{AUTHOR'S NOTES - I have this story crossposted on my Ao3 account (Pumpkabooyah) Updates are rather slow. CC is welcome, but keep it actually constructive please}
Saori held the hilt of her blade with a tight grasp. Both hands this time. The power behind a two-handed slash was a lot stronger than a single-hand hit. However, it was less versatile. With two hands, it was easier to block a powerful blow, but sometimes it's too slow. One handed is faster, but it's also weaker.
"Are you ready?" Ikkaku called out to her, flexing his sword arm in anticipation for their match. He was getting impatient.
Her slender fingers flexed as she adjusted her grip. A deep breath escaped her lips as she stared down her opponent opposite her, "I'm ready."
Back in her days at the Academy, Saori exclusively used the kendo method in her sword play. Both hands on the hilt at all times. But once her zanpak-to revealed its power to her, Saori adopted a more versatile method of sword-play.
Starting a fight with a two-handed grip, to changing to single-hand. Sometimes, she'd even swap hands mid fight. From right hand into left hand. Keeping her skills sharp, as well as keeping her opponent on their toes.
Sparring with Saori was always a challenge, but to Ikkaku, it was a welcome one. Her unpredictability on the battlefield kept his skills from becoming dull.
Ikkaku, as well as Yumichika, were glad that Saori had warmed to them as she did. When she had first arrived at Squad Eleven, she always kept to herself. With the exception of Yachiru, who had latched on the other girl immediately after she had arrived at the barracks.
At the beginning, even her fighting style was closed off. She was still strong, but she was rigid. Even now, she was still reserved and rarely spoke about herself, which often made her stand out in the rowdy group of men that made up the majority of the Squad Eleven. As time went on, Saori would become friendlier with them all, but no one really knew anything about her. The only thing the two men knew about Saori's past was that she was from one of the farther districts in Rukongai, and that they had only learned from Yachiru. And Yachiru wouldn't tell them how she knew. Saori was a mystery.
With a practiced ease, Saori weaved herself out of the way of Ikkaku's onslaught of attacks. The slices and slashes were always close, but never quite close enough.
"You have the grace of a swan!" Yumichika called out.
Saori grinned, but kept her eyes on the bald man in front of her. Distractions from Yumichika had worked one time, and one time only. But that didn't stop Yumichika from attempting it nearly every spar session.
The clang of metal on metal echoed across the indoor training ground. Saori decided to catch Ikkaku's blade with hers. Two hands on the hilt.
Ikkaku bore down on the pigtailed girl, grinning wildly, while Saori's usual frown returned to her face. He noticed her left hand had slipped from the hilt and snaked its way along the back of her blade. She was planning something. Hands on two ends of the blade meant that she needed balance for whatever it was that she was going to do.
Anticipating his opponent to push her blade forward, Ikkaku pushed down on her harder. This time with his full weight. Saori was strong, but speaking objectively, Ikkaku was stronger. Saori, however, was trickier.
A swift kick to the gut sent Ikkaku flying backwards. He grunted loudly, and swore.
With both hands back on the hilt, Saori lunged forward. Her zanpak-to poised to pierce. Ikkaku righted himself faster than she had anticipated. The bald man stepped out of the way of the strike, but the momentum kept carrying Saori forward. Before she could redirect herself, Ikkaku struck her in the back with the flat of his blade, signalling the end of the bout.
Ikkaku had won, Saori lost.
"Moves like that is why you shoulda been put in Squad Two!" Ikkaku complained, rubbing the spot where he had been kicked
Saori sheathed her blade on the scabbard on her back and laughed, "And yet, you still beat me."
Yumichika tossed a towel to Ikkaku and another to Saori, "Hurry and dry off. We have a transfer to meet." He ran a hand through his hair as he spoke.
"Who's transferring in?" Saori asked, folding her towel and tucking it into her shihakusho.
"We weren't given a name," Ikkaku chimed in, "They're from Squad Five though." He eyed Saori again, "They'll be pretty well-rounded so they won't have to rely on tricks like you!"
Saori scoffed, "I don't rely on tricks." She fell into step with Yumichika who walked ahead of them, "Besides, you fell for it."
Ikkaku furrowed his thin brows. Irritated, but not angry. Yumichika shushed the two as they playfully bickered. The closer the trio got to the courtyard doors, the more commotion they heard.
With a delicate hand, Yumichika quietly slid the door open. The two men were the first to step out, but Saori remained inside. Frozen in place.
In the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by many of the rank-and-file of Squad Eleven, stood Captain Zaraki. Tall and imposing. Standing before him, head bowed low, was a familiar red-head. Renji Abarai.
"I have to go." Saori muttered just loud enough for the two men ahead of her to hear. Before either of them could ask why, she was gone.
"Oh sweetheart, you were making such progress!"
Saori looked up from where she sat, slouched upon her futon. Above her stood Chima, one of the spirits of her zanpak-to. Her tall form clad in a snow white kimono with red stains along the hem. Her heavy sleeves that fell to the floor were decorated with threads in a similar colour. A heavy, greyish, hooded cape obscured most of her face, but sleek black hair fell along the sides of her pale face. Cho, the secondary spirit, sat silently upon Saori's desk in the corner of the room. Both wore the same clothing, like twins do.
Chima held a pale, heavily sleeved hand out to Saori, who placed her now bloodied sword in it. The moment the sword was gone, Saori pulled the towel from her shihakusho and pressed it on her heavily scarred arm. As she dabbed the blood away, she noticed Cho quietly rummaging through a desk drawer. He pulled out the roll of bandages Saori always kept around, and tossed them to her.
"Thanks."
Saori pulled the bandages over her bloodied arm with ease. A motion she was quite used to.
"Just as I predicted!" Chima cried after giving the blade a lick, "Sour!" She handed the sword back to Saori, who sheathed it. "Saori, what happened?" Chima knelt down on the futon, facing her wielder.
Saori sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. Chima knew this stance well.
"The transfer." Saori quietly muttered, her voice shaking ever so slightly. "We grew up together, and seeing him again reminds me too much of what happened to me and…" She buried her head into her knees, "...Suzuha."
Scooping up Saori's hand, Chima placed her other hand atop the freshly bandaged cuts. The delicate red patterns on her white sleeves resembled the tiny drops of red that threatened to seep through the bandages. Saori winced at the contact, but didn't pull away.
"Time won't change or fix what happened. But it will help to heal it." Chima's thin, black lips broke into a smile, "We've said it many times before, but look at you now! You have friends!"
Saori lifted her head a small bit off her knees, looking up at the hooded face of Chima, "Friends is saying a lot."
"Maybe so, but it's something." Chima let go of Saori and stood up. She turned to face her brother. As Chima stepped away, Saori took in the pattern decorating the back of the spirits' cape. They resembled petals, or eyes. Red with a splash of yellow in the middle. As the cape swished from side to the side, Saori thought she saw the yellow part move, while the red remained in place.
Chima held her hand out to Cho, who slid off the desk. His bare feet were not even making a sound on the floor as he stepped beside his sister. Both of them towering over Saori. The two of them bowed to their wielder, but before they returned to their own realm, the usually silent Cho spoke up, "It will hurt, but you'll adapt."
And then they disappeared.
Cho's rather straightforward words resonated with her. He was right. She will adapt, for she always had.