Paradox of Nihilism
A/N: Okay, so I kind of lied. This won't be an Omake chapter, because it has lots of action and quite a bit of story transitions. However, the action is mostly for the enjoyment of your lovable author(ess). Also, holy shit this is a fucking long chapter!
Sakanade
The contest of the zanpakuto spirits, to be held inside a stadium being constructed in Urahara's underground room, was this Friday night. Or, rather, one hour from now. Even her brother had entered, claiming that his spirit had finally agreed to reveal herself on this one occasion, name and all.
As Misao ran out the door to meet her brother and the other Visoreds, she scanned the day's mail until she came upon two envelopes in the back of the stack. She paused inside the front doorway to tear these two open with her long fingernails. Her eyes passed over the contents of each. Misao's smile grew larger and larger with every word on those austere pages. Nearly grinning, she stuffed the papers into her purse, snatched Shojohime from the floor by her feet, and slammed the door behind her as she did.
"Isn't this a tad...drastic?" Shojohime ventured quietly.
"I thought you wanted the chance to fight. You and I don't get much real action." Misao's brow was furrowed in consternation.
"Not that. I haven't changed my mind at all about that. I meant the letters, Misao."
"Oh." She rubbed the scar on her neck thoughtfully. "Does it bother you? I never did ask your opinion one way or the other, did I? Do you have a problem with it, Shojohime?"
"It does not bother me. I was just inquiring as to whether or not this contents of those letters truly provides you with that much happiness." her zanpakuto said. "Whether you'd really thought all of this through yet."
"This is what I really want, Shojohime. I wouldn't have done it otherwise."
"Your brother..." she began hesitantly.
"Is a big boy who can take care of himself. Besides, most of his free time is spent with Hinamori-san now anyway," she added bitterly, clenching her fists.
"You and Shoka have two separate lives, not one joined life. He needs to start living his life before it ends, Misao." Shojohime said gently.
Misao forced her posture to relax as she approached the same block the Urahara Shoten was located on. "Yeah, I know. That's part of the reason I did this, Shojohime. While he's off living that fabulous life, I'm stuck here waiting for him to direct mine. I don't want that anymore. I can't just sit here and wonder when he's going to notice if I'm around or not."
Shojohime privately wondered if they were still really talking about her brother, but let the matter drop.
Misao slid open the door of the Urahara Shoten and was greeted by the proprietor himself. "Come down to the underground room!" he said, waving her down the staircase in the floor. "Has your zanpakuto agreed to manifest itself for this wondrous event?"
"She has," Misao said firmly, hand briefly touching Shojohime's peach-colored hilt wrap. "Are you participating in the contest, Urahara-san?"
"Heavens no!" he said with his most charming smile, waving that fan at her again. "Me, a humble shopkeeper? Compete against the Gotei's illustrious shinigami?"
She gave him a flat stare, totally unconvinced. Lisa had already warned her that people who didn't seem like big threats were usually the biggest threats of all. As they walked downstairs, the new arrangements for this contest became clear to her. It was magnificent, and it should be, because Hachi and Tessai had worked the whole week to make it that way. A large stadium rose before them. With gates opening to two sides. Gate A for the human world, and Gate B for the spirit world. Urahara led her through the A Gate. They seemed to be on the bottom level. "Go down that hallway," he instructed her, pointing where he meant. "There's a door marked with your name down that way – according to my papers, you're number seventeen. Manifest your zanpakuto in that room and leave her there."
She bowed to him politely and turned down the corridor. Luckily, the first door she found was number sixteen ("Abarai Renji") and, true to his word, number seventeen was Shiori Misao. Urahara was still waiting for her at the entrance of Gate A, smiling as usual. "Go through to the inner arena. You have a seat in the first row. I'm sure your friends are waiting for you, Shiori-kun."
"Arigato, Urahara-san."
He only winked. "If you need anything, I'll be selling concessions at this gate."
Misao was astonished by just how many people were in the stadium. Rows and rows of people in the black shihakusho, with a few smatterings of people in the white captain's haori. Very few people were wearing anything outside of those variations – Misao herself being one of them. Another was a particular man in an orange dress shirt waving to her. "Here, Misao-chan!" Shinji called. Her uncle Shuhei smiled slightly in the seat two spaces over. "We saved a seat fer ya!"
She sat between them. The excitement and bloodlust of the crowd was heavy inside her – not like a weight. More like a weightlessness. "How did you get a seat in the front?"
Shinji grinned at her. "The front row is reserved for people whose zanpakuto are competing."
"So Kazeshini and Sakanade are both going to be here?" She felt a shock of excitement go down her spine.
Shuhei nodded. "And we get to meet the legendary Shojohime."
"Hey, Love says yer right next ta him," Shinji said, pointing down below them. In the arena below them were twenty-two doors all numbered with names embossed in gold above them. She was surprised to recognize more than a few. Number seventeen was Shojohime, number eighteen was Tengumaru, twenty-two was Kinshara, three was Haguro Tonbo, six was Kubikiri Orochi, eleven was Kazeshini, thirteen was Tachikaze, and fifteen was Sakanade. Two very large screen were set up above the posted gates, allowing them a close view of the participants in the contest.
"When does it start?"
"Twelve minutes," Shuhei said, pointing to a large clock which counted down the time. "Your brother is on the other side of the stadium." He waved from his seat and a familiar head of red-brown hair stood up and waved back.
They waited idly, Shinji explaining how this was going to work. "They're gonna attach microphones to their collars so we can hear them."
"But...shouldn't their master be able to hear what they're thinking?"
"Yeah, but that don't do the rest of us much good, does it?" he responded dryly.
"Doesn't that put everyone on a bit of a tactical disadvantage?" she asked, slightly alarmed.
"Nope." Shinji smirked. "They can hear what the zanpakuto says – but not what we say. And we're the ones who give the orders, Misao. A zanpakuto who tries to fight without listening to their master is as good as defeated out here."
"Thirty seconds." Shuhei reminded them quietly.
As the clock approached closer to it's final number, the crowd started to chant along with it. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. ZERO!"
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I am your host Shihoin Yoruichi!" A familiar voice rang through the stadium. If Misao looked closely, she could see the caramel-skinned woman in the front row near Gate B, holding the audience's attention from the announcing platform. "Our honorable judges are Fourth Division's Unohana-taicho, Eighth Division's Kyoraku-taicho, and Eleven Division's Ukitake-taicho. In the event that there is a tie, they will decide the winner. Participants must defeat their opponent in the span of thirty minutes, Bankai is prohibited until Round Four and attempting to kill an opponent is absolutely forbidden. Anyone who tries to do so will be disqualified, and as we have Zaraki-taicho standing in for this event's head of security force, I strongly advise against that course of action. The winners of Round One get to advance to Round Two. The losers...get nothing, because they lost. Now, let's see who our first participants will be!"
Another board generated names too fast for her to see. It finally stopped on a name she didn't actually recognize.
Zangetsu
"I didn't know that name." Misao murmured, turning her head towards Shinji.
"Zangetsu is the zanpakuto of Ichigo," he said lowly.
Zangetsu's name above the door glowed and the door swung, admitting the entrance of a middle-aged man with dark hair, wearing dark shades and a black robe that floated around his body. He was holding what looked like a meat cleaver the size of his entire body.
The name generator started up again for Zangetsu's opponent, stopping at yet another name Misao didn't recognize.
Engetsu
"I don't believe it," Shinji whispered. "I don't believe it! Engetsu is the weapon of Isshin – Ichigo's father! I didn't know his power had returned enough to do something like this."
Engetsu wore slate-gray robes and his dirty blond hair was lank around his features. His expression was somewhat cold.
"Participants!" Yoruichi called from the hosting box. "Begin!"
Without even requiring his release command, Engetsu turned the plain katana he held into a great silver crescent scythe. He and Zangetsu raised their weapons at the same time, and their lips formed the same words.
"GETSUGA-
-TENSHO!"
Misao inhaled sharply as the blue attack swept through the arena with insanely intense force. I'm so glad Kurosaki-san wasn't armed with Zangetsu when I saw him. I wouldn't have stood a chance.
They struggled through most of the half hour without any indication of who might gain the upper hand. Neither of them said a word the whole time. But then Engetsu's defense was getting weaker, his attacks losing their force. "He's outta practice," Shinji said dismissively. "Old man ain't lost any of his power, but Isshin's been out of commission way longer than Ichigo."
Zangetsu pushed harder and beat Engetsu with five seconds left on the clock. "Match!" Yoruichi called. "To Kurosaki Ichigo's Zangetsu."
The audience cheered and then the generator started up again, spinning through names wildly.
Suzumebachi
A tiny, golden pixie-like entity zipped about the stadium faster than an insect. "Suzumebachi belongs to the Second Division captain, Soifon-taicho. I don't envy the zanpakuto who fights her."
Shinji shook his head. "Rank of the master is absolutely no indication of victory. It's all dependent on the zanpakuto's abilities – their strengths and weakness."
The screen flashed the next name on it's electronic board.
Kazeshini
Shuhei's face went very pale as he abruptly stood up, clutching the metal rail shielding the audience. This door didn't open – it shattered and a gray whirlwind swirled up the sand of the arena's packed floor. High-pitched laughter traveled from the microphone attached to Kazeshini to the stadium's speakers, grinding against their ears.
Kazeshini was blackish-red all over, his hair and skin mottled like some demonic marble, with icy blue eyes lacking any pupils or sclera.
"Participants – begin!"
"Do not cause her serious injury unless you must," Shuhei instructed in a low voice.
Kazeshini chuckled menacingly. "Here's what I don't think ya understand, pardner – you don't call the shots." The screen showed his large, feral grin. "I do. And I'm gonna rip this little bee apart!"
"Kazeshini, do NOT-"
"Shuddup!" his zanpakuto snarled. "I'll just cripple her a bit, so sit yer sissy ass down! Kare! Reap!"
The release command gave him a pair of what looked like double-sided sickles, attached together by a chain and the end of each. She could truly see why her uncle feared this crazed spirit. She squeezed his tense forearm and he laid a hand on top of hers, anxiously squeezing back.
Suzumebachi chortled in her tiny throat. "Jinteki shakusetsu – sting all enemies to death!"
Suzumebachi was insanely fast – but so were Kazeshini's blades. The little pixie-girl wasn't fast enough to dodge two blades at ones. Kazeshini defeated her and crowed for more. "Match! To Hisagi Shuhei's Kazeshini!"
Haineko
She grinned and bounced her large chest at the cheering audience members, cat's tail swishing. Out of her stiff auburn hair, two cat ears protruded. She bowed theatrically to the crowd, clearly adoring the attention of the cheering fans.
Wabisuke
A few in the crowd chuckled, thinking that Wabisuke looked just as morose as his owner. Black hair hung in front of a mournful face. The thin body was weighed down by chains and a heavy block. Several rows away from them, a grim-faced blond man groaned. Among all of the contestants, Haineko and Senbonzakura were the worst Wabisuke could possibly face.
"Participants – begin!"
"Omote o agero – raise your head." the miserable-looking man intoned.
"Unare!" the catgirl called. "Growl!"
Misao had to feel at least a little sorry for Wabisuke's owner, despite the crowd's joy. The fight was over so fast it was almost humiliating. Haineko didn't even get a scratch on her. "Match! To Matsumoto Rangiku's Haineko!"
Tobiume
Next to Shoka, Momo clapped her hands excitedly. "That's her!" she sighed happily. "That's my Tobiume!"
Tobiume looked remarkably like her mistress, especially compared to the other spirit's they had seen. Brown-eyes, and brown hair too, long and cut with straight bangs across her brow. She was dressed very traditionally – a long kimono in pastel colors and an unusual decoration in her hair. The only thing that seemed out of place was the long pink ribbon hovering around her shoulders. A large gold bell hung from each end of the ribbon.
Sakanade
Her breath caught as she realized this was what she's been waiting months to see.
He – it was most certainly a man – was quite possibly the most visually interesting person she's ever seen. Her eyes were fixed to the stadium screen as her brain tried to figure out what the fuck she was seeing.
His hair was midnight black with bangs that fell into his eyes. The rest was arranged into haphazard spikes, some of which were tinted bright magenta. His right eye was dark brown, but dead and hollow as a void – more like a stone than an eye. His left eye swirled blue and silver, as though it were filled with some slowly morphing liquid rather than an iris. Tight, dark blue jeans that looked soft as butter were plastered to his thin hips and his shirt was lilac with a series of rounded designs in magenta, pink, and navy.
This kind of color scheme could lead one to conclude that Sakanade had slightly effete leanings, except that he turned his head to the screen and smiled directly at her in a way that made her feel like her favorite dress was melting off her body. Through the microphone attached to his collar, she heard his drawling murmur of "Mi-saoooo-chaaaaan."
Her eyes widened as her panties suddenly became damp. She had to close her eyes against the sight of him before she embarrassed herself in public. There was a tongue ring inside his mouth just like the one in Shinji's.
"Participants – begin!"
In the microphone, Sakanade's slightly grating, low voice said "Whaddya want me ta do, Shinji?"
Misao glanced over at Shinji, who wasn't even looking into the arena. He was completely relaxed, slouching in his seat with his eyes closed. "Finish her off quickly. She won't take you long. No blood. And don't frighten her," he added as an afterthought. "Just disarm her."
Sakanade smirked. "I can do that."
Tobiume narrowed her dark eyes suspiciously. "Hajike - snap!" she cried, pulling out a katana with jutte-like prongs from her long sleeves. "If you won't come, I will."
The blade glowed as she swung and a ball of flame hurled from the katana's length. Sakanade calm drew his unreleased form and held it drawn in front of his face. Flames crashed harmlessly against the steel. He didn't even blink. Tobiume scowled and whirled around, the bells at the end of her ribbon throwing more balls of flame. Sakanade didn't even bother deflecting. He simply dodged and then laughed at her. "My turn!" he cooed. "Taorero. Collapse."
Misao had never seen Shinji's shikai. After that night, she was very glad she'd never seen it.
Sakanade didn't even have to hold onto the strange sword that was himself. The hilt had become a circle which orbited without effort around his wrist, the blade traveling in lazy circles. The straight edged zanpakuto had become white and, strangely enough, there were five holes along its length. And was something wrong with her eyesight or was Sakanade surrounded by a pink mist?
Shinji chuckled. "It's not yer eyes."
She jerked her head away from the arena. "Nani?"
"Ya were squintin', so I thought ya were prolly thinkin' yer eyes have gone bad. But that ain't it," he said with a grin. "Just watch."
Tobiume threw another of those great fireballs. It was so wide it was almost painful. Sakanade laughed, clearly entertained by this. "Where are ya aimin'?"
He rushed at her and Tobiume didn't do anything to move away. Sakanade slashed, ripping open her right sleeve. She looked around herself wildly, looking confused. "Don't try ta figure it out," he said, lips twitching with amusement. "Ya won't guess."
He lunged at her again, this time from behind and she actually moved into him, stepping backwards. In a millisecond, Sakanade stepped on the troublesome ribbon, snatched the jutte-pronged katana from her hands, and held her wrists behind her back.
"Match! To Hirako Shinji's Sakanade."
"What did he do to her?" Misao demanded irately. "He had her floundering down there like a fish in the grass. What did he do?"
"I can't tell ya – Shojohime may have ta fight Sakanade later."
"More the fool he is," Shojohime whispered to Misao. "I am already quite familiar with Sakanade's devious tricks. Don't worry about it."
Hiyori's zanpakuto, Kubikiri Orochi struggled with another called 'Zabimaru'. Their time on the clock finally ran out and the judges declared Kubikiri Orochi the winner at last. The second Visored victory was Tachikaze beating a strange creature called Ashizogi Jizo. Then the seventh pair was announced.
Shojohime
Shinji sat up alertly. Misao could not have been prouder of her beautiful zanpakuto at that moment. Shojohime stepped out on her tall white heels with grace and nobility that fit her name. For once, Shinji was utterly speechless. As always when she was feeling particularly strong, her pale blue eyes glittered like the diamonds on her nails. Pearls wrapped around her white throat and trailed down from her long, pale pink ponytails. The silver and golden lotus-shaped crown atop her head gleamed in the perpetual sunlight of the underground stadium. She calmly folded her arms across her well-formed chest and waited for her opponent to appear.
Tsumehira
A woman dressed in black buckskin and wolf-gray fur stepped onto the packed sand, her deeply golden eyes sweeping the stadium. A wild mane of curling cobalt hair framed her pale, harsh face. She smiled coldly, revealing a set of sharp yellowing teeth. Her dark boots made no sound against the packed earth flooring.
"Nice to see you, 'Hime." Her voice was low and throaty.
"I'm amazed he let you off your leash." Shojohime's voice was a sharp contrast with Tsumehira's – high and bell-like.
"Participants – begin!"
"Misao," she said softly. "This is your brother's zanpakuto. What do you want me to do?"
And Misao answered just as softly "Crush her, Shojohime."
Shinji was staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time in his life.
"Very well." Shojohime answered steadily.
On the other side of the stadium, Shoka was throwing the mother of all fucking fits. "Withdraw," he commanded out loud in a harsh whisper. "For fuck's sake, Tsumehira, withdraw! That's my sister's zanpakuto!"
Tsumehira never responded.
Shojohime stood at the stadium center calmly. Tsumehira circled her like a hungry wolf, and she was a dying animal. She gave a yellowed grin and shot her hands out. "Himei," she growled, grabbing a pair of black-handled sai that suddenly appeared. "Scream."
"Tansoku," Shojohime said, holding an empty hand toward the floor. The white-bladed shortsword was in her hand. "Sigh."
Tsumehira lunged, her hands blurring she wielded the sai so quickly. Shojohime had no trouble keeping up. "Smile. Smile." Her blade moved so fast she was able to peel off two attacks with only one sweep. "Smile."
Tsumehira ducked under the barrage and lunged forward again, stabbing. A scratch appeared on Shojohime's upper thigh. She turned and whirled, sweeping out a kick with those white heels that punched a hole in Tsumehira's stomach. She added a punch to the face with the hilt of her white blade that sent her into an arena wall. "You are weak," she said, keeping her words carefully measured. "And you are weak because you are disobedient, Tsume. Come to me at full strength or don't come at all. Smile."
"Match! To Shiori Misao's Shojohime."
A zanpakuto called Senbonzakura flattened Tengumaru and Rose's Kinshara was beaten by an ice-dragon named Hyorinmaru. Lisa's Haguro Tonbo was defeated by Hozukimaru, rounding out the last of the Visoreds. The last match in Round One was Gegetsuburi versus Sode no Shirayuki. Sode no Shirayuki was the only zanpakuto, in Misao's humble opinion, that could have possibly hoped to compete with Shojohime in terms of looks.
"Match! To Kuchiki Rukia's Sode no Shirayuki." Yoruichi finally called. "Intermission!"
Round Two began with Sakanade thoroughly kicking Kubikiri Orochi's ass (resulting in much screaming and swearing from Hiyori). Senbonzakura beat Hozukimaru and Hyorinmaru beat Kazeshini. Surprisingly, Sode no Shirayuki was able to overpower Tachikaze. Not surprising was Haineko being finished off by Shojohime in less than ten minutes. She just got too cocky. Zangetsu had received the 'automatic entry' for this round, which meant he didn't have to fight and was automatically in Round Three.
Zangetsu
Hyorinmaru
This was another fight that nearly took the full thirty, but in the end, Hyorinmaru fell to Zangetsu.
Senbonzakura
Sode no Shirayuki
The crowd was whispering furiously around them. "What are they all whispering about?" Misao asked, looking up at the stands above them. Her stomach churned in an unpleasant way. "They're all so eager and bloodthirsty."
"Participants – begin!"
"Mai." Sode no Shirayuki said immediately, pulling her white katana from thin air. "Dance."
The audience held their breath as Senbonzakura drew his blade and pointed it toward the ground. Was he doing Bankai? Bankai was forbidden in this round.
The blade landed in the packed sand, tip sunken into the soft earth. His voice was quiet, but they all still heard him. "I forfeit."
Gasps and more whispering. "Why did he do that?" Misao said in amazement. "He's good – he could have mopped the floor with her!"
"Senbonzakura belongs to Kuchiki Byakuya," Shuhei said quietly. "And Sode no Shirayuki belongs to Kuchiki Rukia – his lieutenant and little sister."
"Byakuya Kuchiki wouldn't let anything harm Rukia an' by extension, Sode no Shirayuki – even his own zanpakuto." Shinji snorted. "He would accept the shame of quittin' before lettin' Senbonzakura draw his sword against her."
Sakanade
Shojohime
Shinji smiled weakly and Misao just blinked back. "Participants – begin!"
"I think by now you know that Sakasama no Sekai won't work on me, Sakanade."
"I'm sure ya know the same is true fer Virgin's Cleansing." He gestured to his lack of black or white apparel. "An' Smile is child's play ta me."
They faced each other on the blood-spattered sand. "What – I don't get no hug?" Sakanade cracked a grin. "After all these years, ya don't even say hello?"
Shojohime stared at him dispassionately. "I want you to know that I utterly despise you." Her words were even and barely above a whisper, but with those microphones, they heard every word. "And the only thing keeping me from killing you is the thought of Misao going to prison."
The tension in the air was thicker than ever as they began circling each other. "Now we both know ya don't mean that," he said, inching slightly closer. "Ya could've let Shinji die, but ya didn't."
"I didn't say I hated your master. I said I hate you," she countered viciously, trying to stab him through the heart. "If I hated your master, I would have simply cut him in two and told Misao he died because his soul was tainted."
Misao's face was now paper white and Sakanade's face had lost all of it's good humor. "It's nice ta see that some things don't change," he said, dodging out of the way. "Even after all these years, yer still a vainglorious, frigid bitch."
"Careful, Sakanade. Don't hurt yourself," she said coldly. "You're starting to use words far too big for your intelligence level."
"I think we established a long time ago that my intelligence level is above average." Like Shinji, he could apparently drop that manner of speaking at will. "For example, I know that you being this angry with me makes you an idiot."
"Don't you ever speak to me like a child," she said lowly.
"But you're still a little girl," he said smirking and raising his eyes to her mistress in the stands. "See? A cute, innocent little girl."
Even through the excitement of the crowd, Misao's head threatened to be completely consumed by the incredible amount of rage Shojohime was producing. "Don't look at her! You don't go near her! You don't even think about her!" she snarled. "Everything you touch dies!"
He stopped and stared at her with such a look of surprised horror that it was almost painful. That gave her the perfect opening – which is how she stabbed him through the shoulder. Sakanade was sent to his knees by the force of her pushing the blade through his shoulder and then pulling it out.
"Naze?" he gasped. "Why would you do that to me, 'Hime?"
"Because I can," she replied simply.
He narrowed his eyes at her. And then grabbed both knees and shoved her to the sand. "Don't play with me, little girl," he said harshly, pinning her legs beneath him. "You don't have the kind of strength to take me on – not yet."
She spat in his face and headbutted him, the lotus crown gouging his face so that he'd back off of her. She flash-stepped behind him and used that hilt-punching maneuver to get him back in the sand. "I hate you," she hissed, grinding his face into the dirt, making Sakanade cough on blood and sand. "I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!"
He turned slightly and elbowed her in the ribs. The entire crowd – including Misao and Shinji – gasped as the sound of Shojohime's ribs breaking was audible. She gasped and Sakanade caught her before she could roll into the dirt. He snatched the microphones off of their collar and the fans cringed as he crushed them beneath his palm. He leaned toward her ear, turning his face into her neck so that the cameras couldn't catch the movements of his lips. Whatever he said made Shojohime's fingers drop her katana in surprise.
That surprise allowed Sakanade to pick up his weapon and he drove it into her back, out her stomach, into his own stomach and right through his own back. And as they both collapsed together, Sakanade grinned and sighed "Gotcha."