting the rest out of the way. Captain Kuchiki was careful to keep blades of Arata's spear, away from the petals. He defended attacks with his hilt and sweeps in with his floating razor petals.

Arata heard a crackling behind him. Instantly recognizing it, he did not move out of the way in time. The cloud of blades flew over him with a force that knocked him off his feet, the impact lighting his back on fire. His eyes blinked for a second, his grip loosened…

There was a fluttering all around him, like a thousand butterflies. He opened his eyes. The petals were gathered in a tight circle around his neck. If he moved an inch in any direction, his throat would be shredded.

The Captain stood over him, his cool eyes staring down at him impassively, the true embodiment of a death god. He could kill me in an instant.

"Why do you fight?"

The question caught him off guard, but he knew the answer. "To protect people from the hollows."

"Even those you hate?"

Arata took a few moments to think about this. The unfriendly nobles flashed into his mind, Orochi, Councilor Asami, the men that attacked Ricky and Juan. Of course he didn't like them, but the result of a hollow attack was oblivion, crushing the soul into nothing. The idea of eternal blackness, and unthinking void was terrifying, unfathomable, and Arata would not wish that on anyone. "Even those I hate," he responded honestly.

The petals fluttered away, solidifying back into his sword. The Captain sheathed it calmly, turning his back without a second glance. "You're dismissed."

Arata heard quick, light footsteps coming towards him, so he didn't bother moving. A young man came into his view, and he instantly started puttering around and examining him. The adrenaline was beginning to fade and a soreness was setting in. He realized the wounds were strategically placed. His wrists and lower torso were untouched, as well as any other weak points, but virtually everywhere else was stinging with needle like pain, and a warm, sticky pool of blood was starting to form under him. He's so precise with his shikai.

"I'm not allowed to heal all of these," the boy informed him, "but if all of these remain open you'll end up unconscious." Arata nodded his understanding. The boy rolled up his sleeves, the cloth in tatters, revealing the scarlet paper-thin cuts trailing up his arm. The healing energy glowed around the medic's hands, flowing across Arata's skin like cool refreshing water. He rolled over when instructed and he fixed the ones on his back. He left his legs and chest.

When the healer was done, Arata staggered to his feet, instantly dreading the long trek back to his room. I'd rather have healthy legs than arms right now, he thought, though I suspect that this is intentional. The mousy boy tried to help him, but Arata waved him off. "Thank you for your help, but I'll have to make it back on my own." He took his first hesitant steps forward, passing the captain and the lieutenant on his way out.

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The lieutenant watched as the kid limped off the training field. "I've never seen you go that fast on a grunt before."

Captain Kuchiki shot him a sideways glare. "He was merely lucky."

"Ha! No one is lucky for twenty minutes! Admit it he was way faster than you thought, and you had to go into shikai to keep up with him!"

"That will be enough," the captain snapped, the genuine anger silenced him immediately. Captain Kuchiki stared off after the speck of white. This just means I'll have to make an extra report to the General.

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Arata's journey back to the barracks was long, but tolerable. The thought of the empty communal baths and hot water kept him going. If I get back and rest, I'll be able to make it to Tomio's. The soreness of his muscles became the prominent motivator, so much so that he couldn't feel his cuts anymore.

He stopped by his room to grab a robe and fudoshi before heading to the baths. The night shift was still sleeping, and people off duty were scattered across the districts by now. The barracks were a dead zone.

The bathrooms were pristine, the pale blue tiles always glowed. The perks of having a rich captain. The five individual tubs were sectioned off across from the showers and sinks. It wasn't often he got to use the tubs, and never had he been alone. He stripped as the hot water poured in, steam quickly filling the cubical. Thinking the water would sting his wounds, he closed his eyes and plunged in, wishing to get it over with quickly. The only sensation he was given though, was the slight burn of the water. A shock ran up his spine at the absence of pain. The steam and the bubbles blocked his view, so he stood up to stare down at his clear chest.

His healed legs.

He blinked, trying to understand what he was looking at. He pulled his leg up for closer inspection. There had obviously been wounds, there were thin gaps in his leg hair, but the skin had seamlessly knit itself back together, it wasn't even irritated anymore.

It hasn't even been an hour! he thought, I should have these for at least a day! He traced a thumb over the smooth skin. It isn't possible the medic healed me without my noticing. So what is this? It's not possible!

It has happened, so it is obviously possible, Hondr's voice boomed inside his mind.

Is this your doing? Arata asked.

We did nothing, this is something else.

Me? But I've never healed this fast before.

It is not you, it is something else.

Arata groaned. I hate it when you talk like this. What is it?

We have never known what it was, was the stoic reply.

If it is there, then how do you not know whatever this is? Is it good? Bad? Is it part of me or something invading my reiatsu?

We do not know, because you do not know.

Well, a lot of good you are! Arata snapped.

Arata could almost see Hondr bristle. I did not hear you complaining when I was defending you against the Captain!

Arata held his breath for seven seconds, then let it out slowly. You're right. I'm sorry, Hondr.

I know.

Arata sank further into the tub, trying to relax the knot in his stomach. Curiosity started to burn in his heart, but at the moment it was being overshadowed by his eyes drooping in weariness. He dragged himself out of the water, barely making to his bed before he collapsed. The last effort he put into consciousness was setting an alarm, so he could see Tomio tonight.