Chapter Twenty Seven: Justice of the Twin Fish

A month had passed, and still there was no further progress.

Clenching his fists to control his frustration, Keitarou paced across the dingy dungeon workspace, pausing only to glance at the sleeping form of his adoptive charge curled up in a corner of the room. She had little more than rags and a blanket to make her comfortable, yet she preferred to sleep near where he was working, and Keitarou had not objected, knowing that at least she was within easy reach of him should he for any reason need her.

Besides, she was afraid of Seimaru, he knew that as well. Seimaru was both Endou and Shinigami - the two groups who had persecuted Shikiki's family and village.

And, of course, who had killed Daisuke.

Keitarou's eyes narrowed at this memory, and he muttered a curse, forcing the surge of rage back.

It would not do to act irresponsibly, simply for want of patience.

But a month had passed and still nothing more had happened.

He leant up against the cool stone of the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he contemplated his recent studies. In the month since Seimaru had last come to him, he had carried out many experiments. Several local peasants, given up by their families in hope of protection from the Endou blade had been tested on and discarded as their mutated bodies twisted and warped out of shape, their skin bubbling and spitting like boiling white magma as it had slipped and coated their mangled forms in patchy sections of hardened shell. But they had all died quickly, and they had none of them manifested the kind of reaction Keitarou had hoped for.

They were all too raw and untrained. They had no control to begin with, therefore experimentation was futile. They would rage out of control the moment the solution meshed with their system - for they were men and women without spells or blades, and had no idea what they were wielding.

Keitarou sighed.

For that, he needed a Shinigami.

But there, again, his work stalled.

Despite Seimaru's off-handed remark about his Grandfather, both of them knew only too well that Shinigami were Clansfolk, and Clansfolk were protected by their families. To abduct an existing Shinigami would be tantamount to an act of war - to even take one of Shouichi's own would make the already far too alert old man suspicious. Perhaps he would become suspicious enough to turn on his grandson and cut off Keitarou's source of influence in the Seventh District court - and even more, maybe he would finally discover Keitarou himself.

This was unthinkable, Keitarou knew. He could not be touched by Shouichi yet. Not until he had everything else straight in his mind. When the time was right, he would go to the Endou Lord and he would not leave the man alive. But that still had to be planned with painstaking precision. He had to protect Seimaru, after all, for Seimaru was still useful to him for now.

And so he was back to his initial conundrum. He needed a Shinigami, and yet there were no Shinigami he could pluck from the world without inciting the wrath and hatred of the Noble Houses. He knew, for Seimaru had told him, that the Council had discussed him and his people and their underground, outlaw way of life. Things were too dangerous, and so he waited - but would he wait forever?

He grimaced, his gaze falling once more on Shikiki's slumbering form.

At least he still had her. At least, day by day his training with her was yielding slow but positive results. She had not saved Daisuke, but even so, he could see the improvement in both her resolve and her ability since the death of his kinsman. She would become yet stronger too, he knew that.

He turned back to his work notes, glancing over the pages of spidery, almost unintelligible scrawl.

For the time being, he would focus his energy on her, and he would wait. An opportunity would come, after all. A chance would beckon him, just as it always did. All he had to do was be patient. It would come.

He clenched his fists once again.

And when it did, he would be ready.

It was a cloudy day, the skies heavy and overcast as a fine spitting sheen of rain began to fall over the school grounds.

Juushirou's grip on his asauchi tightened as he raised his gaze to the heavens. He could see next to no blue now, in a sky that had been up till two days earlier clear and blemish free while the sun blazed down merrily. But summer was moving towards autumn now, and the first storms had begun to creep into District One as a result, cooling the stifling atmosphere and breaking up the heavy air with gentle, refreshing breezes.

Despite himself, Juushirou was glad. The heat had been difficult to train in, but in the time since the summer break had ended three weeks earlier, he had found himself much more easily conserving energy, able to keep moving for longer and at better speed than he had done so during the unrelenting heatwave.

He was a winter baby, after all, and at times like this it showed.

He and Mitsuki had spent much of the break together, although they had seldom been alone and they had not discussed again the things they had talked about beneath the tree. They had remained friends on the outside, though Juushirou knew that deep down his emotions were still cluttered and confused where his gentle classmate was concerned. As a result he had doubled his focus on his sword training, determined to work off the uncertainty through his sessions with the demanding Shirogane. Consequently his skills had continued to improve at a startling rate, and Shirogane had even begun releasing his weapon during the sessions, a fact which Juushirou had taken as an unspoken compliment to his own dedication.

He had not spoken to Shunsui about the kiss, nor did he intend to, but to his surprise and relief Shunsui had not asked him any questions nor teased him about the time spent while he had been at home in District Eight. Instead he had returned with news about his brother and his new potential sister in law, and Juushirou had allowed the conversation to flow that way, knowing it was easier not to have the questions asked of him at all.

And it was not only that. Shunsui had returned to the school with the same grins and greetings as ever, yet Juushirou knew him best of everyone and Juushirou had picked up something new and different in his classmate's aura. He had pondered on it for a while, but had decided not to press the issue - waiting for the time when Shunsui chose to speak of it himself. That something significant had happened in District Eight, Juushirou was sure - yet in the time since his return, Shunsui had mentioned neither Urahara nor anything else of any consequence about his visit to his home.

Still, Juushirou did not feel uneasy. On the contrary, he knew he trusted Shunsui, and that, if it was something he could talk about, at some time he invariably would. And so things had slipped back into normal routine with the minimum amount of fuss. It was, Juushirou reflected, as though the summer break had never happened at all, and in some ways, he knew this was for the best.

"Well?"

Shirogane lowered his weapon, gazing at his student in irritation. "Are you so bothered by a little rain that you want to stop and run for shelter?"

"No, Senpai." Juushirou shook his head, hurriedly bringing himself back to the matter at hand as he met the older boy's gaze. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking that we might have a storm - and I suppose I got distracted for a moment."

"If you let the weather distract you that easily, you'll never spot the enemy until he kills you." Shirogane said cuttingly, his left hand already hovering over the guard of his weapon as he prepared to release it. "So I'll give you something to think about, and see how much attention you're paying. If you don't concentrate, you'll wind up getting hurt - and I won't warn you again."

His fingers glittered with silver light, then,

"Saite, Ginkyoujiki." He commanded, as his weapon fragmented into shards of light, spinning across the air towards his student like the razor-sharp petals of a deadly yet beautiful silver flower. They moved at speed, guided by the silver energy that still coated Shirogane's fingertips, yet by this time Juushirou was used to the technique, and his eyes had adjusted to the quick movement his companion's zanpakutou relied on to do its worst damage. The first time, he reflected, even as he swung his blade up, casting Seki across it to act as a shield before darting across the ground towards his companion, he had simply stared at the shards in fright, knowing that dodging them would be almost impossible without the use of shunpo. But as time had gone by, he had become accustomed to Shirogane's style - the brief pause before his release, the angle at which the shards span and, most significantly, that only one side of the blade was sharp enough to cut his skin. As soon as he had realised this, Juushirou had been able to avoid the thrust of the attack, and by getting behind the weapon's main threat he had been able to counter attack, forcing his companion to reform his blade in order to defend himself.

That Shirogane was not using the full level of his ability, Juushirou knew only too well. Had he wanted to, the boy was sure his shishou would be quite capable of slicing him to ribbons with the ruthless nature of his key technique. Yet even so, Juushirou felt he had learnt a lot from facing Ginkyoujiki.

Because it's about how you fight, not the strength of your opponent, of course.

In had told him gently, when he had spoken to his fish after a previous training session.

The strategy you use is as important as your ability - you can't win the battle based on force alone.

Juushirou had remembered this, for Minabe had also taught them something similar, and now, at last, he was beginning to put those things to good use.

The rain was shearing down now, as the heavens opened to pour their contents unrelentingly down on the two training students. Shirogane's normally neat tail of dark hair was slick, stray wisps plastered to his face as he raised his weapon for a fresh attack, but despite the soaking, the older student did not see even the tiniest bit phased by the change in weather conditions. Visibility would suit him now, Juushirou realised, for in the driving rain it would be far more difficult to see the fragments of Ginkyoujiki's dangerous blade. He would have to use all of his wits and his reiatsu to counter them, and he tensed instinctively, preparing himself for the onslaught that he felt sure would come. So deep was his concentration that he too soon forgot about being cold or wet, and even though rainwater ran off his arms and caused his hakama to cling to his legs, his only thought was on his shishou's next decisive move.

Overhead, the clouds grumbled together, a faint rumble of thunder echoing out across the valley and over the land beyond. All the other students would probably be inside, now, yet Shirogane and Juushirou remained where they were, neither one of them caring that an autumn storm was on the horizon.

And then, through the haze, Juushirou saw the faintest flicker of a smile twitch at Shirogane's lips.

"Magare, Ginkyoujiki." He whispered, and at once, instead of spinning out as tiny razor blades, his weapon stretched and twisted, curling itself around into a conical spiral as it continued to hum and glitter with silver light. Juushirou stared at it for a moment, unsure what to make of this new and unknown ability, but Shirogane did not give his student any time to analyse it. Thrusting the palm of his hand against the hilt of his weapon, he exclaimed.

"Hadou no Juuichi! Tsuzuri Raiden!"

And then Juushirou understood. As the electric energy made contact with the weapon's reiatsu it spun out around the coiled metal, creating a field of live energy. Though it had begun as gold, the dense magnetic aura of Shirogane's blade turned the light to silver, and at that moment the older boy flung his left hand out in Juushirou's direction, a look of triumph and expectation in his clever grey eyes.

At his gesture, the condensed energy shot out in a blaze of silver, a flare made stronger and denser by the electric field Shirogane had used as a net to snare and condense the spell with his own distinct reiatsu. Instead of using Tsuzuri Raiden to simply charge his weapon, he had corrupted and manipulated the spell to suit his own zanpakutou's strengths, and for a moment Juushirou was stunned, struggling to understand what his senior had done. To him, Tsuzuri Raiden was still a relatively new spell, and he had never seen it used in that manner before. Yet Shirogane had had no hesitation, and as the flare burned towards him, Juushirou realised with sudden fear that it was heading straight for him - and more, in this soaking, merciless rain, its effects would be amplified the moment it drew close to him.

And then, overhead, the sky split with a burst of golden lightning.

Caught between the blast from Shirogane's sword and nature's own answering battle cry, Juushirou felt his grasp slipping against the hilt of his asauchi, his reiryoku instinctively flaring up inside of him as fear and panic threatened to take control of his body. He was trapped, confused, disorientated, frightened...the two sudden blasts had sent him into a spin and though he tried to move, he found that he could not make a coherent instruction pass from his mind to his shaking, freezing legs.

If you panic, Juu-kun, you'll lose the fight.

It was You's voice that spoke to him, soft and yet firm as it broke though the haze of Juushirou's rising hysteria.

The storm belongs to you. The air belongs to you. Everything belongs to you, if you only find your nerve and hold it there.

Juushirou took a shaky breath into his lungs, struggling to understand. Time seemed to have stopped still, or at least be moving very slowly, for it appeared as though several minutes had passed since Shirogane had fired his attack. Yet it had only been a matter of seconds, and as the lightning hit across it, it flared and danced, blazing towards Juushirou's body with a new ferocity and drive.

Don't try to run from it. You can't run from it. Take it instead, and use it as your own.

He could hear You's voice again, even as the heavens rumbled their displeasure and the heat of the blast brushed against the edges of Juushirou's aura.

"It's going to kill me." He whispered, and then he was aware of the swish of waves, the distinctive and comforting presence of both his fish hovering just beyond his line of sight.

Believe in yourself. And in us, Juushirou.

That was In.

We told you we wouldn't let you die. If you trust us, then leave it in our hands.

This time You, and as the fish spoke, Juushirou felt something else rise up inside of him - a resolve and determination unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was his power, he knew it, yet it was also foreign and different, for it did not burn or sear against his senses the way it had in the past and he did not feel the urge to choke on fire and blood as it surged its way through his system. Instead, even as the lightning kidou flare hit him, it seemed to pale in comparison to whatever was growing within him. As his whole world became a blaze of white light and glittering shadows, he heard three words whispered almost inaudible against the noise of the storm.

Yet he did hear them, and in the moment that he did, he understood what they were. Giddy with this knowledge, he clung to them greedily, forcing apart his lips as he struggled to make them known to the world.

"Sougyo..."

He faltered, as pain began to jar at his senses. It was too much, his body told him. There was too much electricity, too much energy...how could he ever hope to deflect such a huge amount of power and live? Yet still he felt the gentle touch of In and You at his side, and he forced the panic away, again focusing on what they had tried to tell him.

Speak our name, and we will protect you. Do it now, before its too late.

The words resounded like thunder through his adrenalin charged mind, and he gathered his resolve, forcing his will through the cloud of energy and reiatsu that currently engulfed him.

"Sougyo...no...Kotowari!"

He gasped out, and in an instant, the pain and confusion began to dissipate as instead a sense of calm and of strength washed over his fragile body. For the first time he found he was able to move and instinctively he swung the asauchi up through the middle of the engulfing electricity to try to sweep it into two, a sharp, juddering sensation racing through it and into the core of his body as he did so. Rain still poured down as the asauchi blade sizzled and glowed, splitting into cracks as from deep within it burst the glitter of eerie spectral flames. Yet although it was growing hotter all around him, engulfed by invisible waves of reiatsu and the sound of the swirling sea Juushirou was no longer afraid.

Within a split-second a bright, dazzling flare shot back out across the ground as though he had somehow deflected the combined lightning blast, engulfing two small storage sheds nearby and destroying them to rubble in an instant simply by the force of the uncontrolled energy. For a moment Juushirou revelled in the feeling of invincibility and then, as exhaustion crashed in, he stumbled, falling to his knees on the muddy, light-scorched ground.

Something fell from his grip as he did so, a trailing glitter of light surrounding it as it split itself free from within the dead asauchi's hollow blade. The asauchi itself had been destroyed, warped, scorched and rent apart into mangled pieces by the heat of the electricity outside and the surge of power that had flooded through from within. Yet, despite the destruction that had been wreaked upon his original weapon, the object that fell at Juushirou's side was unblemished, the rain running across its perfect, silver-smooth surface and onto the ground below.

It was as though, in that instant, and in the clash of lightning and rain something new had been born – something with its own buzzing awareness and consciousness even from the dark depths of the shallow, soulless training tool.

But for now, Juushirou was too dazed to properly grasp this fact. All he knew was that the lightning had hit him and, thanks to the protection of his fish spirits, he had lived. The glimmering object seemed to call for him, almost like a newborn baby uttering its first infant cry, and as its immature, shifting reiatsu brushed against Juushirou's ragged own, he felt the bond between them reforming and growing once more. It was a part of him – it had poured from within him and flared its energy out into the storm-soaked training arena. And somehow Juushirou felt comforted, knowing almost by instinct that it would remain with him now for the rest of his life. The bond was, after all, an unbreakable one. In those few chaotic moments, it had burnt into him, tattooing its mark even into his blood.

The intensity of it had taken his breath away, and yet, as before, he did not feel as though he was about to cough. His heart, rattling and haphazard from the jolting current still beat like thunder inside his skull, every pounding blow resounding through the whole of his body until he wondered whether others might be able to hear it even from a distance away. Yet even beyond it, he could still hear the gentle rise and swell of ghostly waves – and somewhere, see the shimmering flashes of two fish as they dived beneath its depths. His inner world had replaced the real world in clarity and focus for the briefest of instants…and then, just as suddenly as it had come, it was fading away, leaving him once more in the rain-battered training ground.

"Ukitake!"

From somewhere around him, Juushirou was aware of Shirogane's voice, sounding uncharacteristically concerned as a blur of white and blue shifted through the haze towards him. The senior was at his side in a moment, pausing to pick up the mangled remains of the asauchi, then,

"Dammit, you idiot, what were you thinking? Standing still like a fool while my attack flares at you and the lightning surges from above? What were you trying to play at? People have been killed by less!"

He was worried, Juushirou realised absently. The proud, selfish, austere Shirogane was actually worried about him, and somehow, despite the magnitude of the occasion, this struck the District boy as funny.

"Senpai?" He managed, putting his hands out against the ground to steady his shaking body as he gazed up at the other boy's tense form. His own uniform was in tatters, he noticed, charred and destroyed by the blast so as the ragged fabric only just covered his body, and now the ice cold rain was running against his bare skin.

Shirogane tossed the broken weapon pieces away, crouching down in front of his student as he did so.

"We're done for today." He said abruptly. "If you can't dodge an attack like that, Ukitake, we've still got a long way to go. How you even survived it is a miracle...I never meant my blast to merge with a lightning bolt, but I did at least expect you to try and avoid it."

Juushirou swallowed hard, his consciousness hazy and indistinct, then at length he said,

"It wasn't...for me...to dodge."

"Then you intended it to hit you?" Shirogane was incredulous. "What in hell were you playing at? You could have been killed!"

Juushirou shook his head slowly and painfully.

"My fish...protected me." He whispered, stretching out his hand gingerly to brush against the object that had fallen at his side. It was still calling to him, he knew, and although he was still dazed and disorientated, his impulse was still to make contact with it, reassuring both it and himself that they had come through the battle and survived.

"They told me...they wouldn't let me die...if I...trusted them. And..."

He faltered, and as Shirogane's gaze followed his student's movement, he let out a curse, reaching out to grab up the shining weapon and staring at it in disbelief.

"But...this...when did you...how did you..."

"Sougyo...no...Kotowari." Juushirou managed faintly. "That's...what my fish...are called."

And with that his vision swayed for the last time, engulfing him in blackness. As he fell forward onto the rain-soaked earth, he was sure that he could still feel the warm gazes of his two fish spirits watching over him. Though he was too ragged to really understand what he had done, a sense of security still washed over him.

So long as they're with me, I won't die. So long as I trust in them, I won't die. So long as I remember...and I'll always remember. The most important thing of all.


That my fish have a name. A special name that they told me.


Sougyo no Kotowari.

From now on, that name belongs with me. From now on...

And as the sea reached him, taking him down deeper and deeper into his own consciousness, Juushirou let go of any attempts at coherent thought, allowing himself to sink to the bottom.

For now, the battle was over. He could rest, and should rest. When he woke, after all...the fight would no doubt begin all over again.

The next thing he knew he was surrounded by white, and as he opened his eyes, blinking hazily to bring everything into clear focus, he realised that he was once more within the school's Healing Bay. Yet, instead of it being the familiar shape of Retsu or her more recent apprentice at his side, he saw the aging form of his headmaster, wizened hand resting on the wooden staff of Ryuujinjakka as he quietly waited for his student to return to full consciousness.

At last, when the silence seemed to be going on forever, the old man spoke.

"Well, Juushirou."

Just those two words, but they were enough to tell the boy that he had made Genryuusai pleased, and he managed a faint smile of his own. He did not attempt to move from his pillows, for his body felt heavy as lead and he knew that even if he had wanted to, he would not currently be able to lift himself even into a sitting position. He wanted to sleep – needed to sleep – but yet he forced his eyes to stay open as Genryuusai rested his free hand on Juushirou's shoulder.

"You have worked very hard." He said now, his tones muted so as not to jar the boy's head too much, and Juushirou realised belatedly that he had probably been through this situation with many of his students in the past. "Very hard indeed, and I am proud of you. You understand, don't you, what you've done? You remember, I think, the storm?"

At this, thunder once more crashed through Juushirou's mind, and slowly he nodded his head.

"Sougyo no…Kotowari." He whispered, and Genryuusai's lips twitched into a smile beneath his heavy moustache. He released his grip on Juushirou's shoulder, reaching across to lift something off the unit beside the bed, and carefully he set it down across the bedcovers so that Juushirou could see it without having to move.

"As you say." He murmured. "A sword of balance and of righteousness. A fitting blade, I think, for one that has so much to give this world."

"S…sensei?"

Juushirou stared at his mentor, more aware now even as his fingers were automatically drawn towards the weapon's exposed silver blade. It still hummed and called to him, even in its sealed state, and though Juushirou was a little afraid of it, he also knew he did not want to be parted from the weapon ever again. It was a part of him – not just a sword to wield but a weapon that extended from within his own self. It had been crafted by his fish to help him in his battles – and he knew that just as they had given him their true name, he had given them his trust.

Genryuusai's smile widened.

"It is abnormal, you know, for a student to achieve this in his second year." He observed casually, making himself more comfortable beside the bed. "More so, even, that you have only trained for it so intensely for a matter of mere months. You have a very natural talent, Juushirou. A very keen instinct and a desire to work hard. Nagoya has also said the same to me – that your work ethic has been unquestionable from the start of your training till your exploits in the field two days ago. You have managed to do your family proud – your late Father would be happy indeed, I think."

"Two days?" Juushirou wet his lips, looking startled, and Genryuusai nodded.

"You've slept since then." He said matter-of-factly. "It's not uncommon, since you used a tremendous amount of your strength to summon your sword and to protect yourself from the storm. Most students do, after they summon their weapon – one or two for almost a week together, you know, so in comparison you've roused up fairly swiftly. You'll remain here, though, till your full strength returns. I won't take chances with your physical weaknesses – and the best thing you can do is rebuild your energy by eating well and sleeping deeply."

"There was a storm. The lightning…and…it hit me…and…"

Juushirou faltered, for the electrified haze of memories were too confusing and too vivid for him to piece together into the right order.

"Nagoya thought you somehow deflected it – but from the way he described it, I'm not so sure." Genryuusai replied. "But for the time being, that can wait. You lack control yet, and that is an important factor, too. What I do know for certain is that your training is not yet completed. In truth, it has barely begun."

He let out a low chuckle, then,

"If I let you loose now with no further guidance, you may manage to break apart more than just a couple of disused storage shacks – and that would be somewhat troublesome for your fellow students, as well as for me when facing my family and explaining the damages."

"I…damaged something?" Juushirou looked stricken, and Genryuusai shook his head.

"Nothing you could have helped." He said simply. "Why do you suppose the training ground is so far from the school building? Many, many students release their swords and cause damage to their immediate surroundings. It's so normal an occurrence that we expect it and take it into account when choosing students to mentor others."

"Nagoya-senpai said you chose him to teach me because none of the others would be able to stand up to my t…toxic reiatsu." Juushirou remembered, and Genryuusai smiled.

"Yes. He's probably correct in that." He reflected. "He is the best Senior student in this area and so he should be, considering the promise that he has and the expectations heaped on him. He has not let either you or I down, and I am pleased with it. But…"

He paused, then tapped Ryuujinjakka's cane.

"When you rise from here, Juushirou, you will report to my office directly." He said quietly. "You are a second year, and your power is dangerous even now. I will, therefore, teach you to control that power a little more successfully – to steady your thoughts and instincts before you reach out to the weapon you now hold. A zanpakutou is not like an asauchi, after all. It will react to you – your emotions, your strengths and eventually your commands. As time goes on, the bond between you will grow stronger and more intuitive – but for now, simply learning how to release the weapon without causing damage is the first step. We will work on that together, since…I don't believe you yet know, do you, the words to release your blade?"

"The…release?" Juushirou looked nonplussed. "But…its name…is not…enough?"

"No." Genryuusai shook his head. "In the heat of battle, your instincts surged and your sword was born in order to protect you. But it was just that. Instinct. You've not had the occasion to see many zanpakutou yet – so there are undoubtedly many things you haven't learnt. But cast your mind over the ones you have seen, Juushirou…what do all of them have, as well as a name, before they unleash their attack? Nagoya's, for example. What of his?"

Juushirou frowned, forcing his tired brain to cooperate, then,

"Saite." He murmured. "Before he called its name, that's what he said, to split Ginkyoujiki into shards. And he also had…something else, but I don't remember what."

"And perhaps, the weapon of your Kidou master? Do you remember then, how he commanded his blade to rescue you all at the campsite?" Genryuusai questioned.

"Something to do with air." Juushirou dug deep into his memories, then, "Sui…konde? I think?"

"Quite correct." Genryuusai seemed pleased. "Even in such a tired and dazed state these things have made an impression on you."

He sat back, eying the boy pensively.

"People like to look for patterns in zanpakutou, but it is not always possible to build patterns out of things crafted by individual souls." He said at length. "Every sword has things in common, but they are all also different. Nagoya's blade releases in two distinct ways even in Shikai – it blooms or it curves, depending on his command. That he has such flexibility even at this level indicates he will probably get stronger – and develop higher levels along the way. Kazoe's is different again – it has the command 'inhale', and as a healing weapon it is not designed to do material damage. In order to use it in combat, Kazoe augmented his kidou proficiency to a superior level and learnt to combine it with the non-hostile releases to create attacks."

"And…Sensei…your zanpakutou?" Juushirou was becoming more alert now, despite his tiredness, as his natural desire to learn overtook his drowsiness.

Genryuusai smiled.

"If I was to release my sword here, the whole of this wing would likely burn down." He said softly. "Perhaps the whole school, if I was careless. Ryuujinjakka is not the kind of weapon to be drawn out and released in front of students – not even ones of the highest level. To protect everyone from its reiatsu, therefore, it lives sealed within this cane."

"That…is your zanpakutou?" Juushirou's eyes almost fell out of his head, and Genryuusai nodded.

"It is, and that you had not realised it proves that my shield is doing its job." He said lightly. "My reiatsu is old, after all – long trained and far in excess of most other Shinigami. Ryuujinjakka is a fire sword, and one of some vintage – one with the potential to turn the whole world to ash if I should so wish it."

"The whole world…to…ash?" Fleeting memories of Seimaru's Yojinmozu flickered into Juushirou's mind and he stared at his companion, aghast.

"Yes." Genryuusai agreed evenly. "And in that is the biggest lesson. If I so wished it, I could destroy everything around me and leave the ashes smouldering for years after the battle was over. But I do not wish it. I do not use my strength in such ways as that. My weapon is not a weapon for ambition or destruction. It is a tool for defending Soul Society and my trusted partner in battle. You must make your sword the same for you – else you will still cause danger to those around you. You are not of the temperament that would wish harm, and I do not worry that you will be corrupted by greed or power. But you have strength regardless, and you will need control. Do you understand, Juushirou? The most powerful swords are the ones who sleep the longest and only strike when the time is right."

"I think…I understand." Juushirou murmured, and Genryuusai sighed.

"All these things I teach the fourth year students." He said resignedly. "But for you, that will be far too late. Your studies are not of an all round enough level to consider you as one of them – your education is still inferior to theirs, even though you have broken through this barrier and called your sword forth. So I must teach you independently – and I will try to do so, as best I can."

He patted the blade, and although he had not touched Juushirou directly, the boy felt a flicker of awareness shoot through him as though his sword was telling him of the old man's presence.

"We'll find the key to unlock this properly." He said quietly. "And until then, you are forbidden from trying to do so. Until we know how to control your release, you cannot – will not – unleash that power on anybody. Even though this is yours and I will not try and take it from you – even so, you must understand that until we have found that key, you must continue to train in class with an asauchi and not with Sougyo no Kotowari. Do you understand?"

A faint flicker of disappointment, followed by resignation washed over Juushirou's soul and he nodded his head.

"Yes, sir." He said softly. "But…then I'm to keep training? But…"

"You'll return to Ouyoudou with your year group and work hard at your technique, since Nagoya says you show promise but lack finesse." Genryuusai said quietly. "In the evenings, I will see you in my office immediately following dinner and until it is time for you to sleep. For the duration of that time, Sougyo no Kotowari should be with you – to strain a bond so fragile and newly formed would be a terrible mistake, after all. But second years are not permitted to carry even asauchi on campus as a matter of course, let alone zanpakutou. Therefore during the day your sword must rest in your dormitory – and only in the evening, when you come to see me, may you bring it out."

Another pause, then,

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"I know you do." Genryuusai got to his feet. "In which case, I will leave you to rest. When Retsu-dono sees fit to release you, come to see me. We will work out the best schedule then for you to fully reach out and understand your blade."

Author's Note: Shirogane's zanpakutou


Ginkyoujiki 銀強磁気
Silver Strength Magnetic Spirit.

Yes, Shirogane's power, unlike Byakuya's, is control of metal and specifically magnetism and magnetic fields. He therefore uses electricity and his weapon together to create the kind of blast he fired at JUU!!(!!! -_-) But because Shirogane also has that Kuchiki elegance, and that blood link to Byakuya, I wanted him to have a fragmented sword, too. Unlike Byakuya's petals, which are controlled psychically, Shirogane's are controlled by magnetic reiatsu in the form of silver light emanating from his non-sword hand (left). Saite (Bloom) and Magare (Bend or Curve) are his two known shikai commands. Whether he has any more...who knows...?

As mentioned before, the silver comes from his name, Shirogane, which uses the same kanji.


Sougyo no Kotowari
For anyone who doesn't know, this Chapter's title is the translation of Juushirou's sword's name.