Thanks to "Guest" for reviewing the last update. Hopefully after this one, I'll hear back from some of the 'regulars'.
TO FORGE A
BETTER TOMORROW
Chapter XLV: "The Wielder"
Living Realm, Karakura...
Mashiba – Residential District...
"Between school, my part-time job at Unagiya, and everything that's been going on here with you..." Ichigo started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I gotta say... I've been pretty busy lately."
Darkwood had just hung his dark black three-quarter length jacket in the entryway of the house, as he turned to approach the teenager. "Is it a problem, Ichigo?" He asked.
Ichigo shook his head. "No, it's just... it's been so long, since I lost my powers..." He confessed, sitting down in a chair in the living room. "Right after it all happened... there were months where nothing was going on my life... I'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel, you know, busy."
The other man nodded, leaning against the hearth around the fireplace. "It's understandable, this is no small commitment, after all." Darkwood replied. "And, throughout all of this, you've been remarkably dedicated to staying the course with me." He continued.
"Even so," he continued, taking a seat across from him. "By now, I expect that you must be wondering when we're going to get into the more practical- more hands-on- aspects of Manifest."
Again, the young man nodded. "I was... beginning to wonder."
Darkwood smiled at this. "Given what you've undergone, I believe you're ready." He revealed, folding his hands across his lap. "You've shown a real aptitude for the Ways of Manifest, and I'm now confident you're ready to begin learning how to effectively utilize it."
"However," he continued. "I must caution you, Ichigo, that this is not something that can be learned over night- nor in a matter of weeks, or months." Darkwood went on. "From here on out, this is going to take a great deal of time and dedication... And you must accept this fact- this pact, that you've made with yourself- if you are to gain true understanding of the Ways of Manifest."
Ichigo rubbed his chin. "You know..." He began. "I don't know how else to say this... But hearing you talk about the 'Ways of Manifest'..." The teen paused, choosing his words. "The more you talk about it, the more it's starts sounding... well, you make it sound almost... religious."
"I can see how you'd the make that connection." Darkwood replied. "However, it's not a religion- not exactly- rather, it's a way of being." The man continued. "If it is a religion, then it's only a religion in the same sense that Feng-Shui or Confucianism is a religion." He offered.
Noting the lingering uncertainty in the teen, Darkwood pushed on. "If it helps, think of Manifest as a philosophy- a method to finding truth, the truth." He continued. "Remember, that Siddhartha did not seek to proselytize, but to bring enlightenment- to free mankind from darkness. It's the same for those of us who follow the teachings of Manifest. We desire only the salvation of our fellow man."
Ichigo didn't respond. "Tell me something," Darkwood began frankly. "These religious connotation, as you see them," he leaned forward a bit as he spoke. "Do they trouble you?"
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
Shop Urahara...
The former Shinigami-turned-shopkeeper smiled at the sight before him...
It was Tatsuki Arisawa. Urahara was familiar with the girl- mainly as a result of her mutual friendship with both Ichigo Kurosaki and Orihime Inoue. At the moment, she looked uneasy, her posture slightly stiff as she stood before him, in his office situated at the back of the shop.
"Well then," he started, his tone friendly and sociable. "First off, please, do sit down." Urahara went on, gesturing her take to the chair in front of his desk. "Now, how may I help you?"
Tatsuki's spiky black hair had grown out, with the bangs noticeably longer, and the rest nearly reaching down to her waist in back- held in a ponytail with a red scrunchy. "Right..." The young woman spoke, trying to relax as he sat down. "The thing is, I'm tired of being... well, dead weight."
The girl was dressed in a loose white and blue striped t-shirt, cutoff denim shorts that stopped an inch or two above her knees, and a pair of of fairly new-looking white and black sneakers. There was a thin silver chain visible around her neck, but it dipped behind the collar of her shirt.
She cast her gaze back up, looking him intently in the eyes. "I'm not naive, and I know I'll never be as strong as some of the others you've helped." Tatsuki admitted. "But even still, I can't help but have this sense... that I'm capable of something more- more than what I am now."
He regarded her for a moment, his hat casting a shadow over his gray eyes. "I may ask, just how long have you felt this way?" Urahara inquired, while adjusting the brim of his hat.
"For a while now." The dark-haired teen answered. "I know how to handle myself in a fight, how to take down and incapacitate a person, single-handed. And yet," Tatsuki paused, glancing to her lap, then back at him. "All it took was a swipe of a hand from that Wandenreich bitch, and I was almost killed."
"Well..." Urahara started. "The crushing reiatsu of an Arrancar, or a lightning-infused blast of reiki isn't exactly what I would call a mere 'swipe of a hand'." He offered diplomatically.
"But the end result is the same." Tatsuki replied. "When Kuchiki-san was in danger, my friends were out risking their lives, while... while I was stuck here, useless!" She exclaimed. "I've been standing in the background long enough, I'm fed up with being just a... a piece of decoration."
"Honestly, when that bitch zapped me with that lighting bolt," she continued. "That was pretty much the last straw... at least, as far as I was concerned." Tatsuki explained to him. "I have to change." The dark-haired teen declared emphatically, the emotion reflected in her eyes.
Urahara became quiet at this, rubbing his chin. The man, with his scruffy face and mop of dirty blonde hair, who always seemed so inscrutable, nodded. "Perhaps... I can help you."
"Thanks." The young woman replied after a moment, with a genuine smile.
"After all, Arisawa-san," Urahara continued, grinning deviously. "This wouldn't be the first time that I've had a hand in helping you optimize your powers."
She sighed, though her smile remained. "Sure, but just so you know, I've put my days as 'Karakura-Raizer Beast' behind me." Tatsuki remarked. "And while I wouldn't mind learning how do something like the 'Deadly Magnum', you're not getting me into that costume again."
"Fair enough!" Urahara replied with a chuckle.
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
Ichigo's eyes widened slightly. "I... I don't know." The teen admitted after a moment, seemingly taken aback at having the question turned back upon him. "I guess... I hadn't really thought about it."
"Let me ask you something else- a personal question- if you would indulge me." Darkwood countered, as he eased back in his chair. "What religion are you?" He asked, earning a surprised look from the teen sitting across from him. "I, myself, am a christian, but I also strongly identify with Buddhism."
"You don't have to answer." Darkwood continued, smiling. "But given your background- your race and nationality, culture, the society you grew up in- I'd think that it wouldn't be an unreasonable assumption that you were likely raised Shinto, or perhaps Zen Buddhist." He asserted. "So, when you encountered the Shinigami and their reality, it conformed to your own cultural and societal expectations."
"Well, yeah, I suppose." Ichigo answered. "But, just what exactly are you getting at?"
He smirked at this. "That your expectations were affirmed." Darkwood replied. "But what if you had expected something different, what then?" The man asked. "What I'm 'getting at', is that we can't help but bring our own cultural and societal expectations and biases with us, nor the fact that they're almost certainly guaranteed to influence us- if even unconsciously- on some level."
"Now, look at your situation." Darkwood continued pointedly. "Tell me, where do the Hollows fit in?"
"What do you mean 'fit in'?" Ichigo asked. "They're mon-" He stopped, mentally reprimanding himself for almost making such a statement, since his own experience- chiefly with Nell and her two Fraccions- had taught him that Hollows were not simple a race of monsters.
"...Why are you bringing them up?" The teen asked.
"Because they illustrate the point I want you to understand." Darkwood answered. "To say that they're 'unlike anything you've ever seen' would be an understatement... And yet, there are clear presidencies to offer a context for them. After all, the Preta realm in Buddhism is described as one of 'Restless Spirits and Hungry Ghosts'." He pointed out. "Surely now, that sound familiar?"
Ichigo didn't respond, but the look on his face indicated that he'd struck a cord with him, prompting the bearded man to continue. "And then there's the fact that the function of the Shinigami- as 'Death Gods'- is similar to the christian Angel of Death... Or, ironically, the 'Grim Reaper', who is Death."
"But what's your point?" Ichigo asked, somewhat wearily. "How does this all tie together?"
Darkwood exhaled. "You perceive religious connotations, but why do you see them? And more to the point, why was this something that might concern you?" He countered. "The reason I pointed out these parallels isn't because they're part of the same belief system, but rather, because they are proof of the interconnectedness of our different beliefs... That what I believe is no more or less valid than what you believe, the same as how no single life is any more or less valuable than another."
"Equal..." Ichigo reasoned. "Different, but unique... and just as important."
"Precisely." He replied. "As you'll learn, there is no one single 'truth', it is subjective to the beliefs of the individual." Darkwood answered, smiling. "Now, to get back to the real point of everything we've been talking about, the essence of the force to connect us and all things, is Manifest."
"And so," he continued, standing up. "If you're still feeling interested, I feel that now would be as good a time as any for us to begin your training." Darkwood offered the young man.
"R-right." Ichigo replied, getting to his feat. "Lead the way, then." He continued, before following the other man out the den, into the depths of the house...
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
Soul Society, Division Twelve HQ...
Inside a secured room within the Twelfth, Szayel Grantz and Ikaku Madarame quietly watched as a series of wooden crates were delivered. Both the Arrancar Captain of the Twelfth and the Third-Seat Officer of the Eleventh had been awaiting the arrival of these 'parcels'.
Once delivered, the boxes (36"x18"x12") were deposited neatly upon a sturdy-looking table located near the middle of the large, well-let room. The two officers were eager to get at the contents contained inside, and so they wasted little time in setting about the rectangular wooden crates- each of them with a crowbar in hand- working to pry the lids off of them to reveal just what lay within...
Inside the crates, packed snugly with straw, were multiple swords- of varying styles- neatly laid out for all to see. The first contained two swords: a full-length Katana (the blade was approximately 30 inches, with a 10 inch handle), and a matching Wakizashi (the shorter blade was approximately 18 inches, and the handle 8 inches in length). Both sported polished black scabbards with gold markings, and black-and-gold lace wrapping. Ikaku appeared to take note of something...
"These are a paired set, for a specific style." Ikaku began. "It's called Daishō... It means to fight with a long-sword in one hand and a short-sword in the other." He explained. "It's one of the more demanding sword disciplines- both physically and mentally- so not everyone bothers to learn it."
"Yes, I can imagine." Szayel replied with a nod. "Since setting up here, over a year and a half ago, I've only ever observed that Captain Kyoraku carries a paired set like this."
They moved on to the second crate, which contained three weapons: The first was an unusual Katana, with a notably longer blade and a handle that looked to be about 16 inches long. The sheath was a dark cherry-red color with a lacquer finish, with dark red lace wrapping. The other two swords in the crate were much smaller: The smallest was only 18 inches in total, with an almost non-existent hand-guard. While the other featured a straight blade (about 20 inches in length) and handle.
No sooner had the pink-haired Arrancar looked to the Shinigami standing next to him, did the man speak up once more. "The bigger one appears to be in a variant of a type of sword meant for use while riding on horseback. Note the longer curved blade, and the longer handle- which would rest against the under-side of the forearm- meant to make it easier for a person to effectively wield it one-handed."
"The one with the straight blade is a 'Ninjato'... Supposedly an assassin's sword, reputedly designed to be wielded underhanded, and built for quick stabbing, rather than slicing or cutting." Ikaku continued in a steady tone. "As for the small one... It's a Tantō. Some warriors carried them, but their small size made them particularly popular with criminals, because they're easy to conceal."
"And that's their only use?" Szayel asked with a smirk.
Ikaku nodded. "Yes, well, they're also commonly used in... ritualistic suicide."
"Well then," Szayel spoke. "That brings us to the third and final batch." The Octavio announced with a smile as he gestured to the other man to follow him over to the final crate...
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
The Ukitake Estate...
Retsu Ukitake, wife of Jushiro Ukitake, later 'elevated' to the lofty position of 'Matriarch' of the entire Ukitake Family (following the news of her pregnancy). The dark-haired woman was also the Captain of the Fourth Division and Chief of the Medical Corps, though she was presently away on sabbatical from her Command- as part of her maternity leave- for the next six weeks.
She finished closing the front of her kimono, as Mitsuki carefully held little Kiyoshiro- the month-old babe having quieted down after being fed. At Retsu's silent prompting, she returned the newborn to her waiting arms. Mitsuki, an elegant woman in her own right- with long dark hair (in a "princess cut") and sharp brown eyes- had been assigned to Retsu as her personal attendant.
And as such, Mitsuki was never far away from the new mother, always in earshot of her- when she wasn't directly in her mistress's presence. The stoic woman, sporting the ruffled apron and headband of a maid, maintained a calm neutral expression as the scene played out.
Along with the two Shinigami women, Lillynette Gingerback was also present. The young Arrancar was sitting with her legs folded to the side. Her yellow-green hair had grown out a bit, reaching down past her collar. But this wasn't the only change in the adolescent female Arrancar that Retsu had noted, especially since she'd first observed the change in both the girl's attire and attitude.
Retsu smiled warmly, seeing the look of excitement in the face of the young Arrancar as she gazed at the infant cradled in her arms. Since Kiyoshiro's birth, the small female half of the Primera Espada had seemingly made it a point of never being too far from the Shinigami woman and her child.
And as a result, both Lillynette and Stark (not that the former gave him much choice) were a constant protective presence around the Ukitake household.
"I can't wait until lil' Kiyo-chan gets a bit older..." Lillynette exclaimed excitedly, sitting cross-legged on her cushion, in the tatami-mat room. "I mean, when he's up and scrambling around this place..." The young Arrancar went on. "Then, I can be a proper big sis to him."
"Lilly-chan," The serene, dark-haired woman spoke. "Tell me, how are you doing these days?"
Mitsuki, clad in her simple traditional full-length kimono, covertly looked to the Arrancar.
Lillynette blushed. Part of the reason for this was because of her admiration for the older woman, such that she secretly relished any praise and attention she received from her. But also, because Retsu always seemed to be able to cut to the heart of things- to get at whatever was bothering her.
For a moment, silence fell between them as Lillynette hesitated. But was soon broken by the sound of Mitsuki pouring her a cup of tea, prompting her to speak up. "To be honest... For a while now, I've been feeling... well, I've been feeling... kinda frustrated."
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
"As I'm sure you've surmised, there was another purpose to the meditative exercises you underwent." Darkwood explained to the young man, the two of them sitting on the carpeted floor of a small room. "They weren't just about introspection and self-discovery." The man revealed. "In truth, they were also providing clarity, and helping you to find your 'center'- in other words, your point of balance."
"Remember what I said about Manifest- that it is the force that binds all things." He continued, his hands resting on the knees of his folded legs. "You simply need to clear your mind. The energy of the cosmos is all around us... it's all just a matter of perceiving it." Darkwood instructed.
Ichigo nodded, watching as the man placed an unlit candle- set within a silver holder- on the low table situated between them. "Now, focus..." Darkwood intoned. "Seek out the constituent energies that will become the flame on the end of the wick... relax, let it come to you."
"Huh?" Ichigo murmured under his breath, his brown eyes widening slightly as he began to see a faint glow around the wick. "I think... I think I can see... something."
"Good." Darkwood answered. "Don't rush yourself, let it happen in it's own time."
A few moments passed, and then a look of wonderment began to appear on Ichigo's face as the faint glimmer began to slowly glow brighter. "Something's happening..." He spoke out loud, visibly smiling to himself as 'something' did indeed happen before his eyes... There was a small spark, followed by a another, and another... and then, in a flash, the black wick became alight with a small flame.
Darkwood quietly watched as the scene unfolded: First, as the flame had flickered to life on the end of the wick. And then, as the subsequent pleased expression rapidly spread across the youth's face. As this played out before him, the older man couldn't help but smile himself...
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
"Interesting..." Szayel mused, as the two men looked into the crate. A curious look overtook his face as he picked up one of the swords. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but this like... a sabre." The Octavio Espada remarked as he unsheathed the weapon and held it up to the light.
"At a glance, if anything," he continued. "I'd have to say that it resembles- perhaps- a 19th century European cavalry sabre." He went on, his golden eyes squinting.
At this, Ikaku moved to retrieve the other weapon from the crate. "Wait..." The Shinigami started as he lifted up the weapon. "This narrow double-edged blade, the big hand-guard and the short handle..." He observed. "This looks like Lieutenant Sasakibe's Zanpakuto. A... rapier?"
"That would be my guess." Szayel commented idly. "Hmm... From the look of things, it would appear that we have an officer's sword, or rather a gentleman's sword on our hands."
"A gentleman's sword?" Ikaku asked incredulously.
"Oh yeah." Szayel casually replied, re-sheathing the sabre. "You know, dueling- all thrusts and parries- the whole gentlemanly arts... That sort of thing." He offered with a wave of his hand.
"And that's it?" The Shinigami asked. "It's just for dueling?"
"Oh no, you could still kill a man with it." Szayel replied. "It might not look like much at first glance, but it's traditionally quite sharp... And the narrowness makes it rather well suited for running an enemy through with a strong enough jab- sliding in neatly, through the gap between ribs."
"And a blade's a blade, so to speak." Szayel went on. "After all, with sufficient determination, a person could kill someone with just about anything."
Ikaku smirked at this. "I take it then, you speak from experience?"
"Sadly, yes." Szayel answered, adjusting his glasses. "In the past, I've been presented sufficient cause more times than I care to count." He continued. "Swords, guns, a bone-saw, the leg off a chair, a length of rebar, a ball-point pen," the Espada paused. "Oh yes, and once with improvised chlorine gas... Nasty stuff, that last one, I personally wouldn't recommend it." He finished offhandedly.
"I'll try and remember." The Shinigami replied. "But, getting back to these weapons, I think it's time we started putting them through their paces and seeing what they can do."
"But of course." Szayel countered with a smile. "Now then... Lead on, Macduff!"
Szayel had set up multiple high-speed cameras in the testing room, to record Ikaku- in detail, and from multiple angles- as he prepared to brandish the various Ebonite weapons.
"As I mentioned before," the pink-haired Arrancar started. "I subjected the ore samples to an extensive barrage of scientific analyses." Szayel explained, as the Shinigami gripped the handle of the one of the weapons with both hands. "The mass-spectrometer indicated that it has a strong affinity for energy, so it's my belief that if the user and the blade properly synchronize, then it should be able to function like a 'focus'- to channel the spiritual energy of the wielder."
"And this, in turn," the Octavio continued, as he brushed a white gloved hand through the locks of his collar-length pink hair. "Should allow for a number of remarkable feats."
Ikaku regarded the katana in his hands, noting how the light glinted off of the smooth polished surface of the black metal of the sword-blade. "Well, it certainly looks impressive." He commented idly, while noting his own muted reflection in the obsidian-like darkness of the blade.
"And, if I'm proven correct," Szayel started, still smiling. "Then, that same impressiveness that you alluded to, just now, won't be limited merely to the weapon's aesthetics."
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
It had been just over a week, since Ichigo had entered the latest stage of his training- with Darkwood at his side, as his 'guide'- in order to attain a deeper understanding of the ways of Manifest.
Lighting the candle was only the first step, the first of many in this 'journey'. Since then, Ichigo had tried to meet up Darkwood for training as often as possible- at least three or four times a week, usually after the end of his work-shift or on the weekend. Surprisingly, juggling going to school, his job, his personal life, and training wasn't proving to be the stressful task he'd anticipated.
Rather, the reality of things was that Ichigo felt almost as if he was thriving on the increased activity in his day-to-day life. The young man couldn't help but wonder if this was a case of him finally having the things he needed to fill his life- to replace (in a sense) the things he had lost.
"Oi, Ichigo," Ikumi began with a smile. "Could you move those boxes into the back?" The dark-haired woman asked the teen, in her usual assertive upbeat tone.
He gave a simple nod. "Sure... No problem, Ikumi-san." Ichigo replied after a moment, before heading over to pick up the first of a number of boxes that had been delivered to the shop.
The sessions with Darkwood were never exactly the same, varying both in their length- from less than sixty minutes, to hours in some cases- and in both style and focus. The only real constant in all of them was the universality of energy, in all of its forms- both perceptible and imperceptible. His 'teacher' had gone on to explain that it was all a matter of learning how to become aware of the energy comprising the world around him, and from there, how to interact with it.
Ichigo still wasn't totally sure what to make of Darkwood. On one hand, the man seemed sincere in his desire to help him, and he was indeed helping him. And yet, on the other hand, despite all the time he'd spent with him, the teen still knew so little about the man... Though, Ichigo realized that this was a far cry from anything that might indicate some sinister ulterior motive on the part of his 'teacher'.
"Hey, what's in these?" Ichigo asked, setting the box down in the back of the shop.
"What's wrong, too heavy for you?" Ikumi asked teasingly, placing her gloved hands on her hips, idly watching him as he passed her- moving to pick up another one of the boxes.
"Hardly." Ichigo countered with a smirk, as he held one another one of them aloft, as if for emphasis. "I'm just curious, that's all." He explained as he turned, box-in-hand, and headed to the back.
"Indeed." She replied, adjusting her faux aviator cap. She folded her arms- which, in turn, pushed her ample breasts up rather nicely. Ikumi either failed to register the resulting blush that had graced Ichigo's face, or simply chose to ignore it, and merrily go about her business.
With an all-too-familiar look of determination, Ikumi proceeded to kneel down- seemingly oblivious to the way her round denim-clad backside jutted out- and pick up one of the boxes. Ichigo had been subtly watching her the whole time, and wondered if her antics were intentional.
"You don't need to do that." Ichigo started, moving towards her. "I can take care of this myself."
"Nonsense!" She replied chipperly "Besides, I'd hate to be the kind of boss that just stands around and watches, while others do all the work." Ikumi explained. "After all-"
She stopped mid-sentence as she bumped into him. "Ichigo?" Ikumi asked, surprised to suddenly have him standing in such close proximity to her.
"You know, Ikumi, I..." He started hesitantly, as he took the box from her hands. "I really admire you." Ichigo continued softly, moving to place the box with the others. "It's amazing, everything you've done- running a successful business, while raising a child alone..." He went on.
This time, it was Ikumi who blushed. "No, I... I'm nothing special." The older woman replied, in an attempt to deflect the praise... Partly because she was embarrassed, and partly because she wasn't sure how to respond to the fact that it was Ichigo- of all people- giving it.
"No, it's true." He countered, shaking his head. "You're an incredible woman."
She didn't know what to say. The truth was, she felt oddly vulnerable in that instant. However, after a few secants, Ikumi smiled bashfully. "Well, for what it's worth, Ichigo, you're not so bad yourself." She offered, still smiling. "And actually, it's nice to finally have... a man around, to rely on..."
The woman paused, looking up into his eyes, feeling as if she'd never really registered just how tall the young man was, or how broad his shoulders were. "...Even if just as an employee."
Ichigo shook his head. "Ikumi..." He spoke, blushing faintly himself. "I don't know if I should say this, but I don't think of you as just my boss." The teen revealed. "I feel like... you're someone I can rely on, that I really trust... And I want you feel like you can trust and rely on me."
She nodded, then- unaware she was even doing it- gently gripped his hands with hers. "Thank you..." Ikumi replied, her gray eyes meeting his brown ones. "I know I didn't really give you much of a choice when we first met... But thanks. Thank you, for staying with me- that is, here, in the shop."
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
Soul Society...
Ikaku Madarame, Third-Seat of the Eleventh Division, was clad in what resembled a technologically sophisticated variant of the typical kendo gear, as he brandished one of the weapons.
The multiple cameras set up in the room recorded as he cleaved through a series of polls- from simple bamboo, to reinforced steel- with the Ebonite blade. With this done, the demonstration culminated with the Shinigami burying the sword in a full-sized mannequin. From his vantage point, Szayel watched as the "body" of the construct teetered apart- in opposite directions...
However, before the Octavio could offer any comment, the dummy abruptly exploded in a violent flash of reiki, only for the nearby wall to be left with a visible scar in the surface.
Ikaku lifted up the visor of the face-mask. "Well, that was... interesting."
"It certainly was..." Szayel commented, appearing at his side. "It would seem... that the more I observe, the more it appears that my theories about the metal are baring out."
"Yeah," Ikaku remarked, glancing to him. "Too bad we can't ask the dummy..."
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
"Alright now, Ichigo, I need you to really focus during this session." Darkwood explained.
Ichigo was seated in a red-and-white striped deckchair, on the back porch of Darkwood's house, while the man stood nearby, leaning against the wooden railing. "Before you can make it a reality, it's crucial that you first visualize the object in your mind." He explained to him.
Nearby, rows of brightly-colored flowers, as well as tomatoes and squash were growing in the garden.
"Right..." Ichigo replied with a nod, closing his eyes. "I just need... to focus."
"This isn't about brute strength, it's all about finesse." Darkwood continued. "So, just remember, if you can envision something, it is then possible for it to exist." He added.
The orange-haired youth cleared his head, as he tried to visualize the specific 'object'- that Darkwood had instructed him to- within his mind, as he began to focusing himself on the task...
Darkwood watched as Ichigo turned his open palms upward, then as the energy above them began to glow faintly as something began to take shape. He watched, intently, soon able to discern as the energy assumed a form- hovering over the teen's open hands. It was about three feel in length, and as the form became more distinct, the glow from the energy progressively increased.
"I..." Ichigo started. "I think... something's happening!"
"Stay the course, Ichigo!" Darkwood replied intently. "Don't lose your focus now..."
Ichigo could 'feel' as something tangible took form in his hands. The next thing either of them knew, there was a flash of power, followed by a shining 'sword'- formed out of pure energy- materializing the younger man's hands. "I... did that?" The youth asked in amazement.
Darkwood nodded. "Yes, you did." He replied with a smile. "And this is just the beginning."
. . . ...o.o.o... . . .
Hanataro Yamada was seated in a room within the Fourth Division, looking over numerous files, when the door abruptly slid open. The ensuing racket caused the young Officer to snap to attention, looking away from the documents as a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.
Instantly, he recognized the smaller female half of the Primera Espada. Having grown accustomed to the female Arrancar's presence- as well as her inclination of appearing unannounced- Hanataro hardly responded to her arrival. Instead, he turned his gaze back to to the files. "Honestly, Lilly-chan-"
He was interrupted when slammed her palm down on the table. "Whaaa?" The Shinigami exclaimed, before looking up to her in confusion. "What the heck's gotten into you?!"
"You sure gotta nerve asking me that!" Lillynette snapped back. "But seriously, I didn't come here to argue with about that any of that crap..." The Arrancar continued. "We need to talk."
With that, she jumped the table. Hanataro bolted from his chair, bumping into the wall, as she landed between him and the desk. "Seriously, what the hell?!" The dark-haired youth exclaimed.
"I said... We. Need. To. Talk." Lillynette repeated emphatically.
"About what?!" He asked, wide-eyed.
"About us!" The Hollow answered. "I don't know about you, but I've done a lot of thinking... And the truth is, I need to know if you and I are on the same wavelength?" Lillynette continued, trapping him in place as she slammed her hands against the wall- on either side of him.
"So... before I go ahead and make a fool of myself, there's something important I need to know- like, right now." Lillynette continued, leaning in close. "I need you to be straight with me, Hanataro... Tell me, do you think about me as much as I think about you?"
Hanataro felt his cheeks become hot as he blushed, before noting that the girl standing before him was similarly blushing, even as she glared at him. "The truth is..." He started, taking a deep breath as he met her rose-colored her with his gray ones. "Yeah... I do." The Shinigami admitted, averting his eyes.
"The truth is... you're kinda hard to miss!" Hanataro blurted out. "So, um, could you, you know, maybe gimme... some space?" He asked, still not meeting her gaze.
Lillynette smiled, still blushing, though clearly pleased with the answer. "Why?" She asked pointedly, after a moment, before lowering her hands and leaning into him.
This seemed to surprise the young man. "B- because..." Hanataro hesitated, never feeling so trapped as he was in that moment. still. "You're, uh... too close." He answered, his blush deepening, still unwilling to make eye-contact with her as the scene continued to play out.
However, the female Arrancar remained undeterred. "But I don't want to- if I did, then it would spoil things." She answered bluntly, her almost playful tone never faltering. "That is, unless, you want me to back off." Lillynette continued gently. "Do you want me to, hmm, Hanataro-kun?"
Hanataro inwardly cursed his predicament. However, the truth was, she had him there...
He relented, finally meeting her gaze once again. "It's just, I-"
She cut him off with a kiss!
The contact between her lips against his own was shy and uncertain, even a bit clumsy. And yet, there was also something bold, hidden in the gesture, as well. In that instance, as she fervently kissed him, it felt almost like the Soul Reaper had been hit with a sudden jolt of electricity.
After a moment, she drew back, leaving them both breathless. "So, do you still want space?" Lillynette repeated the question, her voice almost a whisper this time.
It felt as if an eternity passed between the Arrancar and the Shinigami, before the latter youth finally responded, shaking his head. "No." Hanataro replied bashfully.
(- End of Chapter XLV... -)
You can thank NovaAlexandria for planting the seed of Lillynette/Hanataro in my mind (from her "Crossbreed The Future" series). Still, aside from the obvious influence that story provided, there is something about the two characters- with their adolescent angst- that just works really well together!
