RULE OF THREE
It was night when Zangetsu awoke properly for the first time.
That was the first thing he was aware of.
Night.
A cloudy night.
A storm was on the horizon.
It was night and his wielder was in battle.
His... wielder?
Yes, that was right.
His wielder: The one who would give form to him.
He was...
His senses were still dulled by sleep and disorganized from lack of a proper form. What was he?
Zanpakuto.
The word he could not have known made sense to him. And along with it was a name.
A jolt accompanied the name and three things made themselves known:
Zangetsu: A weapon. A sword. The power to destroy and protect. His self. Familiar.
The Other: An unknown. It was him, but also not. Something about that part of his power felt different. He regarded it cautiously. It regarded him back.
A Hole: An imperfection. Barely perceptible among the thrashing energy that was his wielder's soul, but present nonetheless.
His thoughts circled back to the name- His name- Zangetsu- Slaying Moon.
It was appropriate he awoke at night.
A new emotion- surprise- washed over him as he pondered why it had taken so long for his wielder to awaken him. There had been previous times Zangetsu had felt a tug towards consciousness: once when fighting that hollow with the lure on its head, and later when the competition started by the Quincy lured out a Menos. All those times he had come close.
But now he was awake. Now he was aware.
He was power, and his wielder needed him.
If only his wielder knew his name.
Zangetsu knew he just needed to call out.
His thoughts stumbled for a bit.
How would he call out to his wielder?
His form had yet to solidify, leaving him and the world around as abstract blurs of color and energy and emotion. He extended his newfound senses, trying to figure out who or what his wielder was fighting. Maybe that would help.
His wielder was on the ground, having just received a drastic blow to his left shoulder. Zangetsu winced, feeling the dull pain somewhere in his amorphous body but not quite understanding it.
Their opponent was strong. Not like that was a problem, Zangetsu was strong too. The red-haired shinigami was looming, raising his jagged blade to deal the final blow.
I'm here...
Zangetsu leaned harder against the limits of his wielder's soul.
Call on me.
His wielder slowly pushed himself to his feet.
We'll win together!
Pride and determination swelled in Zangetsu and his wielder. He could feel his vague form trying to coalesce, power solidifying as his wielder subconsciously drew upon his energy.
I am-!
Their power exploded outward, startling everyone in attendance. Zangetsu's wielder took a lunging jump forward, slashing a deep cut in his foe's shoulder.
"I don't know what happened, but I feel great!" His wielder's voice sang out after a few more blows to his enemy.
A different emotion pierced through him like ice. It seemed his wielder hadn't heard him. No problem. He would be able to hear him soon. The ice melted somewhat.
"I don't think I will lose to you!"
Zangetsu could feel his wielder's grin and matched it with one of his own. Sharp teeth and claws began to take shape.
Yes, that felt right. Can't be all bark without any bite to back it up.
His strength grew as the wild energy around him began to press into him, drawing together to a single point, like a star before a supernova. Battle instincts flooded his mind and he felt the heat of adrenaline coursing through him. This was their power. This was their drive. He was alive!
"This is the end!"
His form was almost complete. The space around him was beginning to take shape as well, clicking into place; all that was needed was the final act to seal it in permanence: his wielder to speak his name. He should be able to be heard now.
My name is-!
The laser-focus the two had achieved during the short battle was immediately gone; as was most of his wielder's blade. Zangetsu could feel the emotions of his wielder shift and felt something cold run through him: hesitation.
He wanted to open his mouth, to scream his name at his young wielder. They could win together if only he could hear!
The growing connection was severed before Zangetsu had the chance.
His form collapsed, no longer able to hold itself together without his wielder's draw and reverting back to raw energy. Confusion and fear swirled through his nebulous mind. He tried his best to resist the draw of sleep, trying in vain to do something to stop his wielder's almost-certain death.
If he survives, he will be powerless... Zangetsu wasn't sure how he was aware of that fact, but he knew it was true nonetheless.
The bitter burn of loneliness settled over the sword spirit. He had been so close to actualization. So close to recognition from his wielder. To have awoken and then be pulled away so soon.
His thoughts wandered, trying to remember how it felt to have been almost given a form. He hadn't gotten a good look at himself before it all fell apart. All he could recall were fangs and claws and pure strength before it fell apart.
It wasn't fair.
Zangetsu wouldn't accept it.
I will do anything to protect him. That is my only goal: to make him strong. I will crush anyone who stands in my way.
All throughout, The Other sat silently, watching.
They couldn't resist the pull of unconsciousness any longer.