Chapter Twenty: Mamorubeki Mono

It was already showing signs of being another scorching hot day in District One as Juushirou left the dining hall after breakfast, detouring via the gymnasium to collect a sheathed asauchi before heading across the school grounds to the fenced off area of land given over especially to one on one sword training sessions. A faint flicker of anticipation and excitement welled up inside of him as he passed through the cluster of trees, and inwardly he wondered whether or not his new shishou was already there.

He had never been to the training grounds before, for they were generally the province of Senior students and only those lower level students who had begun studying the art of the zanpakutou were ever timetabled to meet there. Mostly those people were fourth year students or above, and he felt more than a little self conscious as he reached the gate, stretching out a tentative hand to touch the smoothed wood. Above his hand, a small, square plaque had been nailed with the words "Zanpakutou Training Grounds." scribed in clear, concise Kanji, and a second flutter began in his heart at this.

Zanpakutou.

He mouthed the word silently, almost sure he could hear the waves and feel the gentle touch of fishes' fins against the back of his thoughts.

I never expected to be doing this so soon. In fact, I'm not sure if I expected to be doing it at all. But even so, here I am. Whatever happens from hereon in, I'll do my best not to let Sensei down.

The old man's message had come as he and his dorm-mates had been heading down the corridors to breakfast, in the form of an out-of-breath, anxious first year student whose name Juushirou did not know. As they'd reached the door, he had felt a tug on his sleeve, and before he could properly respond the boy had gabbled out his message before haring back along the hall to rejoin his own kind.

Shunsui had found it amusing, commenting on the fact that Juushirou's reputation was obviously of a level that even the first years knew who he was without having to ask questions. But Juushirou had been too focused on the contents of that message to pay close attention to his friend's teasing. He had choked down his breakfast, hurrying to the allocated meeting place as quickly as he could, for he knew that Shirogane was not the kind of person who would tolerate latecomers.

As he pushed open the gate, he realised that his senior was already there, glittering sword drawn from its sheath as he swung a few lazy practice swings in the morning air. As Juushirou entered, he paused, turning and casting his companion a disdainful look.

"So you did decide to come then. I suppose that they do tell second year students how to find this place, even if it's not usual for them to be invited."

"Sensei sent a message, and I came as soon as breakfast was over." Juushirou bowed his head. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Nagoya-senpai."

Shirogane sighed, shaking his head.

"You're here, so it's enough for now." He said flatly, twitching his weapon in the direction of Juushirou's sheathed blade. "You're a second year, and worse, District, so I don't anticipate you know much about how to use that thing. But still, I'm sure you know you can't fight with it like that. Draw it. If I'm giving up my free time to tutor you, I'm not going to waste it on needless pleasantries."

"Yes, Senpai." Juushirou could see the irritation glittering in the older boy's grey eyes, and he nodded, obediently drawing the asauchi from its sheath and setting the empty scabbard down on the ground, gripping the weapon hilt tightly in his right hand. "I hadn't used a sword at all before I began this year, but I've worked with bokutou and I'll do my best not to fall behind."

"Mm. District children don't get taught anything of any use." Shirogane rolled his eyes. "Yet Sensei seems certain that you're some kind of prodigy, Ukitake. I guess I'd better start to see a bit of that, else I'll be wasting my time training you."

He darted suddenly forward, swinging his weapon decisively down towards Juushirou's upper body and Juushirou faltered, only just managing to bring his own weapon up to block against his companion's attack. As the metal clashed together, Shirogane hopped back, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"Well, at least you have a sense of self-preservation. Perhaps even reflexes. All right. Then from now on I intend to do exactly as Sensei told me to. To push you to the limits of your endurance. Be aware, Ukitake, that I take no pleasure in training a District child and nor do I intend to go easy on you no matter how much you beg me to. You may have budding skills or you may not – I'll decide that later – but when I graduate this place I will be second officer in Sixth District's Shinigami patrol, hand-picked by Guren-sama himself as his second in command. You will have to work hard – very hard – to even lay your blade near me, let alone draw my blood."

He struck forward again, and Juushirou only just had time to ready his stance before the slender, elegant weapon was once more slashing towards him, genuine killing intent glittering across even its sealed form. He brought his asauchi up hurriedly, but despite Shirogane's slight form there was real force behind his attacks and he simply shifted the angle of his swing, cutting down in such a way that his blow forced the asauchi from Juushirou's grip. It clattered across the ground, and Shirogane withdrew his blade, shaking his head slowly.

"Ten seconds and already you're disarmed." He said disparagingly. "Is that really the best you can do, or are you simply so overwhelmed by having stepped through those gates that you no longer remember which end of the sword is which?"

Despite himself, Juushirou felt his pride flaring inside of him at the dismissive nature of his companion's words, but he forced the retort from his lips, bending instead to retrieve his weapon.

"I'm sorry, Senpai." He said instead. "I'm not used to fighting against someone who's already brought their blade to release level."

"That's what's called an excuse." Shirogane's eyes narrowed, and he swept his weapon once more from right to left, knocking the asauchi flying a second time before Juushirou could prepare himself for a second attack. "I don't accept those, so save your breath. Either you're going to show me why Sensei has so much blind faith in you, or I'm going to spend the whole of these sessions slashing into you just why I find District children an insult to this school."

Juushirou's indignation rose in him once more at this, and he retrieved his sword a second time, this time clasping his fingers firmly around the hilt in the way Minabe had instructed them in their first kenjutsu lesson.

"I'm sorry that I'm not at your standard already, Senpai." He said coldly. "But you can't expect that from someone who's fought with a sword for only a couple of months. It's not an excuse, it's how things are. And if you really intend to teach me anything, you should surely first assess what your student can do before telling him everything he can't."

"I remember that you have an attitude about you." Shirogane nodded, tapping the tip of his blade against his leg absently as he gazed Juushirou up and down. "Glaring at me now with those bastardised eyes. Even though you might have distant Kuchiki blood – and even if Ryuu is willing to acknowledge it – those eyes tell me otherwise. They're a commoner's eyes, and I can't help that. If you can't do it, you shouldn't be here. This isn't a party. It's a training camp for potential war."

"I'm not a Kuchiki. I'm an Ukitake." Despite himself, Juushirou's reiatsu flared up at the implied insult to his beloved father. "And I'm far prouder of that than I ever would be to be part of any Clan. I'm not here for you to nanny me or pity me or give me special favours. I'm here to learn to summon my sword in whatever way I can. And the sooner I do that, Senpai, the sooner you and I won't have to have anything to do with one another at all. Sensei said neither of us had a choice in this, after all – so the sooner I succeed, the better it will be for the both of us!"

Shirogane eyed him for a moment, then he let out a low chuckle.

"Even though you're as lowborn as you are, you still give your opinions readily." He reflected. "All right. Since we're both agreed that you're no Kuchiki, you won't expect me to treat you as an equal, or even simply a junior student. You're a nuisance in my way at present – but you're also right. The sooner I beat sense into you, the sooner these sessions will end. And the sooner I can leave this Academy behind."

He tapped his blade against the fingers of his left hand, then,

"I don't know, yet, if I believe you capable of that." He admitted. "As a second year, and a District boy, to beat even my development speed…but still, Sensei believes it, so there's no helping it. I am quite serious about training you, Ukitake. Because training you is my ticket out of this place for good."

He readied his stance, twitching the index finger of his left hand lazily as he indicated for Juushirou to come at him and the District boy set his teeth, driving forward before his awareness of their difference in experience made him falter. He swung his blade fast and low, and Shirogane met it neatly, parrying the strike and shifting his weight from left to right as he prepared to bring another sweeping attack around to disarm his student once more.

But Juushirou had at least learnt from the first attack and he jumped back just before Shirogane's swing could render its full effect, doing his best to remember everything Minabe had drummed into them in the first few weeks of term.

Balance should be light…shifting it should be easy…movement is important, as well as accuracy and precision.

He frowned, almost sure he could hear the stern Ouyoudou sensei repeating those strictures in the back of his mind.

Panic and fear are your real enemies. You're not fighting unless you're fighting to win. One on one is a matter of strategy and wit even if there is a disparity in strength– and the one who loses focus first, loses the battle.

He darted forward, clattering his asauchi against Shirogane's polished zanpakutou again, this time with a more deliberate swing, and as the two made contact again he was aware for the first time of Shirogane's reiatsu flickering neatly at the edges of his weapon, helping him to become one with the blade that he now held.

In that brief instant, Juushirou envied him, for the sword he held in his hands today felt like what it was - heavy, lifeless metal. Though in past training he had felt some kind of connection to his weapon, in such close proximity to one who had summoned his sword he realised that it had been simply another illusion – and that he had a long long way to go before he reached the same level as the school's reluctant Anideshi.

But that's why I'm here. It's no reason to give up. So I won't give up. I'll show him that even if I don't have skills yet, I have determination.

As Shirogane countered his attack once more, Juushirou's sharp eyes caught sight of the delicate shift in his companion's balance and the ease with which he transferred his weight from his defensive left to his attacking right whilst still moving forward into the clash itself. It was a smooth, flowing movement, borne of many years training with a weapon, Juushirou was sure. Yet even if that was the case, to see it was still to learn from it, and even as he struggled to push back Shirogane's ever more encroaching swings, he hurriedly tried to work out how he might apply the same technique to his own swordsmanship.

The Kuchiki are renowned for their swordplay, and Nagoya-senpai said himself that he's been chosen for District Six, just as Sora told us when term began. Therefore, he must be one of the most skilled and if I watch him while we fight, I'll learn from that as much as I will from anything he yells at me. Just if I can keep a hold on my sword, I'll watch carefully what he does with his. After all, that's a zanpakutou, not an asauchi. And if that's where I'm heading – it can't hurt.

His feet skidded on the dry earth at that moment and he cursed, taking several steps to steady himself. Shirogane pounced, ready to take advantage of his junior's weakness without a moment of hesitation or mercy. The point of the shining sword drilled down towards him and somehow Juushirou managed to twist himself out of the way, reiatsu flaring once more as his body instinctively defended itself from the incoming attack.

As it prickled and danced against his skin, Juushirou was aware of Shirogane's sudden pause, then, with a sigh, the older boy stepped back.

"So that's it, after all." He said thoughtfully.

"S…Senpai?" Juushirou steadied himself, gazing at the older boy in surprise, and Shirogane poked his blade up against Juushirou's chest, the point grazing the surface of his junior's white hakamashita.

"Sensei said you had great power and potential." He said quietly. "But what you actually have is a serious leak."

"A…leak?" Juushirou was floored, and Shirogane nodded, a disdainful expression crossing his features.

"What I mean is that you may have power, but that's all it is." He said flatly. "Your body thought you were in danger, so it sought to counter me. Against an opponent of your level, that technique would probably cause them to fall back. But it is not something of which you should be proud. Poisoning the atmosphere around you with rampant spirit power is not a recognised Shinigami art, after all."

Despite himself, Juushirou's cheeks blazed red, and Shirogane sighed.

"This is what you give me to work with, Sensei." He muttered. "Very well. At least I see now why it was me you chose."

"Sensei said you were one of the best students of shikai and zanjutsu." Juushirou reflected, and Shirogane glanced up, seemingly surprised by the remark. Then he snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"That's obvious." He said derisively. "But not what I meant. What I meant was that any lesser member of Senior Class would not be able to train you, let alone teach you to summon your sword."

"But…why not?" Juushirou was taken aback, and Shirogane raised his weapon, tapping the younger boy on the shoulder.

"Your reiatsu is dangerous." He said quietly. "Toxic, possibly, to anyone not prepared to face it in full flow."

"To..xic?" Juushirou paled, the hilt of his weapon slipping forgotten through his fingers as he stared at his companion in dismay.

Shirogane nodded.

"Yes. At present its levels are tolerable, but if you were pressed into combat or if you dropped your guard, yes. I think that would be an adequate word."

"But…what…I don't…"

"Shut up, then, and listen." Shirogane bent to pick up the dropped asauchi, swinging it round and thrusting the hilt back in Juushirou's direction. "And take this, else you're no use to me. You understand, don't you, about reiatsu? You do study, I presume, since you managed to make it to second year without killing anyone?"

"Yes. I study. I rank second in second year overall." Now annoyance began to take over Juushirou's dismay, and Shirogane nodded again.

"Good. Then you know that spirit power is constituted of reiatsu and reiryoku and that both work in harmony to produce the powers used by Shinigami?"

"Yes."

"Right. Then that makes it simpler." Shirogane stood back, eying him carefully. "Sensei did say your power was strong and he's not wrong. You are strong, in an ugly, abnormal way. Your body is like a leaking barrel – reiatsu flows from you like water from the cracks between the wood. In itself, that's unsurprising. It's common among those who have been poorly trained or who have received little or no instruction in how to control it on account of their low birth. However…"

He jabbed at Juushirou's hakamashita again, this time poking through the fabric and Juushirou winced as a faint pin-prick of blood began to seep through onto the white cloth.

"You have far too much of it to be safely left alone." Shirogane continued quietly. "That is why Sensei sent you to me to train. I have a high level of reiatsu control, and, being born Kuchiki, a high tolerance to other people's spirit power. Of all the Seniors, I'm probably the only one you couldn't poison easily if you let your barriers down and allowed that power to flow freely into the atmosphere. But it can't be allowed to stay that way. For one thing, as a Shinigami, you'd draw Hollows to you and endanger your companions. And for another, if you lowered your guard now you might already pose that kind of risk – to your classmates and to your family back home."

Juushirou lowered his gaze.

"My body is weaker than my spirit power and of late it's begun to be overwhelmed." He admitted softly. "I have always had…some control. But either my body is weaker or my power is growing greater. I don't know which – but I'm having to fight harder to keep it under wraps. Sensei said…"

"If I batter enough endurance into you that you can confine your reiryoku somewhat into blade form, you will alleviate the problem." Shirogane cut across him. "If, though. There's no guaranteeing you will be able to – especially if your reiatsu is as abnormally high as it seemed to be just from that little flicker I felt just now. But there really is no other choice for you. Left like this, it'll hurt someone. You, someone else, both. The leak has to be stopped, or at least, controlled…I guess that's what Sensei was trying to tell me when he assigned you to me."

Juushirou paused, then,

"Can you…teach me to do that?" He asked hesitantly, and Shirogane sighed.

"It's in my interests to do so, so I mean to try." He said resignedly. "Though I should have known that Sensei's task really would not be easy to complete."

He gestured to the asauchi.

"Come at me again. I saw you were at least watching me when you attacked, and even crude mimicry is a form of learning, so they say. I wouldn't say you have a style, but at least you're not afraid of your weapon. We'll keep working and see what happens."

"Yes, Senpai." Juushirou nodded, gathering his resolve once more as he launched a fresh attack on his companion, Shirogane neatly parrying the strokes as they came to him one at a time. He was not really putting much effort into his own reactions, Juushirou knew, and despite the gulf in their experience he found this somehow more demeaning than any of the comments Shirogane had made about his background or his family. Redoubling his determination he slid his left foot forward, defending the blow and then, somewhat rashly, shifting his weight across to his right as he flew forward into his opponent's fighting space, sword directed at his companion's midriff. Shirogane cursed, hopping back at the unexpectedly reckless move and as he knocked the weapon away, Juushirou felt a flare of something prickle through his body.

Fear struck him as he remembered the incident with the water bowl up by the spring, and he froze momentarily, giving Shirogane the opening to bring his weapon down once more towards Juushirou's chest. At the last minute Juushirou realised the danger, and struck out towards the glittering zanpakutou, reiatsu flaring once more as he stretched to push the senior's elegant weapon aside. Somehow he managed it, but Shirogane simply darted away and back again, his attacks coming from one side and then the other as Juushirou struggled to keep up with all of the older student's moves.

He had stepped it up a gauge, yet still did not appear to be breaking a sweat, and Juushirou gritted his teeth, determined that he was not going to be disarmed as easily this time as he had been at the start. He hopped back, copying what he had seen the older boy do before bringing his weapon across to parry the Senior's blade and then, before the two had broken contact he had a wild idea, memory of Shunsui's fighting style darting briefly through his thoughts.

Left hand. Right hand. What do I have to lose?

Before he could stop and think about it coherently, his body had already slipped into action, passing the hilt from his right hand across to his left and bringing it down with force. Shirogane's eyes widened as for the first time the student's asauchi brushed down towards the sleeve of his own hakamashita, yet the grip was not as strong and the Senior soon gathered his wits, flinging his arm up to knock the weapon clean out of Juushirou's fingers.

This time it spun in the air a couple of times before embedding itself in the root of a nearby tree, and as he fought to catch his breath, Juushirou was aware of his companion bearing down on him.

"What the hell kind of move was that?" He demanded. "You're right handed, you fool – why did you suddenly pass it into your left?"

"Because…I thought…you wouldn't expect…it." Juushirou raised his hazel gaze to the angry grey one, dragging air into bruised, exhausted lungs. "And…I wanted…to see if…it would work."

"In a battle, you'd be killed." Shirogane said bluntly. "Throwing such amateur circus tricks into the ring. If you can't fight with both hands, you shouldn't try to use both hands. That just stands to reason."

But I felt like I could use them, just for that moment. And even though I lost my grip…Senpai, I touched your sleeve with my blade.

Juushirou frowned, taking in the consternation in the stormy grey eyes.

And you know it too. That even if it was stupid and reckless…it very nearly worked.

He closed his eyes, feeling his chest tighten and spasm from the combination of exertion and flaring reiatsu and he coughed, putting his hand to his mouth as he prayed inwardly that he was not going to choke up blood.

"You are an odd kid." Shirogane paced across to retrieve the discarded weapon. "You break all the rules in society and now you want to break them in sword fighting too. But you're the one who'll end up hurting for it."

He turned back, fixing Juushirou with a piercing gaze.

"I can sense it in your reiatsu. You just pulled the stopper on the leak a little more, and you're paying the price for your lack of control."

Juushirou swallowed hard, but it was no good, and as the all-too familiar sensation of burning blood seared up through his vocal chords, he dropped to the ground, allowing the spasms to have their way.

As red spattered onto the ground below, Shirogane wrinkled up his nose in displeasure, dropping the asauchi to the ground and kicking it across in his companion's direction.

"We're not done yet." He said quietly. "In a battle, you don't have time to stop and nanny yourself. You make a mistake, well, you fight on with it. So we're fighting on. Until you pass out or you die…we're not done."

Juushirou gazed up at him in bewilderment, taking in the steely resolution in his companion's gaze. Then, he nodded, dashing his hand across his mouth as he scrambled to his feet, picking up the sword. Despite the older boy's obvious disapproval, Juushirou felt his heart lighten slightly at the older boy's offhand reaction.

He didn't tell me to go inside, or rest, or make a fuss. He just treated it like nothing, and pushed me on.

He tightened his grip, forcing himself to ignore the stinging in his chest.

If I make a mistake, I fight on with it. If I do that, it's in my control and nobody else gets hurt. That's the message and I understand. I understand, Senpai. Thank you.

Out loud he said,

"I'm all right to continue now, Senpai. I'm sorry for the delay."

"Then don't waste more time apologising." Came the acerbic reply. "Speak with your sword, Ukitake. Let's go."

So it was done.

Keitarou stood back, wiping the sweat from his brow as he gazed down at the still, silent form of his ally and kinsman as it lay abandoned on the earth outside the Endou-ke's execution ground. As he had expected, Shouichi had laid on guards, but this time Keitarou had been ready for them and the only difference between Daisuke's cool corpse and their warm ones was that those wearing armour were the ones more saturated in fresh blood.

He had killed six men this time, simultaneously, with one release of his blade.

Keitarou pondered on that for a moment, even as he bent to carefully lift Daisuke's heavy body up onto his own slender shoulders.

It had happened almost as a reflex. As soon as he had seen the men in Endou armour he had felt the weapon release, stabbing through their hearts and burrowing deep inside of them before ripping out and taking their life force with them. He had failed against Shouichi and he had spared the Shinigami who had attempted to arrest him. But there would be no more sparing of lives now. He had had enough of holding back and hiding – from now on, he would look to one thing and one thing only.

Revenge.

As he slipped into shunpo, moving swiftly from the scene to the dense forestland that he had concealed Shikiki that morning, he found himself dwelling on the childhood he and Daisuke had spent together. It had not been an easy or a happy one, but it had been a shared one, and that in itself had been enough. They had both seen the same hardships and understood the same discrimination and persecution as their families had fled under the cover of nomadic tribes-people and then further onwards, their mothers fearful that unless they reached the land of the warrior Clan who had not voted to kill them, they would be caught and dragged back before the Council.

Shouichi had been the one, then, who had welcomed them to shelter in his territory. Keitarou's eyes darkened at this recollection. His mother had called Shouichi a saviour and a man true to his distant Urahara kinsfolk, but even as a child he had always been somehow wary of their so-called protectors.

And now, he reasoned blackly, he knew why.

Soon he reached his destination, setting Daisuke's corpse down on the dry grass and pausing for a moment to view the battered features of his oldest and, probably, only friend. The sight of his stillness only caused rage to stir within Keitarou's body, rage he did not really know how to control, and he turned away, unwilling to see the bluish skin or the blank, unseeing eyes for a moment longer. Even so, they burnt into his thoughts…and once again he remembered Daisuke's desperate lunge to save him from Shouichi's sword.

You'd made up your mind. I knew that when you sent Irie away, but I hoped it wouldn't happen so soon as this. Now I have to finish everything myself – but at least I have Shikiki and that, I trust, will be enough.

Almost as if she had heard his thoughts, the small girl emerged at that moment from the undergrowth, eyes big and fearful as she gazed from Daisuke's body to her self-appointed protector and guardian.

"Dai-nii?" She whispered, and Keitarou turned, holding out his hand to her. She came hesitantly, and Keitarou could feel the fear radiating from her aura as she approached the corpse cautiously.

"Shikiki, you understand, don't you?" Keitarou asked softly, and Shikiki nodded her head.

"The Shinigami killed him." She murmured. "They killed Dai-nii because he wouldn't tell them where I was."

"No, it's not your fault." As tears glittered in the small, bright eyes, Keitarou shook his head. "It was me they wanted, not you. You did nothing wrong…so don't cry. Daisuke wouldn't want that, after all. He protected you – and he protected me."

Shikiki knelt down beside the cold body, resting her hands tentatively against the torn and broken skin.

"They hurt him very much, didn't they." She said softly. "I don't like it that way, Kei-nii. Dai-nii shouldn't have been hurt by anyone. He was kind. And I…I didn't want him to die."

Keitarou bit his lip, then,

"Can you find him? Even a little bit? At all?" He asked slowly, and Shikiki stared at him in surprise.

"Find…him?"

"Find his reiatsu." Keitarou nodded. "And turn it back…can you fix this with your barriers, Shikiki? I remember you once helped a kitten in the village that had fallen down the well and stopped breathing – can you do the same thing now, for Daisuke?"

Shikiki gazed at Daisuke once more, then slowly, shook her head.

"Dai-nii isn't here any more." She said brokenly. "The kitten wasn't breathing, and her heart wasn't beating any more. But she was still there. I could still feel her aura, so I could help her. But this…this isn't Dai-nii now, Kei-nii. This is just rotting flesh an' spirit matter, now. I can't feel any of Dai-nii here at all. I can't find him if he's already gone away."

Keitarou's heart clenched, even though he had already known the answer.

"Then can you at least fix his body, so as he can be buried with more honour than this?" He murmured, and Shikiki swallowed hard.

"It's a very big body." She said doubtfully. "The kitten was very little and it took lots and lots of energy."

She sighed, touching a gentle finger to Daisuke's forehead.

"But I will try." She said at length. "Because I don't like Dai-nii being hurt, either. Even if I can't find him, I don't want him to look broken when he meets the spirit Gods."


Spirit Gods.

Keitarou frowned.

The village superstitions are still things she clings to – foolish and unfounded stories peasants share among themselves. Though I can't even say it, right now, that there is no such thing. Rather that there was, Daisuke, and you had some freedom from this wretched world at last.

As Shikiki spread her hands across the broken body, closing her eyes tight in concentration, Keitarou clenched his own fists, making an inward vow to his old friend.

I'll finish this. You know I will. And then, somehow, I will find Irie and tell her what you did. How her children's father is a hero and a martyr and that she and they should not forget. I promise you, Daisuke. We will win. For your sake, we will!

He hadn't returned yet.

Shunsui gazed out of the window of the Kidou classroom, a pensive expression on his lazy features as he waited for the bell to ring for the start of the lesson.

It was six days since Juushirou had begun training with Shirogane, and in that time he had been late for five classes and three meals, although, well briefed by Genryuusai, none of the teachers had raised any objections and had simply waved him to his seat. Exams were on the horizon, with practical and theoretical tests in all subjects about to rear their ugly heads once more – yet Shunsui had the distinct impression that all staff had been told that Juushirou's sword training was to supersede any and all other studies for the considerable future.

It was not a thought process that Shunsui liked, if he was honest about it, for in the six days since training had begun, he had already seen clearly his friend's exhaustion at the end of a full day.

Still, he had held his tongue, for despite his tiredness Juushirou had soldiered on. The previous night he had been up late, writing his Sakusen assignment up in neat by candlelight, so that it would be handed in with everyone else's in their afternoon class. After that, Shunsui knew, the District boy would be haring off to the training grounds again, to be put through his paces until the bell rang for the evening meal.

He's pretty tough and damn obstinate. I hope not too obstinate. Even though I realise this is important and he has to do it – I hope he's got the sense to see where his limits are and respect them all the same.

Shunsui sighed, resting his chin in his hands as the gong chimed through the halls. At the front of the room, Kazoe was already piling up dusty, uninteresting looking textbooks, tapping his cane on the top of his desk to get the students' attention.

As it is, it's unheard of for me to get to class before the bell and you to not turn up till afterwards. I think I'm quite creeped out by it, to be honest. If nothing else, we must have words about that.

"Ukitake not here yet?" Kazoe's gaze ran across the class, his lips pursing slightly. "But I see everyone else is present."

"Ukitake is training, Sensei." Enishi got to his feet. "He said he'd be here as quick as he can, only Nagoya-senpai normally keeps him until the bell, and…"

"Sorry I'm late, Kazoe-sensei!"

At that moment the door slid back to reveal the missing student, breathless from his dash across the school grounds to the Kidou classroom, and Kazoe offered him a faint smile.

"I have not yet begun, so take your seat and we will not say any more." He said frankly, twitching his cane in the direction of the boy's empty seat. "Houjou, you too. We'll start now."

Juushirou bowed his head hurriedly, moving to sit down among his companions, and as Kazoe turned to the board, Shunsui cast a glance across at his District friend.

Tired, out of breath, and sweating by the bucket-load. I'll at least make sure you get a bath this evening, or at some point between now and bedtime. You need to relax and unwind a little from time to time – and at this rate, your kimono and sandals are going to stink out the whole dormitory in this heat!

A faint smile touched his lips at this observation, but he knew deep down he was only trying to find humour in what was a serious situation.

You're hanging on in there and doing your best, Juu-kun. I know it – we all know it. That's why none of us have said anything. But please don't push it too far. No matter what Nagoya says…make sure you know when to stand up to him and say 'no'.

"Kyouraku, stand."

The sound of his name jerked him back to his senses and he cast Kazoe a startled look, getting slowly to his feet.

"Yes, sir?"

"Last theory lesson we looked at the diversion in the spell releases for Shakkahou and Soukatsui in some detail." Kazoe peered at him over the rims of his spectacles, and Shunsui suspected that the Kidou master knew that his attention had been anywhere but on the lesson. "Obviously the similarity in spell releases indicates they are of the same family. However, three centuries ago a third technique was devised which combined elements of both but which was much more potent and destructive than either of the original two. Do you remember the name of that spell?"

Shunsui smiled wryly.


Fortunately for me, I have a good memory and I can think quickly.

"Souren Soukatsui, sir." He said clearly, and Kazoe's eyes narrowed as he nodded his head.

"And it's classification?"

"Hadou, sir. Rokujuu san." Shunsui paused, then, "No. Nanajuu-san. It's the one which got re-classified after the introduction of Raikouhou."

Kazoe's eyes widened in surprise, and Shunsui felt faintly smug that he had overcome the teacher's trick question.

"Good." Was all Kazoe said now, however. "That's correct. Then can you remind me of the spell's diversion?"

"You want me to try and cast it in the middle of class?" Shunsui raised an eyebrow, and Kazoe snorted, shaking his head.

"Simple recitation of the second half of the spell will be adequate, thank you, Kyouraku." He said pointedly. "Unless you wish to rebuild parts of the school, and possibly parts of your own body into the bargain. Souren Soukatsui is not a spell that second year students should be attempting – not even you. I'm simply asking to make sure you have absorbed it – since sometimes it's hard to know and it is something that will feature in your summer exams."

Shunsui offered the teacher a lazy smile.

"Yes, Sensei." He said casually. "The second half of the spell is enough, then? All right. I think it's something like… 'Souka no kabe ni, souren no kizamo. Taika no fuchi o enten ni tematsu'. Something like that, anyway…pretty sure."

"You think it's something like." Kazoe sighed, shaking his head in resignation. "Very well. You are correct. Sit. Kuchiki?"

"Yes, Sensei?" Ryuu was immediately on his feet, and Shunsui sank gratefully back down into his seat, glad that the question had been such an easy one. As Ryuu began a long and tedious explanation on the many occasions when Soukatsui and Souren Soukatsui might be used in a battle situation, he found himself beginning to tune his classmate out as his focus returned to Juushirou's state of health.

He was concentrating on the class, Shunsui could see that – taking notes and listening intently. But there was a tiredness in his aura that had not been there before, and despite himself, Shunsui was worried by it.

But he doesn't like me protecting him and I'm probably overreacting. Oh well. For the time being, all I can do is leave it to him.

Shunsui sighed, turning his attention with some difficulty back to the class as Kazoe began scribing characters on the board.

"As you've all become aware in your practical lessons, Hadou spells even of a low classification require a certain amount of spiritual control to fire accurately." He said crisply. "Breaking down those incantations into their component parts is one of the best and most effective ways to achieve this. At your level, there should be no time when you fire a spell without the incantation, therefore I will be looking very hard to ensure you are all word perfect on all of the ones learnt so far when it comes to the summer examinations."

He paused to eye Enishi meaningfully.

"You included, Houjou. Your Kidou has made significant improvements since first beginning practical lessons, but it is still woefully inadequate in certain areas. Kidou is not a subject which you can afford to make mistakes in, so please take special care to revise your spell incantations thoroughly before the summer tests."

"Yes, Sensei." Enishi reddened, offering the teacher a rueful smile. "I'll do my best."

Kazoe nodded, then turned back to the board, scribing three additional kanji in chalk on the smooth surface.

"From tomorrow's practical class, we will be learning to fire a new spell." He said frankly. "This one you should all already recognise the name of if you've done your assigned reading. Ukitake?"

Juushirou's head shot up, and Kazoe smiled.

"I'm sure you at least are familiar with this spell." He said softly. "Would you like to remind everyone about it?"

"Y…yes, Sensei." Juushirou got hurriedly to his feet, nodding his head. "It's Hadou no Juuichi – Tsuzuri Raiden."

"Quite so." Kazoe agreed. "Anything else?"

"It's an elemental spell, Sensei. It channels lightning energy into whatever object the caster t…touches."

Juushirou's slight hesitation was not lost on Shunsui, nor the deep breath he took into his lungs as he composed himself.

"So it is." Kazoe gestured for Juushirou to sit down. "Unlike Byakurai, which, as the name suggests takes the form of a white lightning bolt, Tsuzuri Raiden is generally used as a way of charging other objects with a purer form of what is known as 'electric' energy."

He tapped his stick against the kanji.

"However, it is still a storm-type elemental Kidou, as you can clearly see by the choice of kanji. Tsuzuri, indicating the binding nature of energy to object, and Raiden, indicated the type of energy used."

His gaze flitted across the classroom.

"Edogawa – give out the text books please…I want everyone to look over page sixty two."

Mitsuki immediately got to her feet to obey the instruction, though as she did so Shunsui caught her fleeting, anxious glance in Juushirou's direction. The white-haired boy was oblivious, but at the sight of it, Shunsui found his misgivings growing.

Mitsuki feels it too, which means I'm not imagining it. Juu hasn't complained of feeling ill since he began training, but…for her to look at him like that…maybe I need to keep a closer watch on this than I thought.

His was the final desk Mitsuki reached and, as she set the last book down on the smooth wooden surface, she met his gaze, conveying her uncertainty without even saying a word. She hesitated for a moment, then, very discreetly, she slipped her fingers into the sleeve of her hakamashita, pulling out a small sachet and setting it down on the desk, hidden from view by the hefty tome.

"For Ukitake-kun." She murmured, as he looked at her in surprise. "He won't take it from me…but I think…he may need it."

"Mitsuki-chan…" Shunsui's eyes widened, and she offered him a faint smile.

"Just herbs, for fatigue." She assured him. "And if his chest is hurting, they'll soothe that too."

With that she was gone, and Shunsui bit his lip, eying the sachet and then the young healer in wonder.

I see. So you've become stubborn too, Mitsuki-chan. You've made up your mind to keep looking out for him even as he's made up his mind to protect you from the worst.

A faint smile touched his lips.

Seems to me like you two are a better match than even I realised you were. You're quite tough deep down too, after all – I'm glad to see it. I guess it just remains to be seen which of you is the more stubborn – and who breaks first.

He stretched his hand idly across the desk, flipping the book open with the fingers of his left while sliding the sachet away and under the wood surface with his right.

He probably wouldn't take it from me either, especially since he'd know right away from where I'd got it. But that's all right. We don't have to discuss it - I'll see it gets into his tea this evening either way. He did say he wanted us to back him up – and there's no sense in creating arguments over it. What he doesn't know won't hurt him – and if it helps him to get through this, so much to the good!

Author's Note:


Souren Soukatsui.
For anyone who reads the manga and watches the anime, and is as much of a geek as me, you;ll know that Souren Soukatsui has two different numbers. In the manga it is labelled Rokujuu San (#63) which is the same number given to Raikouhou in another scene. The anime compensated for this by renumbering it Nanajuu-san (#73) hence Shunsui's talk about reclassification. I like to be relevant.
The start of all three mentioned spells - Shakkahou, Soukatsui and Souren Soukatsui - is the same to the half-way point, after which the incantation for each one is different. Yep, Kidou geekness ftw.

Mamorubeki Mono.
The title of this chapter means, roughly "Those one should protect."


Also, Arigatou Gozaimasu to Val-sensei for his help with Shirogane and Juu's swordishness.