Hello and welcome to yet another chapter with a cliffhanger!

Thank you everyone who has been following the story :)

I'm looking forward to reading the reviews!

Thank you Sassifrass for being a wonderful Beta and arguing with me (a little) about my crazy ideas of plain fighting :P

OCs appearing:

Kobashigawa Hinagiku (11th)

Kida Rini (11th)

Nakajima Shin (11th?)

Nakajima Hideki (10th - deceased)

Kobashigawa Setsuko (mentioned)

Ichirō (Husband of Kobashigawa Setsuko, mentioned)

This chapter's words of inspiration are:

We men are fascinated by the things we don't really understand. It gives us something to think and talk about: like females, they drive us nuts.

- Criss Jami

Chapter 16: Tournament VI: Walls of memories

It is dark. Dark, but not silent. I can hear it. In the distance. There is a clash of swords, the smell of steel and sweat and the rush of battle. But, that isn't all. There is more there.

I can feel it.

The rush of blood in her veins and the stiffness of her shoulders. I can hear her breath and I can feel her thoughts. I know her desires and I know her goals.

My hands grip the paper in front of me, crumpling it.

Let me fight for you.

Let me do battle.

Let me promise.

No fear.

No retreat.

No defeat.

I.

Will.

Win.

For you. Only for you. I will win for you.

Come and find me.

Come and meet me.

Listen to my voice.

Now.

In.

And out.

Her breathing came steady, practiced as if she hadn't been jumping about with her feet full of reiatsu.

In.

And out.

The subtle metallic sound, barely hearable to a normal ear, followed with her breathing.

In.

And out.

Quickdraw. She had practiced it since the first time she'd seen a katana. She'd practiced it at home, with a small letter opener she'd stolen from her Grandmother's desk. She'd practiced it at the garden with her mother's 'borrowed' scissors. She'd practiced it with a wooden sword at the Academy. She'd practiced it with her Asauchi, from the first day she'd laid hands on it.

In.

And out.

The theory of the quickdraw wasn't in the actual speed of the hand. It wasn't in the strength of a body. It wasn't in the flick of the wrist. No. It was all in the sheath. The feel of the blade pressed tightly in its snug cover as she dragged it in an angle outwards. And then, once it sprung free… It flew. It was in all in the motion. In the practice of the muscles. In the determination of the user.

And if she had one thing, she had determination.

You will get nowhere with a half of your heart, my little daisy. Her mother had told her. We all need that other half, to make something complete. It is only complete when it is whole. She'd never done anything half-heartedly. She put everything she had into everything she did. And if she failed, that was alright. She'd done everything in her power to achieve her goals.

But, this was different.

The Asauchi in her hands felt weightless and the breath in her lungs was the only thing she could hear clearly. In the background, somewhere, there was the song of metal clashing against metal. But, it wasn't important. There was only one thing to do now.

Breathe.

In.

And out.

Her katana flew even faster this time, with more force, as she grit her teeth. She switched her footing, changing the grip on her sword in an instant, allowing the blade to slide against her opponents. She could hear him panting. He was tired. He didn't have rhythm. He lacked discipline. He lacked technique.

He lacked practice.

With a cheery giggle, Hinagiku slid her foot between his and slammed a kick into his leg, breaking his balance. The boy fell, eyes wide, to his knees. The figure behind him stood tall, calm, with almost a pensive look on his face. But, the boy did his best to hold onto their clashed, pushing against one another, swords.

Determination.

She could hear her mother's voice through the numbness of her own mind, making her tilt her head to the side in order to inspect her opponent better. True. He had determination. She switched the grip on her katana once again, their swords singing together with the change of force. With her left hand free, Hinagiku grabbed the sheath from her hip and swung it in a wide arc.

A deafening hit rang out as it slammed against the newbie's head.

He hadn't even seen it coming, unlike his brother.

Hideki was smiling.

Discipline. Practice. Experience. He lacked so, so much and yet, he made the blood in her very veins boil at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows.

"Ya' have guts, I'll give ya' tha', Shin-bo." As soon as she saw the surprise on his face, she changed the pace of their fight. Suddenly, they were the only ones standing in the arena once more.

Pull back, give him space.

The boy jumped to his feet, rushing at her with a yell. With a smirk, Hinagiku ducked, reiatsu thick in her toes, as she rushed forward. Then, she was behind him, her sheath at her hip, katana safely inside it. She gave him a real smile this time, encouraging him despite his shocked and terrified expression. Her knees bent, katana leveled with the ground in a parallel position, right hand at the tsuka and left holding the sheath still.

"Try 'gain next week!" Hinagiku commented cheerily. Hideki was watching her from the stairs, now. And she took a breath.

In.

And out.

Iai: One slice!

She didn't feel the draw. She didn't feel the telltale release of the force once the katana was out of the sheath. She didn't feel the moment it sliced through his flesh. She didn't hear his scream. She didn't feel the practiced extra swish through the air when she shook the blood off the blade. She didn't hear the katana hum as she re-sheathed it. She didn't feel anything.

It was done.

With a wide smirk on her face and a calm inside of her she hadn't felt in a while, Hinagiku stepped around the beaten Shinigami of the third level and headed for the stairs. She took a deep breath, sucked it as far as it could go and her smile widened, if that was possible.

She could smell the battle.

The scent of sweat, steel, and blood.

And finally, finally, she felt at home.

"It's time to leave." She whispered to the shadow of her fear and the illusion of the man she'd seen murdered vanished. All that was left was the sight of her fallen enemies.

Tōshirō had arrived on time, as usual, if not a little early. He'd bumped into a couple of officers from his Division on his way to the large bleachers, but, he'd ended up sitting alone, like he preferred. This way, he had a chance to actually watch the match, instead of having to participate in conversation. Captain Kuchiki had surprised him at one point, sitting next to him silently and then starting a short conversation regarding the missing reports from last week. Curse Matsumoto, Tōshirō thought, with a promise to send someone over with them as soon as the Tournament was over.

As well-thought out as it was, the whole ordeal was messing up his entire Division. They should all consider themselves truly lucky if Zaraki didn't demand a Tournament like this each month, though. Once a year, they could probably handle the paperwork and the damages. More often and Seireitei would descend into chaos. He didn't envy Hinagiku one bit, as she would undoubtedly be the one cleaning up after her Captain's mess.

Speaking of the girl, Tōshirō mused, leaning back to see the arena better. They had left the water in the pool on the bottom, probably to catch the participants who went flying off the rings. Speaking of those. If Matsumoto had been impressed by the arena last time, he wondered what she'd say about this one.

It was a huge contraption of three rings, each at a different height. As far as he could see, they had been connected with slim, railing-less staircases, allowing the participants to go between levels. The lowest ring, closest to the water, was a simple round platform. The next one, about four meters above the first one had a hole in the middle, allowing the spectators to watch both areas of the arena at the same time. The last one, the highest, was higher above the rest, at least ten or even twenty meters, as Tōshirō estimated and it looked like a nasty climb. It was the widest, and there was no chance that an unseated Shinigami would be able to jump across the hole in the middle in order to get to their prey on the other side.

Tōshirō smirked, nodding his head. Whoever had designed these was a true sadist. Not only were they aiming to weed out the officers with a fear of heights, but they were leaving enough room for the fights to be individual, unlike the previous brawls. This truly was a work of art. Well, one that the 11th Division would enjoy.

He opened the pamphlet which he'd been handed upon entry, taking in the names of the participants and the short descriptions of their stats. Easily enough, he found Hinagiku's picture. She was staring blankly at him from the page, almost like she was ready to salute or something. But, that was the kind of stiffness and propriety he'd come to enjoy in the girl. As respectable and rule-obeying as she was, Tōshirō didn't doubt that she would surprise them all with something unconventional. Yet, rule abiding. He chuckled to himself, focusing on her picture again. The violet eyes stared up at him in a stern, but respectful gaze.

She looks so different from judge Kobashigawa, the Captain realized.

With a shake of his head, he banished those thoughts from his head. The judge had nothing to do with this. But, she did. This was her granddaughter. She was Kobashigawa Hinagiku. But, she was nothing like the judge. And yet, she was everything like the woman.

Tōshirō stared at the pamphlet for a moment longer. No, he decided. She was nothing like the judge. A single look at her eyes could tell you that. Hinagiku was nothing like her grandmother.

The young Captain was torn from his internal struggles as the booming voice of the 7th Seat welcomed all spectators to another match of the 11th Division's Tournament. He briefly introduced the judges, explained the rules and gave a 101 on the arena, before giving the signal for a start. Tōshirō leaned forward in his seat, trying to get the best vantage point.

Little black shapes rushed out and into the rings, pouring one over the other.

The insanity had begun.

Tōshirō's eyes darted back and forth from one participant to the other, looking for the telltale colorful scarf. He found his target rather quickly. His eyes narrowed, watching her movement carefully. The small shape of a slight girl in a black shihakushō had burst from the stairs in between the second and the third ring and she'd made her way through the crowd of newbies easily enough. Tōshirō focused on her, and only her, tuning out everything else which was happening at the stadium.

She was good.

He noted this as he watched her continually draw her blade. The quickdraw technique which she was using with practiced ease would give any officer unaccustomed to it blisters and undoubtedly a sore arm. Not to mention that the fingers of her hands had to be incredibly strong for a feat such as that. But, in comparison to the top ring, where the most ferocious and most experienced fighters were out for blood she was painfully average.

The Captain found himself praying that she wouldn't reach the top ring, as he wasn't sure what he'd do if she got on the wrong end of one of those brutal slices of the numerous Asauchi.

What was he thinking?

What he would do?

Tōshirō shook his head, straightening his back in his seat. Hinagiku was a Shinigami. She was an officer in the military, trained for fighting and hardened from battle. He wouldn't do anything. Of course, he wouldn't. She needed this. She needed every second of this. She needed it to be strong. She needed it to be better. She needed it to survive.

And yet, he knew that he would fly down there to stop a sword if it came too close to her.

Tōshirō cursed under his breath, grabbing the fabric of his hakama in a tight grip. He needed to ground himself. He needed purchase. He needed control.

"Taicho?" A surprised, familiar voice sounded next to him through a haze of his own panic. He'd almost lost control. The cheers and shouts coming from all around the bleachers were suddenly deafening in his ears and his eyes left the tiny form on the bottom of the arena, which was struggling with another participant, in order to look at his Lieutenant.

"Matsumoto." He gave her a nod, putting a well-practiced mask into place. By the smirk on her face, she hadn't been fooled. Though, the busty woman didn't mention it and instead plopped down in the seat next to him.

"Didn't think you would come to the match today, Taicho." She commented, eyes darting to the arena. Tōshirō allowed himself to glance down, right where he had seen the object of his lack of control last. She was gone. "Is there someone who's piqued your interest?"

"A few." Tōshirō ripped his eyes away from the arena to look at his Lieutenant, fighting with himself not to look for that familiar, colorful scarf on any of the rings. Instead, he focused on Matsumoto. She had been looking at him in a way which made him quite uncomfortable. Though, whether she knew what he had been thinking of mere moments before her arrival or not, Tōshirō didn't know. Matsumoto was as unreadable as always.

"Hmmmm." She agreed, her eyes straying to the rings now. But, Tōshirō didn't look away. He couldn't. If he did look back down, no matter how good he was at hiding his emotions, she would know. Matsumoto had known him for too long not to notice.

When the hell had this happened?

Tōshirō took a breath, cleared his mind and focused on the icy presence inside of him. Hyorinmaru was a welcome, familiar cool, in both mind and body. But, even that deep inside, so close to the very core of his Soul, he could feel the unease, the urge, and the promise. To protect.

Tōshirō chuckled, allowing his eyes to finally return to the rings of the arena. Why was he surprised about this kind of a feeling? After all, at his core, he was a dragon. And if a dragon does anything, he protects his property. Surprisingly, the mousy officer of another Division had become a part of that.

He leaned his head to the side, his arm coming to hold his chin as he smiled at the officers below, fighting for their place in the Division. Tōshirō relaxed and found the object of his interest with ease. The colorful scarf was whipping in the wind as the slight girl rushed up the stairs and towards the highest ring of the arena.

"Her." He finally said, making Matsumoto hum in question. She took a moment to follow his gaze and locate the person his eyes were following intently.

"Taicho!" Exclaimed the Lieutenant. "You must be joking!" She squinted. "Sure, she has good technique, but she's too stiff!" Another clash of swords below and Matsumoto huffed. "That was a completely unnecessary movement! She's all over the place!"

"Matsumoto." Warned Tōshirō, but there was no force behind his words. She was right. Hinagiku was all over the place and she was too stiff. But, there was something there. There was something beneath the surface. Perhaps, if she let go. Perhaps, if there was someone to simply peel the layer of propriety off of her… Then… Then she would show everyone exactly what she could do. "Who knows." He finally settled for. "Zaraki wouldn't give her, anyway."

"Since when do you care about what Zaraki-taicho wants?" Matsumoto asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Only if it would prevent me from doing what I want." Tōshirō remarked. He watched the figure in the arena, slashing her way through her opponents. "Tch. Her shoulders are too stiff." He finally admitted to his Lieutenant. Matsumoto hummed in agreement, obviously happy that her Captain was seeing sense. Though, he eyes didn't leave the small form of the Shinigami jumping about.

She carefully watched as the girl chose her footing, switching the bursts of her reiatsu in her toes. "Ouch." Matsumoto winced as a katana made contact with the poor girl's stomach. She obviously hadn't seen it coming, being a tad too engrossed in her other fight. She was built for duels and definitely not for brawls, like the rest of the Zaraki Squad.

Matsumoto glanced at her Captain, watching the way his eyes had narrowed in concentration. She could feel his own reiatsu oozing out of him. After all, that was how she'd found him in the stands. No one had dared to sit near him because of the sheer power of the aura. Well, that and his award-winning personality. She focused back on the match with a small smile on her lips. Her Captain would definitely be an interesting one to pay attention to in the next few weeks. After all, it wasn't every day that the stoic Hitsugaya Tōshirō had his mind full of an unseated officer.

"Eh?" Matsumoto exclaimed, eyes narrowing now. The small black shape of her Captain's obsession was gone. "Where'd she go?" She murmured, her eyes scouring the top ring of the arena. "You're joking!" The busty Lieutenant finally exclaimed when she found the colorful scarf. The small Shinigami stood in between both of her opponents, fighting on two sides at once. She'd forgone the quickdraw from the sheath, her signature move. Instead she was using the enemy Asauchi as a base, fighting in an almost relaxed manner. The Lieutenant squinted, as if unsure what she was seeing was right. The petite Shinigami was moving like a completely different officer, with fluidity in her fighting style which hadn't been there earlier. Even from her spot on the bleachers, Matsumoto could see the wide smirk on the girl's face which somehow didn't suit her. It was too vicious. Too lethal. Too bloodthirsty. Too Zaraki… And then, it was gone. "Captain, is tha-" But, she didn't finish, because the look on his face told her everything. His eyes had that kind of sparkle, like when a child would find a piece of candy or an old lady would see some money on the street.

"Alright, I give up." Laughed the Lieutenant, throwing her hands up. She looked back at the arena. "You can keep your stiff girl a secret." Her Captain finally let out a chuckle, giving her a glance, before his eyes went back to the field.

"I plan to." He replied and their conversation ended. Neither of them commented when the said Shinigami's shoulders tensed once again, remaining that way until the end of the brawl. Surprisingly, the busty Lieutenant didn't bring up the topic of the girl with the bright colored scarf once again that day.

Hinagiku hissed while sinking into the bath. She could practically feel the water getting into the raw wounds from her day at the arena. With a pained huff, she attempted to relax, letting her head fall back to the edge of the bath. Though, there was no helping it. With the two fights being completely back to back, she was sore and bruised all over. One Asauchi had even caught her across her stomach when she'd been paying a bit too much attention to her current opponent. Now, that wound stung.

"If Grandmother could see me now." Hinagiku whispered to the ceiling with a huff of a laugh. The mere thought of her Grandmother even hearing of the state of Hinagiku's precious body being damaged would send the woman into a fit of rage. Well, more like a fit of lecture. The petite Shinigami could still remember the first time that had happened.

It had been over thirty years ago, now, when she'd just started her Academy training. She'd barely begun using her Asauchi when she'd had a small mishap during training with another student. Word had somehow gotten to her Grandmother, who had stormed into the tiny Academy infirmary with a blank expression. But, Hinagiku could remember the way the woman's lips had pressed into a tight, tiny line, fury raging in her eyes.

"At least you have not disfigured your facial features yet, granddaughter." The stern woman had told her icily, before leaving. The next day, Hinagiku's sparring partner from that day had been summoned by Central 46 and the girl couldn't really remember seeing much of him later. As for her, she'd received remedial classes at her Grandmother's estate, concerning the pureness and cleanliness of a woman's body before a marriage. In other words, a clear instruction for her to avoid scars at all costs.

Hinagiku pushed herself up and out of the bath, forcing the memories away from her thoughts. She had never had a good relationship with her Grandmother. The woman was stern and proper, and all too much self-confident. It was as if the Soul King himself had come to Seireitei to give her her wisdom so that she could spread it. Or, at least Kobashigawa Setsuko thought so.

For Hinagiku, it was quite the opposite.

She'd never really fit into her Grandmother's plan. Kobashigawa Setsuko had been the woman to raise their name into respect by becoming a member of the Central 46. She had been the one to form a powerful marriage with her husband, Ichirō, even going as far as refusing to surrender her last name. It had been a scandal, back in the day, and quite well-known. Who was a woman to refuse to take on her husband's last name?

However, in the end, Kobashigawa Setsuko had persisted. She had been a formidable councilwoman of the Central 46 back then and she had already been well-known by her own last name. And then, ages later, her marriage was blessed with a baby girl. Hinagiku's mother. Oh, how many plans had the judge had for her daughter. After all, there had been numerous suitable male suitors being born into noble families at that time. She had been so certain, back then, that her daughter would be the first to marry into true aristocracy.

But, things hadn't exactly gone according to plan.

The rebellious Kobashigawa gene was a bit too strong and unpredictable in Hinagiku's mother. And, as proper and ladylike as she was, charming all of her suitors, she had had her eyes only on one man. Hinagiku's father had been a gardener from the outskirts of Rukongai. A country bumpkin with an unusual accent and a complete opposite to what her Grandmother had had in mind as her daughter's match. However, a single night of passion had been enough to wreck all of Kobashigawa Setsuko's plans of greatness and power for her family name.

Hinagiku had always reminded her Grandmother of who exactly her daughter had chosen as the perfect suitor. And, that had never truly boded well for the young Shinigami. After her mother's untimely death she had been left at her Grandmother's mercy. And Kobashigawa Setsuko had seen a ray of hope in her old age. She had seen a new chance.

If she could only groom this child.

Then, perhaps, there was still a chance for greatness.

And then, Hinagiku had gone and shown her own Kobashigawa will and enrolled herself into the Shin'ō Academy.

After that, there had really been no point in attempting to please her Grandmother. The woman had shown her resentment openly, cold as ice. She was, after all, a judge of the Central 46. She wouldn't be humiliated by being associated with a lowly Shinigami. Even after all the training which Hinagiku had had, she couldn't rise in rank. If she had made a Seat, perhaps her Grandmother would've been pleased. Or, perhaps a Lieutenant's or even a Captain's position would've been more to the woman's liking. The way she was now, she was no good.

Hinagiku let out a small sigh, trying to chase those thoughts away from her head. It seemed that at times like these, when she was all bruised and battered, her Grandmother's words would come and haunt her. That was one of the reasons why she liked to keep herself busy. If she was busy, she wouldn't be able to think. If she didn't have the time to let her thoughts wander, they wouldn't go back to all of those cold gazes and all of those harsh words.

With yet another sigh, the petite girl wrapped her wounds tightly, before dressing into a simple white kimono and heading out of the baths.

Why were there so many steps?

She seemed to be going down, down and then down some more. She had never liked going up, but this was a bit too much of descending for her. She could only imagine how the climb back upwards would be. Probably tiring. Her mouth was likely going to go dry and she would need to rush to the kitchenette at the barracks and get a couple of mouthfuls of water right away.

Why was she going down?

Well, there was something there that she needed. She couldn't quite remember what, but she was sure that once she reached the end of these thrice-damned stairs that she would remember. After all, she had a great memory. She could list her meals back at least four weeks. Every meal. For every day. That was a great way to practice your memory. At least, that's what the books said.

Where is the bottom, though?

She couldn't see that far down. Obviously, someone needed to turn on the lights in here. It was really, really dark. As in, she could see perhaps one or two steps in front of her and nothing else. She was certain that there were walls on either side of her, because she could feel the presence of a barrier, but she couldn't really see them. Perhaps it was only her imagination.

Should she reach out and check?

No. The answer was as clear in her mind in a second as the bad feeling which rose in her belly at the idea. That was alright, she could do without the lights. Well, as long as she could see where she was going, right? She needed a plan and a schedule. By the Soul King, she hoped that she wouldn't be late. She was already running a bit late.

Wasn't she?

She wasn't sure. But, she did have that feeling in the pit of her stomach which told her that she could hurry up a bit if she wanted to. After all, they weren't going to wait for her the whole day. Yes, she would do exactly that.

But, where exactly was she going?

The girl stopped. She didn't know, she realized. She had no idea where these stairs led, just that they went down. There was a dread in her stomach, the kind that she often got before a big, dangerous mission and the girl bit her lip.

Should she turn back?

That didn't feel right. Going back didn't feel right. She needed to go on. Something inside of her was telling her to keep walking. To always keep walking forward and to never stop. There was no sense in stopping or going back, only in moving forwards. She agreed with that. One could only learn from the past. There was nothing else to it.

But, what would be on the end?

A distant memory came to her, kind of like a dream. Or, a dream of a dream. It was of a woman with a kind voice and very soft, long hair that smelled of gardenias. The woman wasn't letting her look at the end of the book. Instead, she was reminding her to read the whole story, from the beginning to the end.

"It's not about the end, my little daisy. It's about the journey."

And the girl stepped down, into the darkness, into the unknown, and into the first day of the rest of her journey.

That's all for now folks!
Hope that you've enjoyed the ride :)

Onto the reviews!

Girl-luvs-manga: I hope that the chapter was a good read :D

RedBexley: Thank you so much for the review! I blush at the thought of someone binge-reading my stuff :) Hopefully, you won't be waiting for long :D

XxGrimShadowxX: Thank you so much for the lovely review! I hope that the chapter lived up to the hype :D I promise more Shin coming soon :D

Hybrid301: Thank you for the review! I hope that I'm turning you around on the topic of OC stories :P I love reading and writing them! :D

Marie: I hope that the radio goes well with the chapter? :P I listen to a whole bunch of music when writing :)

bookangel1624: Hi! Welcome to the family and thank you for the review! I promise that there will be more Toshiro and Hina together later on :P I need them to get to know each other a bit, no? :D

amazonannielove: So happy to see you in the reviews! I'm glad that you're still enjoying the story and I hope that I'm keeping up the quality :D Look forward to what's to come :P I promise some big stuff soon hehehehe

katiewinchester87: Thank you for the wonderful review! I'm not really frequent on AO3 and really need to update this story there xD On the other hand, I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story! I'm so happy that you like the OCs and what I've been doing with them so far :) Also, quality over quantity! Very important :D Hope you enjoyed the chapter :D

Thank you for reading!