HALCYON DAYS
Volume Five: Drowned in the Rain
Chapter Three

Ganju was more excitable than usual from the nosebleed seats.

"I actually know this guy!" he grinned to Kūkaku. "Ichigo fought him when we infiltrated the Seireitei. He was a vicious little cuss then, but he softened up a ton after getting his butt beat."

"He looks like he must have been a Rukon once upon a time," Kūkaku observed, getting a close-up of Renji with her spyglass. "That must be how Ichigo softened his cold heart: he actually had one to start with."

Renji looked on with some bemusement at Akon from across the arena stage. It was weird seeing the SDRI techie wearing a Zanpakutō around his waist. Renji hadn't even realized Akon possessed one until now.

"Alright, are you all ready for the second half of today's festivities?" Chiwa Kikazu asked the crowd, his amplified voice echoing throughout the champagne coliseum. He was met with a resounding yes as the thousands of Rukon and Seireitei citizens alike cheered for more combat.

"We have a rather interesting matchup for you teed up," Chiwa continued, theatrically gesturing to the two fighters. "Representing the Sixth Division, Lieutenant Abarai Renji! And hailing from the Twelfth Division, Akon! Can intellect overcome brawn? We shall see!"

Renji frowned, feeling a bit slighted. Is he saying I don't have any intellect? Akon sure as shit doesn't have brawn.

"Let the fourth round of the Jūsankentaikai commence!" Chiwa cried before retreating from the stage.

"Oh no, this is gonna be painful, isn't it?" Kiyone sighed from the stands, watching the stage through her fingers. "Akon doesn't stand any chance."

"Well... probably not," Rangiku replied with a carefree laugh. "I'd be worried about Renji making an ugly spectacle of things if this were a few weeks ago, but ever since he fought that Ichigo boy, he's been much more humble. He'll let Akon down gently. I'm sure of it."

"You're all so ready to jump to conclusions," Yumichika smirked at them. "Even bugs carry stingers. Wait and see."

Akon was visibly sweating and fumbling with his uniform, looking frantic. Renji crossed his arms, feeling a pang of pity.

"I'm not gonna humiliate you, if that's your concern," he said. "I know you didn't even wanna fight – "

Akon held up a finger.

"Can you just give me a second, please?"

"Oh, um... yeah, sure," Renji blushed.

"Thanks," Akon sighed, rummaging around in his Shihakushō. "I just need... alright, got it!"

He fished out a thimble-sized vial from one of his pockets and shook it, the purple mixture within swishing around.

"For a second there I worried I might have forgotten to store this," he laughed bashfully. He uncorked the vial and promptly drank it. His pupils dilated to an eerie, all-encompassing black.

"What's the meaning of this?!" Tetsuzaemon roared from the stands, bolting upright. "Are you trying to make a mockery of this tournament, Akon?! Referee, how is that possibly legal!"

"Hm?" Chiwa chirped from the sidelines, looking up at the irate lieutenant. "Is there something amiss, Lieutenant Iba?"

"Since when are performance-enhancing drugs allowed?" Tetsuzaemon protested, so animated that Isane was holding him back by the scruff of his Shihakushō. "Shouldn't that be grounds for instant disqualification?"

"I suppose some clarification is needed," Chiwa chuckled softly before brandishing his microphone.

"My dear spectators, you have just witnessed Third Seat Officer Akon drink a mysterious concoction; this may have understandably prompted confusion amongst you!" he boomed. "Allow me to explain why this is allowed: the rules of the Jūsankentaikai forbid black market drugs, true enough. However, we do permit weapons that are an honest part of a Shinigami's arsenal.

"Before this competition commenced, Akon produced several chemical compounds to our jury for inspection. He provided sufficient evidence that he invented and patented each potion, making him their originator. It was all done by the book and over the table, and so this match will continue without further argument about the validity of his techniques! Thank you."

Chiwa shot Tetsuzaemon a haughty shrug and holstered his microphone.

"Fair enough," Renji grinned, satisfied by the explanation. "So what did you whip up, Akon?"

"I'd rather not spoil the surprise," Akon replied, trying to maintain his composure despite noticeably fidgeting. "You can release your Shikai now, Lieutenant Abarai. I'm ready for you."

Renji cocked his eyebrow. We'll see about that. He unsheathed his katana.

"Howl, Zabimaru!" He whipped his arm back, the blade flashing into its true form. "It's not too late to forfeit," he warned, Zabimaru's segmented blades clinking in his grip. "You sure you wanna try me?"

Akon seemed to be in a daze; he blinked belligerently in response before his eyes refocused. After an audible gulp, he gave an affirmative nod.

"Uh... yeah, I think so."

"Alright then!" Renji nodded. He slung his right arm downward, Zabimaru launching forward and simultaneously unfurling into a fanged whip.

Cries of awe emanated throughout the stadium. Renji's Shikai was renowned for being among the most visually spectacular in the Gotei, and it was living up to its legend.

"Cool!" Yūshirō cried gleefully.

The whip surged straight at Akon, moving faster than most Shinigami could ever react, only for the techie to dodge it with a shuffling sidestep. Zabimaru retracted and returned back to an agog Renji.

How the hell did he do that?

Recovering his composure, Renji slung Zabimaru like a lasso and whipped it around for a sideswipe, the segmented blade whirring counterclockwise across the stage. It came within a foot of Akon's left shoulder... only for him to flop down flat on his side, the whip flashing over him ineffectually.

Renji recalled his Zanpakutō again. He was flummoxed.

Something's wrong. Akon hasn't gotten any faster, I'm sure of it. There's no way he's anticipating Zabimaru's movements ahead of time, either. But there's no way those reactions are instinctual. They might be sloppy, but they're deliberate. Creative, even. It's like he's gaming out different avenues of escape whenever I take a swing and landing on the exact right choice through a process of elimination... with under a second to make up his mind each time.

Up in the stands, the other officers were equally gobsmacked.

"How'd Akon dodge Renji's attack?" Kiyone murmured. "Zabimaru was moving like lightning. I couldn't even follow it!"

"Me neither," Isane laughed nervously. "Renji's become pretty terrifying. But Akon... it was like he saw it coming from a mile away."

Akon awkwardly ambled back up onto his feet and dusted himself off.

"Nice reflexes," Renji said begrudgingly. "I'm guessing your smooth moves come from whatever you juiced yourself with?"

"Correct," Akon nodded, his words disquietingly over-articulated and eyes dilated like a lemur's. "Sorry if I seem a little weird right now. The effects of this drug are pretty –"

Renji flash-stepped right beside him with Zabimaru clasped back into its solid state. He swung the blade down, only for Akon to throw himself back at a diagonal angle to avoid the edge by a hairsbreadth. He stumbled back three yards before regaining his balance.

"... Pretty, pretty intense," he finished, following up with a sheepish cough.

"I've never seen you train a single day in all these years, but you've already made the gap in our speed moot," Renji huffed. "The hell did you drink?"

"I haven't come up with a name for it yet," Akon admitted with a self-conscious tug at his Shihakushō. "Not really sure how to clearly explain it, either. I guess... you know what people say when two masters fight? Their swords appear to move in slow motion?"

"I know what you're talking about, yeah." Renji relaxed his stance, his interest piqued.

"It's like time slows down for them, right?" Akon continued. "That's because their senses are so sharpened, the whole world moves at a different pace. I wanted to replicate that effect, so I created a drug that heightens the senses in such a way that time moves a whole lot slower. I wouldn't be able to dodge Zabimaru if I was perceiving it with my natural senses. But when I can see it moving at only 1/50th of its natural speed? I can react accordingly."

"So your drug slows down time?" Renji was feeling equal parts admiration and trepidation. "That's pretty nuts, man."

"It slows down my perception of time," Akon blushed, feeling embarrassed for being a stickler. "It's advantageous, but the overall effect is terrifyingly trippy. I'm having a hard time speaking coherently right now because my own words sound so slow and drawn out to my ears. I'm going to unseal my Zanpakutō now, alright?"

He unsheathed his blade, a nondescript katana with a moss-colored hilt.

"Sorry, Lieutenant Abarai. I hope you didn't have your heart set on winning this tournament. I take no pleasure in crushing dreams. Twirl, Shunmonougeji Rinkan."

瞬物憂げ時林冠 Shunmonougeji Rinkan (Flash-Melancholy Canopy)

Renji's brow raised in apprehension as he watched Akon's sword refashion into a rather odd-looking contraption: five jet-black propeller blades drooped into the shape of a parasol, fringed with a viridescent crepe. The blades were conjoined by a curved handle which Akon held like a dainty umbrella.

"So that's Akon's Zanpakutō, huh?" Tetsuzaemon scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting design."

Renji assumed a Migi Gedan no Kamae stance, unsure of what to expect. "Expecting some rain?" he quipped.

"That's funny, Lieutenant Abarai!" Akon chuckled, genuinely amused. "Just a second. A one, and a two..."

The blades began a slow spin until soon enough they were whirring at a gusting speed. Akon's feet left the ground as he took to the air, his parasol emitting modest swirls of Reiatsu. Soft murmurs of awe swept through the crowd as everyone watched him levitate up into the sky.

I guess I'll just have to swat him down, Renji smirked.

He jutted his arm upward, sicking Zabimaru after Akon. The segmented sword launched and separated, its fanged blades gleaming while the metallic sinew interconnecting them hissed.

Akon realized he was a couple inches off. He tilted his parasol handle at a 40 degree angle, prompting the Zanpakutō to lift him even higher up. Zabimaru's frontal blade sailed towards him like a well-aimed spear, coming within inches of the soles of his feet until it suddenly snapped back, like a snake stretched to its breaking point.

"Huh?" Renji bleated, his determined expression dropping into a derp face.

"32 meters," Akon said while watching the Zanpakutō straining to reach him in vain. "That's how far Zabimaru extends, right? You can't reach me up here, Lieutenant Abarai."

"Akon's quite a smart cookie," Rangiku remarked.

"A cowardly cookie if he really intends on floating out of range this whole fight," Tetsuzaemon rejoined.

Dammit! Renji cursed, retracting Zabimaru back into its conjoined state with a clink. This'd be a whole lot easier if we were fighting in the World of the Living. I could just leap up there and create Reishi footholds to fight on his level. But that's impossible inside the Seireiheki.

Yamamoto, Shunsui, and Sasakibe watched from the Captain-Commander's box seat.

"Akon is faring far better than expected," Shunsui clucked. "Your battle against Lieutenant Abarai may no longer be so inevitable, Chōjirō-san."

Sasakibe looked on with a placidity that could be mistaken for boredom.

"We shall see if Abarai can overcome such a creative challenge," he said, scrutinizing Renji closely. "If this is truly the end, then I simply misjudged him."

Up in the air, Akon subtly adjusted the angle of his parasol and puttered around the coliseum's upper levels in circular arcs. Down below on the arena stage, Renji was turning pink with frustration.

"Buddy, you're being a pain in the ass!"" he barked up at Akon. "Get back down here and fight me face-to-face!"

Akon sighed. Alright. Suit yourself.

He tilted Shunmonougeji Rinkan's handle and dived down to meet Renji like a missile.

You're getting cocky. Renji grinned. That can only be good for me!

He spun around and whipped Zabimaru with an underhand swing, the blade disconnecting and surging up to meet Akon. It was to no avail: when the whip came within six feet of hitting its target, Akon swerved slightly to the right and flew down past, continuing his chopper dive unabated.

Renji squinted, spotting something in Akon's hand. The techie threw down a glass ball before tilting his parasol and swerving back up into the sky.

The hell is that?! Renji gawped, spotting the plum-shaped vial hurtling down at him. He threw his left arm up to shield himself. The vial smashed against his elbow and released a purple plume.

Don't breathe it in. Don't breathe it in! DON'T BREATHE IT IN!

Unfortunately for Renji, the concoction was designed to seep through skin. It was already in his system.

He felt his heart skip a beat. Suddenly, his his brown eyes were blotted black. He stumbled back a step, Zabimaru flailing down onto the arena and cracking the tiles upon impact. The Shikai slowly recoiled back and returned to its conjoined state in Renji's grip. He nearly dropped the blade, his hands clammy and shaken.

What did he just gas me with?!

Renji clutched at his chest to steady his heart rate. He looked around and immediately noticed a bizarre phenomena: the jostling crowd was moving like molasses, the tiny imperceptible movements of a thousand spectators fluttering like a stuttering camera stock. He craned his head up to spot his opponent in the sky. The effort of straining his neck muscles and tilting his skull back felt like it took an entire minute to complete. Everything was agonizingly slow.

Akon loomed like a vulture in the air, looking down at Renji with a sympathetic grimace. His propeller was chattering away.

I hope you can forgive me someday for giving you such a stiff dose, Lieutenant Abarai. The optimal amount of the drug is one drop diluted to 1/250,000th of its original concentration. Anything more concentrated than that defeats the purpose and severely impairs your reaction time. I just gave you a whiff of a drop that was only diluted to about 1/120,000th, so you're in for a very long haul.

Renji was sweating profusely, feeling the beads trickle down his forehead at a snail's pace. To test his new sense of time, he gingerly stomped his left foot forward.

C'mon, friggin' move! he thought while willing his leg to lurch ahead, his tendons contracting and stretching laboriously. After what felt like five minutes, his foot finally touched back down onto the tile. When he let out a gasp of panic, it took his breath two full minutes to rise up from his chest and escape past his lips. That's how it felt, anyway.

That's not good. Completing just a single step took so long that he needed to strain to remember the action he wanted to achieve in the first place.

Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!

Genryūsai carefully studied Renji from afar, intuiting what was happening through mere observation.

"How cruel," the Captain-Commander muttered. "Chōjirō, inform Central 46 that I want Akon's concoction outlawed from any further production. Turn the patent over to Captain Kurotsuchi. We cannot allow this torture to become commonplace."

Sasakibe nodded. "It will be done, Captain-Commander."

Meanwhile, the spectators were growing restless, tired of watching Akon putter around in the air while Renji seemed to fidget aimlessly.

"The hell's going on down there?" Ganju grumbled. "What did that freak tag Abarai with?"

"I'm not sure," Kūkaku murmured, studying Renji's face with her spyglass. "Whatever it was... it doesn't look pleasant."

Akon could hear the groans of discontent rippling throughout the crowd. I guess it's now or never.

He tilted his whirring parasol and dove back down towards the arena, landing onto the tile with an awkward skip. He stood only two yards away from Renji.

Renji tried to pivot and face him, but his body was moving with all the haste of a sloth. I swear, Akon, when I get my hands on you...

Akon hoisted Shunmonougeji Rinkan up like a shotgun and aimed it straight at him.

"Sorry Lieutenant Abarai, but I actually want to win this whole thing," he muttered. "Inkiakubi."

陰気欠伸 Inkiakubi (Gloomy Yawn)

Shunmonougeji Rinkan started to spin again, picking up a roaring momentum until a modest twister shot from the whirring blades, engulfing Renji like a wind turbine. The gust wasn't strong enough to knock Renji flat, but it was enough to push him back inch by inch. He strained his muscles and tried to sidestep away from the attack's vicinity, but his reaction time was simply too feeble.

Akon pressed forward, his propeller chattering away. The technique was gradually-but-surely pushing Renji out of the arena stage like the sweep of a broom.

"If Akon actually knocks him off like this, Renji will never live it down," Yumichika giggled to the other officers, practically blushing with delight at the perversity of it all.

Not good, not good! Renji thought, his dread having plenty of time to mount while he was gusted back. I'm trapped in my own body! Think of something, dammit!

He tried to lift Zabimaru, only to discover that the motion was so laborious and drawn out that he couldn't hope to sling the whip in any reasonable amount of time.

When your body becomes so slow to respond to your instincts, so does your Zanpakutō, Akon observed while watching Renji impotently flail around. He grimaced, hating how inelegant this all was. It was like picking up a helpless child and tossing them overboard.

Still, this is the only way I can beat him.

The long-suffering Vice President of SDRI had always resented the organization's leader, who also happened to be his captain: Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Akon never liked the sick sonofabitch; he hated taking orders from him and loathed being overshadowed by his technological achievements.

If he won the tournament outright, he'd become a captain and finally have the leeway to disobey Mayuri. It was plenty of incentive for him to put Renji through hell.

He pressed on, his puny technique still forceful enough to pressure Renji back towards the ledge.

"Push him off!" an excitable spectator cried from the stands.

"Yeah, shove him!" another voice chimed in.

Soon enough, the coliseum rumbled with cries of "SHOVE HIM OFF! SHOVE HIM OFF! SHOVE HIM OFF!"

Renji was at his wit's end, experiencing all of this as a slow-motion nightmare. While only a mere minute had passed since Akon began his onslaught, it felt like several hours for him. Full goddamn hours.

"Poor Renji," Rangiku sighed. "At least this will be over soon."

Renji's heels were mere inches away from the stadium's edge. Soon enough he'd topple over. He had plenty of time to mull over whether this was a good or bad outcome.

If I just stop resisting, it'll be over. He shut his eyes and desperately sought an internal pocket of zen. Akon got the better of me; he deserves to win. I should just be thankful Rukia isn't here to see this...

Try as he might, he couldn't find his zen. There was no corner of his mind where he felt at peace with the inevitability of defeat. He wondered why he couldn't just let go.

Why can't I accept the inevitable?

He opened his eyes and realized he had instinctually craned his head up to look at the Kuchiki loge that was nestled across the stadium. From a great distance, he was staring directly into Byakuya Kuchiki's eyes.

They were cold and dispassionate. But somewhere in those flecks of gray was a spark of... not encouragement, exactly, but a gauntlet thrown.

A steel thread of resolve snapped in Renji's heart. His heels were now over the arena's ledge. One more inch, and he'd topple over.

I... I... I HAVE TO WIN!

Zabimaru, as if possessing a mind of its own, separated back into its segmented fangs and surged towards Akon like a viper.

Akon hastily threw himself aside, narrowly dodging the snaking blade's bulldozing charge. Zabimaru veered past him, its teeth bared before burying itself into a tile like an axe. Renji, already falling over the arena's ledge, yelped with surprise when his Zanpakutō coiled itself and yanked him forward, as if he were a mackerel hooked on a fishing line. He fell onto his knees in a huff, safely returned to the stage.

Akon stumbled back nervously, astonished by what he was seeing. How is this possible?!

The stadium erupted with whoops, most of the spectators merely delighted by the reversal of fortune. All of the captains, however, looked on with stunned recognition.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or did your lieutenant just accomplish a marvelous feat, Byakuya?" Tenrai-chō Ginrei murmured.

"Your eyes have not deceived you, Grandfather," Byakuya replied. "Even while under the paralyzing effects of Akon's drug, Renji has harmonized with his Zanpakutō to the point that it is acting on its own accord."

"Like a phantom limb," Ginrei concurred.

It was an exceedingly rare occurrence, but sometimes, in moments of great duress, captain-level Shinigami were able to harmonize with their Zanpakutō so perfectly that the blade could act out independently and execute actions that its master was too discombobulated or physically lame to consciously command. It was akin to a synaptic reflex.

"Perhaps this is an unintended side effect of that infernal potion?" Ginrei pondered. "Either way, the lad is most impressive."

"He still has much to learn," Byakuya said. "Given his usual state of mindfulness, this is nothing but a miraculous fluke. However; Renji has recently made a habit of miraculous flukes."

Akon thrust Shunmonougeji Rinkan back up and let it rip, the whirring blades lifting him off the ground.

Renji's elongated blade whipped itself back to life, its frontal tooth ripping up the arena tile it had latched onto and slung it up at Akon like a trebuchet.

Dammit! Akon swerved his parasol to avoid the incoming brick. However, just as he narrowly dodged the projectile, Zabimaru surged up to head him off.

He spotted the hissing blade too late. This time, even his enhanced senses weren't fast enough. The head of Renji's Shikai hooked into Akon's shoulder, sawing through bone and sinew. The whip surged down like a curving rainbow, taking him along with it.

Zabimaru shot down and landed outside of the arena stage, pinning Akon into the ground.

"Yes!" Tetsuzaemon grinned.

Akon let out a gasp while his blood spurted onto the sand. His sensation of pain was being prolonged by the time-dilating drug in his system. It was absolute agony.

"Winner by ring-out, Abarai Renji!" Chiwa announced.

The spectators erupted into ecstatic cheers and jeers. The roiling applause reached Renji like a long, endless drone.

Suddenly, a fuse in his brain burst. His eyes rolled back into their lids and he slumped face-first onto the ground.

Zabimaru shuddered and went limp.