Many years ago, in the heart of the Soul Society
Arashi groaned and flexed his aching wrist as he slid yet another sheet aside and piled it neatly with the rest, taking another piece and inking his brush. Before starting the next character, he stretched out on his back and rolled his neck, making it pop uncomfortably. As he winced and whined, he tried to turn it the other way to fix it, rolling his head from side to side. He felt it popped and crack painfully, slowly observing the entire room, but his eyes landed on something that hurt him worse than his stiff neck; the sword that lay against the wall. Arashi's heart stopped on the dark scabbard that seemed to hold his gaze. He glared at the thing, wanting to continue his writing but unable to concentrate on anything but the sword that rested against the wall. As he gazed, his ears began to sting as the sound of a bird crying began and got louder the longer he looked, finally giving him the strength to look away. And just as well, too, as Byakuya strode through the door to check on him. The boy dropped the brush, stood and bowed deeply, just as Byakuya had taught him, but the man said nothing. Arashi's face tensed as his lip wavered, his aching back feeling like it was about to break whilst Byakuya slipped a few papers from the top of the pile and checked them thoroughly, analysing the curve of each stroke.
"Adequate. For now." he said lazily, dismissing Arashi from the bow. "But you form still isn't perfected; the tips of these curved strokes curls too much."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kuchiki." the boy replied dully, as if he had apologised a thousand times before.
"And some ofthese centre strokes are far too heavy, I can see where the brush has been spread thin."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kuchiki." he repeated in the same monotone. Every day for the past three weeks, Arashi slept in the Kuchiki manor house for his 'tuition.' He slept in the guest room, which many of the servants and maids had been surprised at. Arashi found the room to be spacious, which he used broadly, as the real fact of the matter was that the room was simply bare. It was contained a small table, a futon and a sliding door that led to the gardens. Arashi couldn't complain, though. This was the best accommodation he had ever had, but he longed for his sister. Every day he would finish his tuition and instantly sprint off for Hanging Dog, meeting his friends in the market as the locals that once spat at the sight of the plume of white hair now crept away from the blue-trimmed kimono.
"No matter. You will simply have to do it again tomorrow." Byakuya's eye twitched in irritation when the boy's shoulders sagged. "You have no one to blame but yourself for this. You will continue to write until it is perfect. But enough of that, it is time for you to learn the ways of the Soul Reapers in earnest." Arashi sighed again and begrudgingly looked over to the katana.
"But Mr. Kuchiki, I have that sword now, isn't that enough? I don't like it, it-"
"Whether you like or not is irrelevant." he interrupted with his calm tone, "You told me that you wanted to become a Soul Reaper in order to protect your sister. How do you expect to protect her if you cannot even hold your sword?" Arashi just remained in an almost guilty silence, eyeing the black scabbard that seemed to draw in the light of the room. "Come, bring your zanbakto." Arashi snarled a little as he took the string that had been looped around the scabbard, allowing him to carry the large weapon on one shoulder. He toddled after Byakuya and managed to keep pace with him. Even though he had to nearly jog to keep pace with Byakuya's stride, the small boy kept his back straight and walked with pride, probably to mask his height compared to his elder.
"Now, I have organised a sparring partner for you today." explained Byakuya as they marched out of the manor grounds and to the barracks, the Soul Reapers they passed bowing to them. "I'll be leaving you with him for an hour whilst he teaches you the basics of kendo. If by the time I have returned you have not mastered the basic poses, we will train into you free time."
"Yes, Mr. Kuchiki." he replied with confidence, focusing his eyes for a target; there was no way he'd let anything interrupt his precious few hours away from the manor house, even if that meant using the... 'his' sword.
"There he is now. 3rd seat, present." Arashi eyed the man that approached them from across the flat yard and had to spin on the spot to make sure there was no mistake. This man couldn't be a Soul Reaper, not with that uniform! If Arashi had dressed like that or let his hair grow that long, Kuchiki would scold him raw! But this man's pale blonde hair hung messily and split on his nose and framed his face, his smile easy as he bowed to the nobleman captain.
"Captain Kuchiki, is this your protégé?" the man smiled down to Arashi, who stood and gawked at the man.
"I trust you'll teach him well? Do not hesitate to inflict punishment if he misbehaves. He needs to learn." The blonde man raised an eyebrow,
"Sounds like you certainly know how you want to raise the boy. But all of this discipline and honour, he'll turn out to be an uptight nobleman if you're not careful." Kuchiki's lip curled a little, but he said nothing, turning on his heel and marching off. Arashi gawped still and craned his neck to check Byakuya's distance.
"You know, 3rd Seat," Arashi started confidently, just like he had been taught, "You should show the captain more respect." He was pouting slightly, as if he was trying to leer but hadn't quite got the hang of it.
"Did Kuchiki tell you to say that?" Arashi's eyebrows raised and he didn't reply, Urahara assuming that he was right. "Well, so be it. So, if you're gonna learn and master these first few poses, I guess we better get to it, so we'll start of by warming up. Do you know how to conduct your own warm ups?" Arashi processed the request a few times before scuffing the floor with his boot.
"Well, Mr. Byakuya just sets the ground's dogs on me and makes me outrun them, if that's what you mean." Urahara looked down at the small boy and surveyed him; he couldn't see any bite marks, but that didn't stop the ache of pity that he was feeling. What was it Kuchiki was saying? He'd lose his free time if he hadn't learned his steps? Kisuke could see what a rough time the kid had, he couldn't allow his laziness to deprive the kid of that.
"Alright, so first we're gonna see how you naturally react to being attacked with a sword. Now draw yours and get ready." Arashi sighed and took the hilt of his sword, drawing it across his chest. He unsheathed it about a third of the way before his arm span came to an end. He growled and sat down, holding the hilt and trying to kick the scabbard off, but the sword still didn't come free. He yelled in frustration, threw the half-drawn sword on the floor and glared and Urahara with his fists curled.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he warned, but the boy seemed set and was even giving off a little spiritual pressure, "You know, I'll be swinging with a real zanbakto, it's gonna hurt a lot if you get hit." His frustration getting the better of him, Arashi charged and swung his fist, aiming for Urahara's side. Being the 3rd Seat of the Stealth Force, Urahara quickly reacted and hopped away, but he couldn't help but notice the strong wind that blew his kimono in the wake of the swing. Damn, this kid's something else. He kept Urahara on the back foot, forcing him to sway and even duck out of the constant stumbling punches. Strangely, the kid was giving off more and more pressure with every swing rather than tiring and giving off less, so Urahara decided to experiment. If this kid was so adamant to use only hand-to-hand combat, Urahara would test just how strong his arm was.
As Arashi brought a right-hook for his hip, Urahara swung out his left elbow to meet it. The punch collided and sent a powerful shock up his arm, making him grunt and roll to absorb the rest of the blow. That might have broken a man's arm. By now Arashi was swinging faster, his steps becoming lunges and his fist catching the material of the kimono and ripping it viciously. He was getting stronger and faster the longer he fought, Urahara had to stop him before he got too ahead of himself. Hopping beside a punch, Urahara lay a warning cut along the boy's forearm. Not too deep, just enough for him to know that it was time to stop.
Arashi gave a tiny gasp and stopped dead in his tracks, looking at his exposed arm with shock. The blood accumulated and a drip slithered onto his white hand, dripping slowly onto his training kimono.
"Now, that was interesting, but now we gotta-" Urahara didn't expect the movement, was totally unable to track it and utterly defenceless against it. The boy's speed and strength spiked and the boy hurled himself around, a feral left flying into Urahara's side and forcing the wind from him. His centre of gravity was struck and Urahara was launched across the dirt training yard, tumbling hard in the dirt. Taking a harsh gasp of breath, Urahara flicked himself back to his feet, just in time to avoid the flash of white hair and the raised fist. Arashi, over-balanced by the pace of his charge, tripped and slammed his fist into the hard ground, causing the dirt to fracture and explode into the air and dust to cover him. Urahara waited with baited breath, sword raised, waiting for the boy who lingered in the dust to emerge. As Urahara sensed the spiritual energy not moving, Arashi's presence grew slowly as the sound of grinding metal slowly screeched.
"Do you hear it, 3rd seat? Can you hear him crying? ... I can. He cries because you hurt me, and now he wants to hurt you." Urahara watched as the dust began to settle, revealing a silhouette in the swirling dust. The small torso and legs cloaked in the kimono, both bare arms connected to a sword as long as the boy's body. "He... He hesitates, 3rd seat. He doesn't want to hurt you, but he wants to protect me, and because of that," The silhouette raised the sword and swept it down, the wind bursting and roaring beneath the swing, clearing the dust and revealing the boy. Arashi's hair was billowing under the gale and his dark eyes seemed to gleam, "The two of us will kill you!"
Arashi lunged and the battle raged on. He charged, sword grinding on the floor in his wake before leaping into the air, the upwards swipe throwing Urahara's guard aside, leaving him open. Arashi flew into the air, raised his sword and roared as he fell back to his target, bringing his blade down viciously. Urahara staggered and raised his sword, his knees buckling under the strike. What the hell was with this kid? On and on they fought, Arashi's constant wild vertical swings tiring Urahara, breaking and punishing his blocks and straining his arms lest he be sliced in half, but something was different than before; Arashi's spiritual pressure and energy were still growing, but they were more unstable, more wild. Urahara had to test this, because if the kid was only going to get stronger, Urahara wouldn't be able to beat him down and he'd get taken apart. Utilising his flashstep, Urahara backed a long way off, leaving Arashi's comet-like strike to slice a groove into the courtyard. The boy glared at the floor where his target should have been and cast a look around, his dark gleaming eyes landing on the distant figure of Urahara.
"Come on, pip squeak, what's wrong? Sword to heavy for ya?" Urahara called. The boy took the bait, dragging his sword from the ground and racing to meet Urahara head on. The man laughed a little to himself as he raised his hand, directing his palm at the boy.
"Bakudō Number 1, Sai." And just like that, the boy was on the ground. Urahara stood for a second and stared at the boy on the floor, expecting him to get back up after stumbling, but the boy's arms remained firmly behind his back, his knees anchored to the floor. "Hey, kid? You okay?" Arashi's body shook with the effort of looking up,
"What did you do to me? Let go of my arms!" How strange; that boy got angry and was constantly getting stronger and faster the longer he fought. His punches nearly broke Urahara's arm and even with zero training on how to use a sword, his slashes carried extreme force that easily broke a third seat's defence and his running speed redoubled repeatedly , making him extremely agile. So how did it make sense for the lowest grade of binding kidō to be able to instantly restrain him?
"Enough." a voice calmly demanded. Urahara, still panting, turned and quickly bowed to his captain, whom had suddenly appeared. The captain slowly walked over to the boy who bucked and thrashed on the floor, trying to unlock his muscles and wrench his arms from his back. The captain kneeled beside him, "Calm down, little guy, the fight's over!" Arashi bared his teeth and looked up, about to hiss an insult in his adrenaline-fuelled anger, but his jaw quickly dropped, along with his head.
"I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't realise it was you. Please don't make me write any more." Arashi muttered to his knees, sighing as his arms came loose from the invisible grip. The captain cocked her head,
"Why would I make you write? I was going to say well done on knocking my 3rd seat around for so long." Yuroichi laughed and tussled the boy's hair, bringing a blush and a baffled look to his face.
"Oh... Thank you, Captain. Um, we weren't really fighting, we were... playing?" he ended uncertainly; he had gotten angry and had to prove to Mr. Kuchiki that he could fight, so he was trying to cut off the man's head. But this lady captain couldn't know that!
"What is the meaning of this?" Arashi jumped out of his skin and leapt to his feet with terror in his eyes, folding double with sword still in hand at the sudden appearance of Byakuya. "I thought I told you to learn from the third seat, yet you're not even holding your zanbakto properly."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kuchiki, I was just-"
"And you're addressing an upperclassmen and a captain with your weapon still drawn. Do you plan on attacking me?"
"But Mr. Kuchiki, I-"
"Have you learned nothing? Have all my efforts to teach you been in vain? Are you just an incompetent little brat or do you truly seek to bring dishonour to your peasant sister?" Byakuya waited for the apology with his chin held high, but nothing was said. The two captains and the officer looked down to the bowed boy, who started to tremble.
"Take that back." he whispered to the floor, going stiff.
"What did you just say to me? Do you realise who you're talking to-"
"TAKE IT BACK!" Arashi suddenly bellowed, gripping his sword and swinging it into Byakuya's face, the man recoiling against the sudden threat. The blade missed him by an inch, nearly slicing his jaw from his body.
"How... How dare you! I'll teach you some humility, you little swine!" Yuroichi and Urahara instantly jumped and started yelling at Byakuya, demanding that he stop, but the nobleman drew his sword regardless, trading stares with the seething boy. Urahara dodged around the pair and approached his captain, who stopped trying to call off the fight and listened to her officer. Urahara hurriedly explained the boy's exponential growth in power when in battle, finishing just as Byakuya made the first swing. He looked to make the boy fear him first, swinging and clashing with the boy's pathetic guard, knocking him from side to side like a doll.
Arashi grunted as his arms grew tired of the assault and he considered just surrendering, but he remembered what this man had said about his sister and felt strengthened. He felt his sword begin to hum and sing in his grip and a curious flow rushed through his hands, soothing his muscles and forcing them to jump. As the sword took control of Arashi's body and made its master dance, the two blades met solidly, Arashi performing a perfect block and stopping the pair in their tracks. As Byakuya's eyes widened in surprise, Arashi heard that strangely familiar screech in the depths of his mind and knew that he had to attack. He clutched the sword with both hands and stabbed forwards as hard as he could. Byakuya tried to retreat, the tip of the stabbing blade only just cutting into his torso. As Arashi was taken aback at his successful strike, Byakuya's lip curled and he raised the sword to his chest, preparing the boy for an execution.
High above, sitting comfortably in his chair, Yamamoto watched the one and only candidate of the Soul Society's survival successfully counter and attack a captain. Most interesting. Perhaps Kuchiki really had found the right person? Well, Yamamoto was feeling hopeful about the boy until Kuchiki released his zanbakto. Even from atop the balcony, Yamamoto could feel the boy's intimidation at the sudden bloom of pink petals. What would he do? Would he back down or try to fight a superior opponent?
"Head Captain, how should we proceed?" the lieutenant asked. Yamamoto considered the scene below, the rage of deadly blades against the Society's chance at victory. The old man sighed,
"We watch." he said simply.
Arashi flexed his shoulders, sweat dripping from his nose as the glaring man focused hard, the petals writhing like a Kraken behind him. The sword in Arashi's hand had known what to do, a power was running through him, he wielded the long blade as it were nothing and the strange voice willed him on, and yet he was still scared.
"What do I do?" he whimpered to the deep blue hilt. From the recesses of his mind, the bird called again. "I don't know what that means! Tell me, what do I do?" he cried, but the voice was silent. Arashi looked up and saw the petals beginning to tremble, eager to slice him apart. So what if that bird was getting on his nerves, he still felt strong, time seemed to be going slower still, why shouldn't he be able to kill this man? Taking a deep breath, Arashi threw his left shoulder forwards, hands on his right hip, tip of the blade touching the ground, and charged.
"It seems he's going to take his chances with the captain." the lieutenant commented with interested, leaning forwards to watch. Yamamoto's grip on the arm of his chair tightened and he hoped that Kuchiki would keep his composure. The little figure of white sprinted with shocking speed and leaped at the captain, blade ready to swipe up and cut him up the middle. Predictably, Kuchiki didn't even move a finger to command the petals to converge. The petals rose up and divided before combining into a funnel, rushing to meet the boy. Even from his seat high above, Yamamoto could see the two Stealth Force members wince as the pink engulfed the boy completely, the terrible, gentle rustle of leaves masking whatever noise he could be making. The seconds seemed like an eternity, Yamamoto lamenting each and every one of them. The boy had strange power, but this was ruthless.
Byakuya never saw it coming. Behind him, his zanbakto writhed and combined, rushing the snivelling little street rat that had attacked him. The petals engulfed the small form and Byakuya made last, wanting to hurt the child as much as he could without killing him. That's when the eyes appeared. It was easy to tell apart the vibrant, moving pink from the barely animate orbs of lilac. And following the dark eyes was the pale skin, glowing with fresh slashes of crimson. Next, the screaming mouth, open and bellowing a war cry that pounded into the captain's skull. Inevitably followed the slashed, tattered kimono, already stained in red, and finally the shining blade. In the fraction of a second he had to think about it, Byakuya labelled the figure a metre away from him; rage. As if the spirit of Kenpachi had been infused in this child. The boy twisted and his blade swung up from below, carving a cut all the way from Byakuya's left hip and grazing into his right collar bone. His attack complete, Arashi sailed over Byakuya and hit the floor without a sound, skidding on his knees to a stop.
Byakuya was in shock. The pain was bad, worse than it should have been. The open skin and cut bone burned, but it was as if a thousand wasps were attacking the wound. It burned and stung as if the boy's hatred was fused with the swing, but the nobleman kept his face beautifully straight. Yuroichi ran to the boy as Byakuya's sword sealed back into its form, pleased with its work. Kneeling on the warm flagstones of the courtyard, the boy trembled slightly, his wrist bent painfully to keep hold of the sword that dripped a captain's blood.
"Kid? Kid, are you alright?" Yuroichi called, not daring to touch any part of his body. The cuts were everywhere, weaving all over his torso, arms and face so that none of the kimono stayed together. The last few pieces of cloth fell from him as he shook, his eyes screwed tight shut. Strangely, she saw a small, dimly glowing amulet around his neck, the thin cord of string miraculously intact. Yuroichi felt a rush of hatred for Kuchiki; the cuts were not deep and next to no blood was being lost, but the boy must have been in agony.
"I... did it..." Arashi whispered before falling flat on his face, totally still. His sword clattered as it hit the stone, looking forlorn beside its wounded owner.
"Kisuke, get Unohana over here now!" Urahara nodded and his form blurred, the buzz of his flashstep stirring the boy. "Kid? Hey, can you hear me?"
"Leave him." Yuroichi had to refrain from slapping Byakuya, who loomed over her, "He deserves none of your pity. He must learn that what he does is wrong." Obviously knowing that she would retort, Byakuya turned and quickly walked away before she could get a word in. A petty, childish victory. Waiting for the calm medic captain to arrive, Yuroichi took hold of the hilt of the boy's zanbakto and gasped when a tiny static shock snapped at her. Strange, this blade had soul, it had power, but not like anything she had ever heard of. The longer she held the sword and waited in silence, the more worried she got; the sword was losing its will to fight her off, the perfect mirror of the strange boy's spiritual energy. The pressure was gone and now he was actually getting weaker?
"There's injured, Captain Shihōin?" Unohana almost sang from behind her as she arrived with Urahara, giving a little gasp as she laid eyes on Arashi. There was a clattering of rushing feet and several soldiers carefully lifted the boy onto a stretcher and rushed off in the direction of the squad 4 barracks, Yuroichi in pursuit with the kid's zanbakto. She'd be keeping a close eye on him from now on.
Urahara didn't doubt the ability of the fourth squad captain or her troops for a second. There was no one better than Unohana and her lieutenant, Isane Kotetsu, but that only made Urahara worry more.
"Well, his physical wounds are healing at a much slower rate than we're used to," Unohana said with a frown, "But what I'm concerned about is what this little boy did to make Captain Kuchiki hurt him like this." Arashi's cuts were slowing repairing, one by one, the skin stretching and closing the hundreds of slashes that laced across his chest. Urahara raised an eyebrow,
"This isn't any little boy, Captain. This little guy showed strength I've never seen someone so young ever show before. He proved to be quite the handful for me." Isane gave him a strange look and pursed her lips,
"You shouldn't make fun of him like that, 3rd seat Urahara, he can't help that he hasn't got any spiritual energy." A gentle tinkle interrupted the conversation and all eyes turned to the doorway. Yuroichi was standing with a zanbakto clicked out of its sheath, the slim woman examining it closely.
"There's no doubt about it, Lieutenant Kotetsu, this zanbakto carries traces of spiritual energy that match the boy's." Unohana watched the sword with a look of disapproval,
"That may be so, Captain, but I have been healing this boy for thirty minutes and-" The wooden building began to groan and a faint roar emitted from the boy, who started to shift on the bed. Isane gently placed her hands on his chest to keep him still and looked to her captain for instructions, but the boy started to writhe.
"Ow! Stings!" he grumbled, wincing and trying to throw the towering Isane off him, his sudden burst of pressure bending the building's support beams. "Where's Rukia? My head hurts!" he whined, his eyes starting to force open.
"I see he's awake." Everyone in the room jumped apart from Arashi. The two captains and their lieutenants turned and bowed to the sudden appearance of the head captain. "Excellent timing. Captain Unohana, is he recovering?"
"Well, sir, his physical wounds seem reluctant to heal but his spiritual energy seems to have... abandoned him for a time." Unohana finished unsurely. The old man nodded slowly, watching the boy tentatively run his fingers over his partially healed chest. As the boy started to clasp for the bed sheets and pull himself up, Unohana's eyes narrowed. She pointed to what looked like a claw on a string around his neck. "There is also this trinket, Captain. It seems... fused to the boy. Any attempt we made to lift it above his head was met with some kind of magnetic force, as if it didn't want to leave. Also... The further we heal him... I mean, I can't be sure, but the more spiritual energy he regains, the brighter this stone seems to be glowing." Yamamoto nodded again and ran a bony hand over his long beard, watching Arashi's eyes finally click open and stay open.
"Oh." was the only thing he squeaked tiredly before staggering out of bed and bending double in bow, falling forwards and hitting his knees with a small grunt. Yamamoto considered his next words carefully before laying his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Rai-chan, how did you do that?" Arashi looked up and Yamamoto could tell, from the intelligent flash in his dark eyes, that the boy knew exactly what he was talking about. Arashi stood on wobbly knees and set his face firm, clutching his pendant tightly.
"He said mean things about my Rukia. He called her a 'peasant' and made fun of us. I tried to kill him, sir." he added without breaking his momentum, looking Yamamoto dead in the eye, "He insulted her and I didn't care how much he hurt me, I just wanted to make sure he stopped breathing." The captains and lieutenants stood in shocked silence before the small boy and the head captain. Yamamoto sighed; every move this boy made, every word out of his mouth made him that much more perfect of a candidate for the task ahead. The old man took a deep breath and stood.
"Captain Shihōin, his sword." Yuroichi swiftly placed Arashi's zanbakto in its sheath and handed it to the head captain, who passed it to Arashi. "Your sister must be worried about you, Rai-chan. Shall we go and see her and show her what you can do?" Arashi's lip wobbled and he rubbed his neck unsurely.
"Um, sorry, Captain, but I kinda wanted to keep this whole thing away from my Ru-"
"But you wanted to be a Soul Reaper so you could protect her, right?" The persuasive, parental voice didn't suit the powerful, scowling old man at all, but Arashi seemed to be seeing something else, as he nodded obediently. Yamamoto took his lieutenant to one side and muttered discretely, "Lieutenant, fetch a kimono for this boy, find us in Hanging Dog as soon as possible and have the necessary paperwork ready. Captain Shihōin, find Captains Ukitake and Kyoraku and bring them with us. They're presence is needed." The Yuroichi and her 3rd seat nodded with a slightly baffled look and disappeared to the other barracks, leaving Unohana and Kotetsu standing forgotten. The head captain swept out of the room and headed for the outside, leaving a half-naked Arashi in silence with the two women. Something clicked in the boy's head and he realised that he had been healed by two genuine Soul Reapers, so he had to thank them the most sincere way he knew.
With the lightness of a sparrow, Arashi hopped onto the railings at the foot of his bed and leaned towards the two officers. He planted a light kiss on their cheeks and gave a quick 'thanks!' before hurrying after the head captain, leaving them blushing and bemused.
"Sweet boy." Unohana commented lightly, watching the silent doorway, "A little on the naive side, but a captain in the making." She hesitated for a moment and her towering lieutenant noticed all too easily. "But... I can't help but get the sense that Head Captain Yamamoto has something planned or him. I've never experienced such a strangely powerful and yet flawed body."
Rukia stood on a box in Hanging Dog market, her legs tired from standing on it for hours, but she refused to get down; Rai-chan would be along any second, she was sure of it. She had started to chew her nails in anxiety, what had happened? Was he hurt? Did he poke his eye out on something? That was probably it, that careless dummy was always walking into things. What if he never came back? What if they had decided to keep him there forever? What if that Soul Reaper with the ponytail that took him had decided to leave her in Hanging Dog and keep Arashi as his little brother? She couldn't allow that, never; Raiden was her true brother. It was so rare for the souls of relatives to ever find each other, but Rai had stayed with her through life, through the precipice and was not going to abandon her now.
She hopped down from her box, her temper burning at that Kuchiki guy. He had some nerve- A weight attached itself to her waist and she jumped, swatting at what she thought was a stray dog. When the creature backed off, she found that she had messed up Rai's hair to the point of it falling completely straight and covering his eyes.
"Hi to you too, Ru-chan." he mumbled, swiping his hands through his hair, trying to clear the static and failing. He sounded miserable. Rukia soon realised why. The street had grown quiet very quickly and Arashi's white and blue kimono was only half on, the rest exposing his pale skin that was weaved with hundreds of perfect thin cuts. His pendant was a little dimmer than it usually was, meaning he could have only been doing one thing. But that was not the end of the oddity. The cause of the silence was the hunched old man that loomed over her brother, his ancient face so full of wrinkles it made him look as if he was glaring through closed eyes. Surrounding him were other looming figures clothed in white, black and even a pink kimono, all looking at little Arashi expectantly.
"Um, this is her, sir. This is my sister, Rukia Arashi." Rukia searched her brother's face but he gave away nothing. The old hunched man was staring at her, as if trying to see into her very core. He was terrifying. A thin, sickly looking man with long white hair approached the old man and looked around with concern.
"Head Captain, this might be too much pressure for him with all of these people watching. He's only a child, after all."
"He has strength enough for this, Captain Ukitake. Do not underestimate him." The white haired man gave the back of Arashi's head a pitying look before back away again, setting the spotlight on the old man.
"Raiden, I want you to show you sister your shikai release." the old man ordered, "Go on. Prove to all of these captains that you are worthy of fighting for us and to your sister that you are worthy of protecting her." Rukia looked to her brother in confusion, who still had his eyes on the ground. He was already at shikai stage? When did he get his zanbakto, let alone have a chance to use it? Arashi sucked in a deep breath and sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, laying a scabbard that was far too big for him across his lap. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as the silent street watched with curiosity. After all, Soul Reapers rarely passed through Hanging dog, let alone several captains and lieutenants. Even more reason to watch when they were about to witness what a Soul Reaper look like when they found the name of their zanbakto.
Arashi waited a few moments before opening his eyes, feeling a little irritated at the lack of action, but he was satisfied when he opened his eyes and found himself in a very strange world indeed. Arashi stood facing a wind that threatened to tear him apart, dragging his hair from his face and jetting the locks of white behind him. He stood on a strangely solid-spongy cloud that hovered miles above a sprawling white and gold city that sparkled beside a deep blue ocean. Arashi looked around, hearing the rage of the sky trying to deafen him. Felt the strength of the wind sting at his face and threaten to pull him from the cloud and hurl him to the ground below. So much danger, so far from the ground. One wrong move and he would have a very long fall. He adored it. This was the sky, the great open realm that watched over him through all hard times in Hanging Dog, the great canopy of beauty that made him feel safe.
Suddenly, there was a sniffle and a whoosh behind him. He turned his back to the wind and found that the fluffy platforms behind him were streaked to one side, as if something small had just burst through them.
"Hello?" Arashi called, trying to peer through the cloud. There was another sniffle, yet no movement. "Hey, are you okay? I'm sorry if I upset you." He stuck out his hand in greeting, "My name's Raiden."
"I know." Arashi cocked his head at the timid voice that replied to him as a body rose from the cloud. It was another boy, a golden crown sitting on top of tight curly blonde hair, or was it a halo? A ring of floating white. He wore a white robe, showing his skinny arms. He didn't look at Arashi, holding his arms close and keeping his big blue eyes on the cloud beneath him. Arashi decided that he liked this guy. He was dressed funny.
"So, do you live up here in the clouds?" Arashi asked, taking a step forwards. The boy nodded,
"Yes, but it's quite cold sometimes. When it rains, it gets freezing up here, but I'm not allowed down there." He nodded to the utopia beneath them. Arashi furrowed his brow, taking another step closer,
"How come? You're dressed all funny and you look like one of those buildings, shouldn't you fit right in?" The boy in the robe laughed and raised his head a little, only just meeting Arashi's eye.
"Life's quite simple for you, isn't it? You rely on your sister to be the brains and you just throw your weight around when you need to." His gaze dropped a little and his face sank into sadness as he found the thin lines of the healed cuts. "I'm sorry, you know. I wasn't fast enough to stop you from getting hurt." He covered the distance between himself and Arashi and laid his hand on Arashi's chest, tracing the lines. Arashi didn't feel at all compelled to swat him away. In fact, the touch felt strangely familiar.
"Sorry, but we've only just met. How come you know about Ru-chan and my fight?" The boy's eyes began to water and a sad smile met Arashi's puzzled gaze,
"You really do need her don't you? You're so dumb sometimes." His body shook a little as his face contorted and he started to sob quietly. It was only when the boy inhaled did Arashi truly jump at the situation. Instead of a shaky, cracked breath, the boy in the robe made a shrieking sound that cut across the sky and made Arashi jump. The boy turned his tear-stained face to Arashi, "I'm your zanbakto." Arashi took a moment to consider this before smiling,
"Oh, that makes sense. So... can you tell me your name so I can show you to Rukia?" The boy turned to Arashi and his lips moved, but the wind suddenly got stronger and the voice was drowned by the breath of the sky. "What?" The boy shook his head and leaned over Arashi shoulder, shouting over the wind into his ear,
"You can't hear me because you aren't ready to use me. Once you can feel my presence and hear my cry, you'll be ready." He didn't give a word move explanation before a wave of cloud suddenly washed over them like a great tsunami, drowning Arashi's vision. The wind was strong and the moisture from the clouds stung his eyes, making it impossible to see. He clamped his eyes tightly shut and shouted as loud as he could,
"Hey, kid? Where are you? I need to get back to the old man, where did you go?" The wind was his only reply, and it was a loud one. What did that weirdo mean, 'when you hear my cry?' Arashi couldn't hear a thing! What if he was trapped here? What if he would be forever lost, wandering the clouds above the white-gold utopia. Somewhere far off, a screech echoed. Arashi froze and turned to the sound, "Hello?" A few seconds of silence made him think that he was losing his mind. Arashi considered walking in one direction until he was out of the clouds, but something made him think that these clouds would never end. "Alright... I know what you want me to do. I'll play the game, if you really want me to." Arashi was always the winner in arm-wrestling contests, but that didn't have much etiquette. What he really took pride in was hide-and-seek, a game he won at relentlessly.
He had tried to explain his method of winning to Rukia before, but she hadn't got it. All he had to do was stay as still as possible, not moving a muscle. Then he stopped breathing, making sure that his lungs and heart were as quiet as possible. Then he just listened and everything seemed much louder than it had done before. He could tell what was going on all around him, eavesdrop on conversations from five streets away, listen the vendors of Hanging Dog market extort their buyers. But what was really useful was being able to hear the ragged breathing, tiny movements and even the thumping heart of the other kids who tried to hide.
"That's right," the boy's voice suddenly spoke to him through the wind, "But you wouldn't have won without me. That was me who helped you win, by the way. There's no way a soul could hear that well."
"Where are you? I can't tell!" Arashi bellowed, barely hearing his own voice, yet perfectly understanding the boy's shaking voice in the back of his head.
"You were doing fine a second ago. Go on, reach out to me with your soul. Once you can use my ears, you'll hear my voice." Arashi was starting to shiver as the clouds soaked his bare skin, but he tried his best to make his entire body still. He felt his sense of hearing heighten and he forgot everything else. He forgot what the inside of his eyelids looked like, he forgot the icy biting of the vapour around him. All he felt was the harsh thud of pain as the roar of the wind damaged his ear drums. But there was something else, an echoing sound. The crying of a bird of prey. The boy, Arashi's zanbakto, was somewhere to his left. With eyes still closed, Arashi turned and strode confidently towards the noise. For minutes on end, he waded through the numbing vapour and felt his head pound, but he pushed on, all the time getting closer to the harsh screech in the maze of swirls.
Finally, he came to a tiny clearing of cloud and found the strange boy sitting and hugging his knees, his bowed head shaking gently as he sobbed quietly. He raised his head and took a breath, the screeching as loud as ever. Arashi coughed hard, the moisture in his lungs making his chest tighten. The boy sniffled and wiped his eyes, standing to meet the young Soul Reaper.
"You found me. You listened for my voice and you found me." His wobbly smile appeared again and he brushed at his eyes again. "Well, Raiden, my name is Raisō, the 'Lightning Talon.'" The boy tilted his head in thought, "Raiden... The god of thunder. Arashi, the storm." He gave a little giggle and held out his hand, "The God of the Thunder Storm and his Lightning Talon." Arashi shook the boy's hand. He felt whole, as if something that was lost had returned to him. Arashi pouted in thought and looked Raisō in his watery eyes.
"But, isn't there something I have to say to make you, you know, fight?" Raisō smiled and nodded. He swished away some of the clouds and pointed down to the utopian city below with a sudden, solemn look.
"Gaze upon perfection, my Master Raiden, for it is fleeting. The creatures below have brought sin to paradise and darkness upon the inhabitants. Even the most beautiful beings have become twisted and corrupt and the only refuge," Raisō held out his arms, "Is here, far away. It needs to be destroyed, Master. We need to clear the infection, destroy the darkness before it has a chance to spread." Raisō walked to the edge of the cloud, removed his crown, threw it to Arashi and waited. "Command me, Raiden. You know how." Arashi held the golden crown in his hand thoughtfully before pointing to the domed building far below. There they were, tiny black dots spilling out like locusts, covering the white-gold city. They had to be stopped.
It may have been the sake talking, but Shunsui could swear that the kid's zanbakto was starting to glow. Even from within its scabbard, light was forcing through.
"This is it," Yuroichi, starting to smile, "He's got it!" Still in the trance of his mind, Arashi stood with eyes closed and threw his sword from its scabbard high into the air, catching it with ease. He took a deep breath, holding the blade tightly with both hands before his dark eyes burst into life,
"Now, Raisō! Raze the Heavens!" he screamed. Everyone around grunted and shielded their eyes, the light of the world dying away in the face of the bright white-blue blade that began shining. As eight fins grinded into existence from the katana, Yamamoto could almost hear a bird screeching. The civilians all jumped in unison as the light began to die down, revealing the glowing blade and the hovering ring of energy that had replaced the guard. Arashi's eyes opened and a smile down on his illuminated face. He brought the biting blade close to his face and ran his fingers along the flat edge, sending sparks flying as if his skin were made of stone. His smile grew wider as a harsh snap cracked from his boot and an arc of white-blue electricity darted over his skin and disappeared just as fast. He began to laugh, slowly swaying the blade from side to side, loosing sparks and arcs at every sudden movement, like a faulty power pylon with a sword.
"Raiden Arashi." Yamamoto boomed, summoning the streets attention. The boy turned, his smile illuminated by Raisō, "You have reached the level of shikai without training, proving that you have talents that far exceed that of a normal Soul Reaper in training. Therefore, as Head Captain, I am promoting you to the position of 7th Seat Officer of 6th Squad under the command of Captain Byakuya Kuchiki. You will be tutored by the unit, training officers and captains from now on until you have mastered all of the lessons you have missed by bypassing Soul Reaper Academy. Is this clear?" Raiden nodded, grinning as the 1st Squad lieutenant, whose arm was still bandaged, handed him a folded black kimono and some papers. "Welcome to the Soul Reapers, Officer Arashi."