Due to the rising demand for a place to train safely in Karakura Town, Kisuke had renovated the training grounds and spring underneath his humble little shop to be more accommodating to every one of his loyal customers. He had managed to expand his already large basement to a huge underground training facility, capable of containing a Shikai brawl between six captain-level spiritual beings without it disturbing the weak Souls above ground.

There was a hallway separating the training grounds from the ladder and other needed facilities so people training didn't have to worry about visitors and visitors didn't have to worry about getting hurt. There was now a spectator room where you could watch the training grounds live from various points of view and even rewind and pause for research and feedback purposes, there was a small lab/medical bay to heal up any injuries whenever Orihime wasn't present, and there was now a completely decked out Onsen to help people unwind and recover after training.

Kisuke hadn't spared any expenses for the Onsen. There were separate cubicles to shower and dress in private, a spacious spring to relax and heal up in, lockers for each regular visitor to keep their personal products and belongings safe, and even a vanity for those who liked to put some extra care into their appearance.

Getsu rushed past Tensa once they passed the threshold of the Onsen, claiming the first cubical and shutting the door quickly but quietly behind him. Tensa just shook his head and followed, grabbing one of the guest bathrobes from the hooks near the door as he went. The sound of running water filled the room and Tensa made his way to the next cubical, throwing the bathrobe up to hang it over the door of Getsu's shower before claiming his own.

It didn't take Tensa very long to clean himself up. After all, unlike his counterpart, he hadn't partaken in any massacres; or any fights like their wielder had. Whatever blood and grime had gotten on him had been from Ichigo when Tensa had reattached his hand, meaning mostly his hands and sleeves had been stained.

He was almost done when he heard a snarl coming from the other cubical. Turning the dial to silence the water from his own shower, Tensa paused to see if interference would be necessary. Getsu's Spiritual Pressure was still coiled around him but it had started to fluctuate, no more a dense and smooth aura but a sphere of snakes that slithered around in agitation.

Tensa reached out with his own Pressure to test the waters, a silent query about the source of the other's frustration. At first, Getsu pushed him away with soft snarls and growls telling him to mind his own business. Tensa pulled back slightly but didn't back down, keeping his Pressure there in case the Other changed his mind. He didn't have to wait very long. Not even a minute later Getsu let out another snarl that morphed into a growl, his Pressure spiking. It reached out and intertwined with Tensa's without a moment of hesitation, giving the Quincy Zanpakutō permission to work his magic.

'May I ask what has riled you up so?' Tensa inquired as he helped the Other calm down.

'... Can't get it out', was the soft response.

Ah, that explained a lot. 'How bad is it?'

'I got it off my skin, I think'.

'Would you be opposed to the idea of me taking a look?'

'...No'.

Tensa ignored the hesitation, 'I will be right with you. I'm almost done'.

There was some grumbling on the other side before the door was opened and heavy fabric fell down to the ground. The irate Pressure simmered down and nudged Tensa with appreciation, making the Quincy Zanpakuto smile fondly and he resumed his shower.

His other half had already claimed one of the stools by the time Tensa exited the cubical. Getsu had the bathrobe wrapped tightly around himself to keep the heat of the shower contained, sitting hunched over on the stool facing the mirror. His back was turned, giving Tensa a clear answer as to why Getsu had been so frustrated. Dark brown stained the tresses that flowed down from the nape of the neck, over the clothed back, and onto the tiled floor with only small patches here and there where the original colour could still be discerned. While Getsu had managed to get the pieces of viscera and dried-up bits of blood out of his hair, the gore had left a residue behind that did not wash out as easily. Which, judging by the knots and tangles, wasn't due to the lack of trying.

Securing the towel around his waist with a few strings of condensed Spiritual Energy, Tensa loosened his vice grip on his Pressure and allowed it to roam free within the room as he walked over to his counterpart. 'Somehow, you've made even more of a mess of yourself'.

Getsu glared at Tensa's approaching reflection in the mirror in front of him, lips pulled into a snarl that showed pearly white and overtly sharp teeth. Contrary to the low growl that now echoed in the room, Getsu responded with greed at the first wisp of Pressure that reached his senses. He pulled and tugged at it like a starving animal until he had it wrapped around himself as tightly as his own.

'I will need to touch your hair', Tensa said more out of clarity than necessity. 'Are you comfortable with that?'

'Does it matter?' Getsu murmured, narrowed golden irises staring at the blue in the mirror. 'Ain't got much of a choice if yer that set on staying in Bankai'.

'Even so, if you rather have Ichigo I can—'

'Aibō's got other things ta worry 'bout', Getsu interjected. He shifted a bit, fingers pulling the soft fabric of the bathrobe tighter around himself. 'Just…try not ta pull'.

Like you did last time.

Tensa nodded, more to himself than in response to his other half. He was going to do his damn hardest to make this as painless of an experience as he could make it. Show him he wasn't the same person he was back then. Prove to him that he would never again stoop as low as he had. That he could be trusted to never betray him like he had, even if it had been unintentional.

Taking a breath to steady himself he reached out to the mess that cascaded down Getsu's back, the weight of his past regressions and present conscience causing his hand to tremble minutely. At the touch of his fingers did Getsu tense and it broke something inside him that his other half had such a visceral reaction to his touch.

'What'cha doing?' Getsu asked with his voice soft and words fast spoken, his Pressure flicking about with unease and frustration.

'I want to see how bad it is', Tensa told as he tried a few strands on the side. 'Depending on the severity of the damage, more care will be required'.

'Ya don't have ta fix it, just clean it', Getsu snapped.

'Why do only one when I can do both simultaneously?'

'Cuz it's prolly gonna take longer. Just wash it and be done with it'.

'You already tried washing it to "be done with it", have you not?' Tensa pointed out. 'If you want it clean it will require a little more than just warm water and soap'.

Getsu grumbled, wrapping the bathrobe tighter around himself in displeasure, putting the seams under even more duress. Tensa ignored it, having finally found what he was looking for he gently freed the small bundle and brought it closer for inspection.

After almost a decade, Tensa had become quite familiar with the texture of Getsu's hair. He knows how it should feel between his fingers when he cards his hand through the white spikes, he had done so plenty of times when they were in their sealed state and First Release. Fresh out of the shower, messed up after a fight, and even after just waking up, Zan had combed his fingers through Getsu's hair in almost, if not, every state it could be in.

Tensa hadn't. Hadn't dared to touch it ever since that day.

'It appears you succeeded in removing the clods', he mused. 'But you've used too much friction and hot water'.

'How do ya even know that?'

'Jaegerjacks', Tensa answered absentmindedly as he gently rubbed the tresses between his index and thumb. 'He went on a whole tirade about it when Ichigo offered his shampoo for him to use a few weeks back'.

'Hn, ta fucker is as vain as he is fun ta fight'.

'Well, his Resurrección is feline', Tensa offered offhandedly. 'It's quite damaged and tangled. It will take me a while to get it all out'.

'Then leave it. It ain't worth the hassle'.

'It is no hassle', Tensa denied. 'It will merely take a bit of time'.

'I don't have the patience fer "a bit of time", you insistent brat', Getsu bit back. 'Let's just seal Bankai and—'

'No!'

Getsu flinched, hands flying up to protect his ears against the panicked echo that lingered in the chamber. The tone and loudness of his own voice had Tensa covering his own mouth in surprise.

'What's with ya today?!' Getsu snarled as he turned around to face the Other. 'Ya've been acting weird with yer hiding and wearing yer hood and shit, what the fuck is up with that?!'

Tensa looked away, hand slowly going down to his chest. 'I…rather not talk about it now'.

'And I rather seal Bankai!' Getsu snapped back. 'So ya better give me a good reason not to or I'll force it'.

'Fine! If you really must know…' Tensa crossed his arms with a huff, 'Do you remember why I was so… averse to being a Zanpakutō?'

'Cuz Quincy are stuck up little shits who got their power from a big piece of shit?'

Tensa frowned though there was some amusement in his eyes, 'My Shikai resembles the person who gave a majority of the Quincy their power and that person has some bad blood with Soul Society'.

Getsu eyed him carefully, 'How bad?'

'The "they have written it down in their history books and teach at the academy" kind of bad'.

The deadpan look combined with the tone had Getsu scoff with mirth, 'Che, so the fucker waged a war'.

Tensa hummed in confirmation.

'Can't say I blame 'im', Getsu hummed. 'How long ago are we talkin' about?'

'My guess is around a thousand years ago, give or take'.

'A thousand years?' Getsu repeated. 'Ain't ya a little overreacting?'

'Perhaps', Tensa admitted. 'But those Taichō upstairs are two of the oldest in the Gotei Thirteen. I don't want to chance it. If they recognise me, you will be the least of their concerns'.

'Ya don't wanna chance it?' Getsu echoed. 'There is nothing to chance! We are hundreds of meters below the surface with not one, but two layers of Seki-Seki! Even if they were standing right outside this door, we wouldn't know and neither would they! No one is gonna know if we were ta seal Bankai for a minute!'

'But—'

'Sides, they prolly already know we're in Bankai', Getsu pointed out. 'We never sealed it and they definitely felt me release it. So there is absolutely no reason why we can't seal it in here'.

'They could question our reasoning for staying in Bankai', Tensa tried to argue, though he already knew it was moot.

'Then we'll say we don't trust them and will stay in Bankai till they're gone', Getsu countered. 'Absolutely. No. Reason. So I'm gonna seal Bankai and ya better do the same'. Getsu gave Tensa a glare while he pulled on their shared power. His Other half was reluctant but complied.

Tensa's shape grew blurry as his form changed, growing taller and older until it wasn't a young adolescent but a full-grown adult standing in his place. Getsu didn't change as drastically, the lengths of his hair turning back into Pressure leaving only the short mess that had been protected by his mask. The markings on his body retraced their path to the circular mark in his chest which then shrunk and vanished.

Getsu's eyes widened as exhaustion hit, taking a deep breath and exhaling just as fast. It had slipped his mind that they could actually tire whenever they were manifested. Zan wasn't fairing any better, his usual regal stance more unsteady as he too struggled to breathe. If they felt so worn down, they couldn't imagine how drained their wielder must have felt.

'And you wanted ta stay in Bankai', Getsu hissed.

Zan didn't try to argue the accusation. He had been so focussed on not being recognised that he'd failed to keep an eye on their energy. He couldn't believe how severely he had miscalculated the amount of energy their wielder had left. If Getsu hadn't pushed him Ichigo would have passed out and there was no way of knowing what would have happened to them after that. Fortunately, he was now placed in the best possible position to restore the damage he had unknowingly inflicted.

Getsu watched the other go into the spring, pulling his hair up into a messy bun before more or less vanishing up to his nose in the water. The effect was immediate, the healing properties of the water refilling their drained reserves and, by extension, Ichigo's as well. He should follow the Other's example. Having both of them in the spring would have their reserves restored in no time, he knew that but...

"And? What do the results say?"

"Well... it has matured and it will survive if we take it out".

"But?"

"I don't know, Aizen-sama. It doesn't look very promising".

He shook his head, trying to dispel the memories that weren't even his, to begin with. That was not him. It never had been him. He had been completely fine with water before and a few stupid memories shouldn't change that. With a frustrated growl did Getsu stand up. He ignored how the room tilted and headed over to the spring without any hesitation until his toes were at the edge. He glared at the steaming surface, cursing it to Hell and back as he sat down on the edge, knees drawn to his chest.

Just... put your feet in, coward. It's just water, it ain't gonna hurt. He was faintly aware he had started to purr, the rumble deep in his chest trying to soothe the growing anxiety that he didn't have the patience to deal with right now. Ah, fuck it. With a huff he let his heart turn to liquid between beats. It burst from his chest and rushed up to his face, leaving a hole behind as it constructed a faux visage for him to wear. The pain, stress and anxiety he could no longer experience or understand without a heart turned to anger on a dime, becoming this burning rage that simmered underneath his skin. His Pressure spiked, heavy and uncontrolled but only for a moment. Anger was familiar to him, controlling it as instinctual and breathing. And while he preferred to feel happy, anger was at least simple and easy, and easy was as much as he could handle right about now.

With a gruff huff did he jerk his knees up and plunged his feet into the water. Again the memories of a previous lifetime resurfaced, trying to overwhelm him with knowledge and experience he shouldn't have. Getsu growled at the images that flicked past his mind's eye, his anger growing—not his grief, shame, or guilt, just his anger. He moved his feet a bit, watching the waves he created and the disturbance they caused on the water's surface. He could feel the water's high Energy potency restore his emptied reserves, which, combined with the warmth and Zan's roaming Pressure, eased the growing fury that ate away at his sanity. Before long a soft but deep rumble echoed through the chamber.

He heard water being displaced, felt ripples of movement around his legs and glanced to the side to see the other had moved closer to him. Arms crossed on the stone ledge, elbow a fingers width away from the dark fabric of the bathrobe

'You did not have to do this'.

Getsu grumbled, fingers increasing their hold on the ledge of the spring. He knew that but he wanted to. It wasn't like he wasn't going to have nightmares anyway so it really didn't matter. He could feel his other half didn't agree with him. Felt the sympathy and guilt in his Pressure but didn't know how to process it while wearing his heart on his face so he got angrier instead. With a growl did Getsu kick Zan's side with his foot, hard enough to draw blood if the Other hadn't used Blut. Zan didn't flinch, responding with a deep 'Hmm?' as he looked up at his counterpart.

Getsu angled his head as he let out a harsh but inquisitive croon; the room giving his now dual-toned voice an ominous echo.

'It is nothing you should concern yourself over', Zan dismissed, resting his chin on his forearms. 'And no, I do not feel like sharing. It will only upset you'.

With a grumble did Getsu jab his toes into the other's side some more.

Zan shot him a glare as he moved a little to the side so that Getsu couldn't reach him as easily. 'It is something I have to make peace with on my own. You can not help me with that'.

Gold narrowed behind the mask, a soft but deep rolling rumble brewing in Getsu's throat like incoming thunder. Black-tipped claws scratched the stone ledge of the spring with light twitches as the spirit leaned over, pushing his Hollow Pressure firmly on the Other's shoulders. Zan wasn't fazed at the hostility, turning his head away and pretending he wasn't affected in the slightest. Below his crossed arms his fingers were digging into the ceramic floor as much as they could without breaking them, trying to keep himself up against the heavy weight that was trying to push him under.

After a minute, Getsu let his Pressure up with a displeased snarl. His hands went up to his head, fingers curling around the faux-chin and pushing upward. The mask came off with ease, revealing the strong blue hue on Getsu's cheeks that clashed with the near-expressionless face he wore. Placing his second face on his lap he freed his hands up to speak.

"You stop brooding" he signed, hands moving in sudden and static bursts that made it harder to read. "No you fault. You help me. You good".

'I would have been able to help you more if I—' he stopped, shaking his head. 'It is of no use to ponder over "what if's", I know that well. However, my mind keeps wandering there on its own accord, wondering if you would have suffered less if I had been different'.

Getsu growled and kicked him hard, sharp nails finding purchase in Blut hardened skin and drawing Zan's attention back to him. He raised his hands, making sure those piercing blue eyes were trained on them before he made the clearest signs he had ever made, "You perfect. Never change".

Whatever rebuttal Zan had died in his throat as the meaning of the signs registered, eyes widening just a tad in shock while his face grew warm and red. He had already known that in the eyes of his other half and wielder he was perfect. That they accepted him as he is, faults and all because to them he had no faults, only things he struggled with and they were more than content to help him overcome. He had already known this but to see Getsu declare it in his face like it was a fact, offended that Zan didn't believe it to be true…he hadn't been prepared for that.

'How is it that you say the most heart-warming things when you do not even have a heart or voice?'

Getsu huffed, "I speak true. No feelings involved. I angry you not think same".

'I want to believe it', Zan admitted. 'It will merely take some more time'.

"You will". Getsu paused, flexing his fingers a little before adding, "We will. I sure".

'I believe I misspoke earlier when I said you could not help', Zan said. 'You cannot help me any more than you already are…and you are helping me immensely'.

Getsu huffed, short and certain at having won the disagreement and it made Zan smile—well, made the corners of his mouth lilt upwards. It wasn't a happy smile for it didn't reach his eyes or brightened his Pressure with amusement but it did remove the guilt-fuelled sympathy from his face that Getsu absolutely resented with a fiery passion.

'Will you keep your mask until we go up again?' he asked as his eyes drifted to the hole in the centre of Getsu's sternum.

The question prompted Getsu to look down at his mask that somehow still lay perfectly centre on his lap. His hands lowered, fingers going under to lift it up, thumbs rubbing circles on the cheeks. There was a twitch in his expression, brows knitting together as he mulled the query over. After a short minute, he came to the decision he shouldn't stay without a heart longer than needed and shook his head with a soft chirp.

'And how are you feeling? Are you still tired?'

Getsu bobbed his head from side to side, moving his feet in the water to create waves and add some clarification to his nonverbal answer. He hummed briefly, low and harsh, as his feet stilled, one hand raising to make a so-so gesture.

'Good. Then I believe it is high time to finish this up. It would not do for them to think we somehow managed to drown ourselves'.

Getsu rolled his eyes at the attempt at humour, a rather slow and sarcastic sounding "ha ha ha" coming from his throat. He pulled his feet back out of the water and stood up, placing his mask on his chest and letting it become his heart once more. His face regained expression, the first one that formed being clear discomfort.

Because feeling your heart cease to beat and anger become your life was one thing, feeling it return with all those "annoying and useless" emotions was something else. Zan could sense the myriad of emotions in Getsu's Pressure as clear as the heat of the spring; fear, guilt, unease, and sadness were the most prominent ones flickering past before Getsu managed to get them under wraps. Pushing them down and shoving them into a figurative box, locking it tight so he could ignore them and work through them at his own pace later—which, let's be honest, will never happen until someone intervened. This—playing with his heart and emotions—was something Getsu did without much hesitation. Not caring much about the negative effects it had on his psyche.

Yet, at the mere idea of Tensa's fingers coming near his head, Getsu had hesitated, had flinched when he had touched his hair.

No, he shouldn't think like that, it would be unfair of him to do so. He had brought that reaction upon himself. All because he couldn't just accept—

*Flick*

A sting on his forehead registered and Zan looked up to see Getsu before him, the fingers of his left hand poised in the aftermath of a strike.

'Stop thinking', Getsu scolded, voice soft and a bit raspy. 'Ain't doing ya any good'. His hand became an offer, 'Take it or I'll drag ya out'.

'Since you insist so nicely', Zan said as he took the offered hand and let himself be aided out of the spring.

Getsu was right, this wasn't the time to think about it. Later. When they didn't need to watch every word they said and every step they took. When they were both back in Ichigo's Mindscape, safe and sound. Later.

Maybe.

#

To Be Continued