This was a good dance, Vikram decided. The music wasn't going to make him deaf, there was just enough light for him to see his feet, and while the DJ may have been an illegal, Arrancar composers were known for their sick beats. Vikram tapped his foot and smiled to himself, fingers brushing the hilt of the longblade at his side. As much as he itched to join them, he had a duty -no matter how self-imposed- to keep everyone here safe. There was a reason he had accepted the invitation to the Octant's Blade team.

The door behind him-the one that wasn't supposed to be an entrance- burst open and someone slammed into him.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" A voice cried, and he regained his balance quickly, even if he was sent wheezing slightly. It was a girl. She was dressed normally enough and seemed out of breath, sweat glistening on her forehead.

"No worries! Are you ok?" He replied with a slight cringe then a smile. She was very small, her head barely up to his shoulder, with jet black hair and large dark blue eyes that sparkled violet in the dance lights. Despite her plain appearance, it went without saying she was gorgeous.

Her small eyebrows drew together in concern. "Oh, I'm fine. Are you sure? Again, I'm sorry. I'm terribly clumsy-"

Vikram laughed out loud, throwing the empty cup in a nearby can. He looked over his thin square glasses at her and smiled, pushing dark hair out of his eyes. "A girl? Clumsy? Well, I was taught that those two words never go together. I promise, I'm fine! Honestly, I'd be more worried about you. Are you sure you're old enough to come to a dance like this?" he asked, semi-jokingly.

A smile flitted across her features, eyes sparkling at his comment. In those eyes he saw a maturity that belied her size. She took a second to regain her breath -what had she been doing to require such exertion?- and she lifted her tone to imitate a noble. "I, good sir, am quite sure to be eligible for any occasion you care to direct me to. Not that I have much experience in regard to this type of dancing…" The pulsing music ended with a flash from the overhead lights, Vikram closed his eyes at just the right moment as the light blinded the girl. As she furiously blinked away afterimages, another song started, a rare slow tune, and Vikram smiled. This was his chance… He could leave his post for a moment, right?

"If you are so experienced, might I have the honor of this dance?" He gestured to the dance floor, where people had already begun to pair up. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she seemed hesitant to reply. Her eyes flicked to the open doors, then back to him. This girl was nervous, and for more reasons than just a dance.

She sighed. "All right." She let him lead her to the dance floor. He placed his right hand on her slim waist, her own rising to his shoulder. She looked up at him, eyes cautious. They began the simple dance, a series of swaying with the occasional extra movement determined by the music changes. Even a fool could tell she was a dancer, even these basic steps were performed with a precise grace that made Vikram feel awkward. He pressed on, however. Now that he'd gotten a dance with her, he couldn't embarrass himself now.

The girl was silent, head lowered, and Vikram could feel the presence of awkwardness rising between them. He shoved it away.
"I'm Vikram! What's your name?" She sighed again, meeting his eyes with a resigned air. Oddly enough, she was still wearing her gray backpack.

"Mevia." Sounded like a northern name. She didn't have the right accent, but who knew with ever-improving transport between the cities? Mevia's dark eyes scanned the flashing lights, crowded people, and enthusiastic DJ. She did a double take when she saw the DJ's white mask that covered his right eye and forehead.

Vikram caught her glance and smiled. "What, never seen a Arrancar DJ before?"

She shook her head, and smiled hesitantly in return. "Of course, don't be silly." He tilted his head at her as the music increased in tempo, and they began to spin faster.

"You've never seen an Arrancar DJ before," he said, deadpan.

Mevia glared at him and sniffed regally, as if he were the ignorant one. "As a matter of fact, I haven't ever seen an Arrancar DJ. So there. I said it."

"So, if you aren't from around here… where are you from?"

She tried in vain to remove the loose strand of hair hanging between her eyes. "Brenvale. Eighth octant outlier."
Hmm. Her accent was not southern either, it was too refined for that. Where was this girl from? She did seem to know her city talk though. "What brings you up here then? Not much to do around here." Her eyes narrowed slightly, and he got a distinct feeling that his questions were not helping her mood. If she didn't want to tell him, that was none of his business.

She did reply, however. "School. I wanted to get away from the outliers." Vikram nodded.

"Makes sense. Those places sure are small, and there are lots of Hollows out there. Never been to one myself, but I have friends who moved out of them. I heard the government's going to start shutting them down, if the attacks continue."

Mevia looked up at him curiously. "What do you know of Hollows?" she asked softly.

He shivered slightly, forcing back memories, and shrugged. "Little more than what I learned in school. Big, bad, want to eat your soul. Invisible to most folks, though I know people that have caught glimpses. My dad's one, he survived an attack just after he met my mom. Doesn't like to talk about it, though."
He lifted his hand, and Mevia twirled in time before settling back to him, this time looking up at him with interest in her eyes.
….

Rukia

Now this was starting to get interesting. This Vikram boy was nice enough, but she was glad he had stopped asking questions about her background. She didn't like lying, even if she was rather good at it. "Have you ever seen one?" she asked with wide eyes. She also didn't like playing the naïve outsider girl, even though she supposed it was the only role she could pull off in this situation. She had played it before, when… She shoved the thought away.

Vikram's cheery countenance sobered. "No. But I had a friend, when I was in elementary school. We were pretty close, he was on the junior Blade team with me. He just… didn't come to school one day." He paused, and behind his glasses his brown eyes took on depth that Rukia knew only came from sorrow. "I went to his funeral. The Death Dealers wouldn't let anyone see his body." He was quiet for a second, and Rukia looked up at him, concern in her eyes.
He shook himself and his smile returned. "No, I don't like Hollows. But that's why I'm on the Longblade team." He motioned to the sword at his hip, a simple straight double bladed thing. She had been wondering about that. "Maybe if I get good enough, I'll be a Death Dealer someday. I don't have much power, but who knows? I'm pretty good with a sword, maybe I'll get lucky. And besides, that was a long time ago."

Rukia smiled back at him, but with her mind she felt out his spiritual strength. She realized with a start that Vikram's spiritual power was spectacularly low. Even for a human. And she knew very well that it made no difference how good at fighting you were, skill alone never made a Shinigami. Power was the key. At least that was what everybody said. She shook her head as his next question met her ears. "Sorry, what was that?"

He chuckled and repeated, "I said, what's your family like? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Yes, one older brother."

Vikram's head cocked with interest. "What does he do?"

Rukia sighed. "Where I come from, he's a leader. He expects a lot from me." Stern words. Hard eyes, colder even then the power she wielded.

Vikram nodded, thoughtful. "Sounds like my dad." The soft music ended, and people began to split up again. Vikram's hand hesitantly moved from Rukia's waist.

"Well, thank you." Rukia said with a smile, disengaging from dance position, letting Vikram escort her off the floor. She wasn't used to smiling this much, and she hadn't smiled in general for a good while. Ever since… No. Focus.

"You are very welcome, Mevia!" He replied with a wide grin. She made to turn away and head somewhere else, but he caught her arm. "Hey! Could I… uh… can I have your number?"

She shook her head slowly, then corrected herself. "Well, I mean, I do not have a phone…" Her voice trailed off as the music abruptly stopped. They turned just in time to see the DJ set down his headphones and stand up, his single visible eye staring ahead intently as if listening.

The mutters that had sprang up in the wake of the silence quieted again. Rukia felt something dark on the edge of her awareness just as the DJ screamed into his mic, "EVERYBODY GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE NOW-"

A massive boom shook the stadium, the sound reverberating around the large room. Vikram jumped in shock, putting his hand on the blade of his sword, and people screamed in surprise. Rukia shrugged off her bag as fast as she could.

She was not fast enough. The wall behind the DJ pit exploded outward, showers of sparks dousing the dancers as the great frames supporting the speakers squealed with strain. With the snap of cables, the huge mass of wiring and steel plummeted to the floor.

Rukia felt Vikram's hand on her arm, pulling her away from the collapsing frameworks. She shrugged his hand off easily, surprising him with her strength."Get away! Get out of here!" She yelled to him, drawing the small konpaku dispenser from her bag. He yelled something incomprehensible at her, panic and fear in his voice. Rukia looked up in surprise just in time to see the falling pieces following her as if seeking her out. The frames slammed into her, throwing her to the ground, pain flashing through her legs. The dispenser flew out of her grip as if ripped by an unseen hand.
…

Vikram

Vikram knelt next to Mevia, panic flooding through his veins. Her legs were pinned under the piece of girding, and red liquid was pooling under the metal. Amazingly, she was still conscious, but she pushed away his attempts to free her. He was distracted by another boom coming from the direction of the DJ pit. He had drawn his sword sometime in the confusion, but had no idea what to do with it.

People were scattering, screaming and running to the exits, some fleeing into the stands. Vikram couldn't see what was causing all the confusion, but he knew the signs when he saw them. All of a sudden, piles of equipment at the sides of the pits were smashed onto the floor by an invisible force, sprays of sparks flying into the air.

There was a Hollow here. He swore, renewing his efforts to lift the metal pinning Mevia. Her hand clasped his arm, surprising him, and he looked to her. Her dark blue eyes stared into his, and she took a deep breath. "Bakudo 34. Tsuka no kabe." He stared at her bewildered, then almost fell as walls of blue light rose around them, enclosing them in a square. Spirit Spells! She was a Death Dealer! "Vikram." Her words grabbed him with their intensity, and he looked to her, wide-eyed. Even there, bleeding and trapped, she looked regal in the dim light. Mevia reached into her bag and drew out a pair of white bars, gleaming orange in the growing firelight. "Take one. We don't have much time."

A crash sounded outside their shield, Vikram's gaze ripped from her as a section of the bleachers collapsed under nothing behind a small group of teens, who shouted and tried to climb higher. He recognized some of them, his friends from school.

"Pay attention!" He looked back at Mevia, desperation on his face. She held out the bars of metal, calm and collected. "Do you want to save them?" He nodded, tears forming against his will. He couldn't help them, he couldn't even see the Hollow! But he would do anything to try.
Something slammed into their shield, and Mevia cried out, dropping the bars. Vikram knelt to pick them up, but before he did, he looked out. A faint outline, like a heat mirage, wavered outside their protection. It was twice as tall as he. He grasped the bars, one in each hand.

"No, not both!" Mevia started-

An explosion of light blinded him, threatening to rip the objects from his hands, the shield expanding and collapsing around them with an ear-shattering crack. The fog of light cleared, leaving Vikram stumbling. He looked down at himself in surprise. He now wore a dark garment that fit him snugly, and he carried two swords. One was a familiar longblade, with a long white double-sided blade and silver crossguard. The other was a simple black katana, in the style of the East.

And at his feet was… him?! A dark-haired body, glasses pressed against the hardwood floor, seemingly unconscious… that was totally him, had he died?
But there was something within him. A pulsing beat, stronger than his heart had ever been, all throughout his body. It was strength, it was life, it was… spiritual power. He was a Death Dealer. He looked to Mevia, confusion and awe clear on his face. Hers was a mirror of his, dark blue eyes wide in astonishment.

"By the Sleeping King…" he murmured. He stared at the swords in his hands for barely a second before realizing that he and Mevia were not alone on the floor of the stadium. In the far corner of the court, a monster was picking itself off the ground. It had six legs, each ending with claws the size of his new swords, with a sinuously snake-like body complete with bladed tail. It looked at him, and its blank white mask was broken only by a pair of red eyes and a mouthful of jagged teeth. It rose on two pairs of legs, revealing an empty black hole in the center of its chest. A Hollow.

Vikram almost dropped his swords, fear tearing at him, telling him to run. But he didn't. The Hollow stalked towards them, leaving his friends in the stands to get away. Whatever Mevia had done, it was working.

"Vikram!" Mevia shouted. "Over there, on the ground, see that canister?" He followed her finger, seeing the slim silver container on the ground.

"I see it! And so does… By Voan..." The Hollow charged, roaring, its multiple footfalls shaking the ground.

"Don't worry about me, just get that container over here! And don't die!" Vikram dropped the black katana, and it disappeared after leaving his hand. He had no idea how to use it. But the longblade…. A different story. He ran towards the silver canister, hefted the white blade in both hands, sensing its perfect balance. Just as he reached the canister, it flew away from him, bouncing across the wreckage-strewn floor.

"It has some kind of telekinesis power!" He heard Mevia shout. He looked behind him to see her, and he dove backwards to avoid a swinging claw. It whistled over his head, barely missing him. He scrambled back, swinging wildly to deflect the rapid attacks the Hollow sent his way. A particularly vicious swing met him squarely in a block and sent him flying. He crashed into the concrete side of the stadium, sword dropping from his hand, coming to rest in a heap on the ground.

He tasted blood, and growled softly. He could hear the Hollow roaring again, its claws scrabbling across the wood floor as it tried to crush the canister. He stood, picking up his sword and groaning at the pain in his back. Then he looked behind him and saw cracks in the concrete wall.
He had caused those.

He straightened, and leveled his blade at the monster. "I am Vikram Dencea, son of Daro Dencea! I stand against you!" In response to the traditional challenge, the Hollow's mask swung towards him, red eyes bleeding crimson light. That had worked better than expected. He gritted his teeth. This thing wanted to hurt his friends, did it?

The Hollow charged, and Vikram changed stances, holding the blade next to his face in a double-handed grip, feet spread wide under him. He would stand his ground. He would.

"Try to hit its mask!" He heard Mevia calling from across the room, her voice high with tension. The Hollow reached out to impale him with a single claw, and Vikram focused. He watched its trajectory, and moved by instinct, honed by years of training and diligent practice. The Hollow was surprised by the removal of the limb with a deft overhand blow. It stumbled with a screech of pain, careening past Vikram, who had wisely removed himself from its path. Before it could recover from its surprise, he was already past it, running for the canister.

"Got it!" He said, holding it up triumphantly. His glee turned to terror as the Hollow threw itself at him once more, faster than a striking viper. He dodged past the first blow, and barely got his sword up in time to parry another, the power behind the blow pushing him back. The Hollow rose on its hind legs with a howl, bringing its three remaining front limbs down in rapid succession. Vikram rolled out of the way, the canister clenched tightly in his fist. The last claw ripped a gash in his leg as he came out of the roll, and Vikram gasped in pain as red dotted the hardwood floor.
So he turned and ran.

Back towards where Mevia was trapped. He smiled, but before he could pat himself on the back, rubble rose from the floor around him, blocking his path. He paused and turned slowly, blade held in one hand. The Hollow approached leisurely, knowing he couldn't run. Vikram narrowed his eyes, staring the Hollow right in its red eyeslits. These monsters had taken things from him, and he would be damned before they could take anything else.

So he lifted his blade and charged, power rising in his blood. The Hollow seemed genuinely surprised, backing up a step. And then the rubble floating in the air threw itself at Vikram. The slender youth dove over the first mangled piece of metal, but the second clipped him on the shoulder, almost throwing him to the ground.

"Time to see what this thing can do." He muttered to himself, hefting his blade. The next piece of steel soared towards him, and hoping against rationality, he swung the longblade directly against it. The sword- no, the Zanpakuto- sheared through the metal like it was paper. In that moment, it all came clear to Vikram. Somehow, Mevia had turned him into a Death Dealer, and now he had his own Spirit Cutter. He could fight this thing.

And he could win.

Vikram swung his long sword in another controlled arc, removing another chunk of metal from the air. The Hollow seemed desperate now, determined to get him out of the way so it could stop Mevia, but Vikram had given himself a job to do. Stall, give Mevia time. Vikram grinned. What the Hollow did not notice was when Vikram had tossed the Mevia's waiting hands.

He came within range and dodged another strike, the Hollow screeching its annoyance. Vikram swung the longblade up at the being's torso, forcing it back before chopping off the tip of another leg. It howled in pain before leaning down to snap at Vikram, receiving a slice on its mask for the trouble.

Not hard enough… Vikram thought to himself, leaping back from another swinging blow. The Hollow swung its tail at him, and even with a block that almost removed it he was sent flying. He skidded across the ground, slamming into the low wall. Pain flashed through his frame, and he felt energy leave his body in a rush. The Hollow wasted no time and was already moving to devour him. Vikram tried to stand, but slipped on a piece of rubble.

He desperately raised his sword to fend off the killing blow he knew was coming. A flash of white light filled the stadium, blinding Vikram, shoving the Hollow away. But even more was the blast of pure power that surged through his very being, announcing the presence of something powerful. He had seen and felt spiritual power from others, but this… was something different.

He looked into the light and saw Mevia, dressed in flowing black robes weilding a shining white katana. She walked through the air, deliberately calm. She raised her sword and spoke, and somehow Vikream heard her words. "San no mai, Shirafune."

The Hollow roared in fear, but before it could anything more than turn, a spear of gleaming white power extended from the tip of Mevia's sword. In an instant, it took the demon directly in the center of it's mask, shattering it. The Hollow screamed and began to dissolve, but before its cry left the air Vikram could have sworn he heard the relief of a tortured soul, finally released from its living hell.

The blade -was that ice?- shattered in midair, the shards fading before they hit the ground.

Vikram stood, stumbling slightly, knuckles white on the hilt of his longblade. He stared in awe at Mevia's descending form. He had thought at first that she was one of the SDR, maybe even a Death Dealer. But he realized now, looking at the elegant robes and the tied wooden symbol on her right arm, that Mevia was none of those. She was a Shinigami of the Gotei Thirteen.

In an instant she was beside him, the white blade returned fully to the sheath at her side. "You're not from the outliers, are you?" Vikram asked numbly, an exhausted grin growing.

She shook her head slowly, a small smile on her face. "No. And you're not just a mortal, are you…"

Vikram could tell this wasn't a question, but even if it had been he would not have known how to answer it. "I mean, I guess not?" He rubbed the back of his head, and felt blood there.

She shook her head again, gesturing for him to walk beside her. He fell into step anxiously, and even though he was a good head and a half taller than her, she still carried herself like royalty. They were walking back to where their bodies lay. Then she spoke, and Vikram listened. "I am Rukia Kuchiki, and it seems like I finally found what I came for. I can explain, but do you have a sketchpad? It would be much easier that way."