The sun just reached its zenith, shining brightly on the green world below. Its rays were soft and inviting, warming all it touched like a woollen quilt. White, fluffy clouds were sparsely spread in the baby blue sky, casting the occasional shadow as they floated past the sun. The wind was gentle but playful, taking along the scent of nature as it rustled leaves and other flora.

Zan heaved a deep breath, taking in the smell of grass and dry earth that surrounded him. He hadn't moved in over an hour, simply bathing in the sun's warmth. For once, his shades actually had a use. The orange glasses were perched on his nose, protecting his eyes from the bright and intense light.

It had been a little over a month since the defeat of Yhwach. Forty-nine days, to be precise. In those seven weeks, both a lot and almost nothing happened. The direct aftermath of the Thousand-Year Blood War was the chaos in Soul Society. Fortunately, the new Head-Captain - Kyōraku Shunsui - had much more sympathy than his predecessor. He had ushered Ichigo and his human friends back to the World of the Living, assuring them he would take care of the immediate fallout.

"Go home and rest. You have more than deserved it. We'll contact you when needed but for now, enjoy your victory".

So, that is what they have done.

Ichigo had gone to bed and slept for nearly a week, only waking to eat and use the bathroom. An example his spirits followed without needing to be told.

Zan had taken the time to come to terms with the death of Yhwach, a death he had aided in realising. He may be Ichigo's zanpakutō now, but he - his conscience - had originated from Yhwach. He had been him once upon a time. It had whipped up strange emotions within him, ones he needed to work through before he could put a definitive end to that part of his (previous) life.

Getsu had fallen asleep the second Ichigo had dropped out of Bankai. The fight with Yhwach had been rough on the Hollow-zanpakutō, not only physical but also psychological. His mind simply conked out and went on a six-day vacation to recover. When he woke up, Getsu had been uncharacteristically reserved. He did strike up conversations whenever he saw fit and eagerly replied whenever he was spoken to. Yet, he did not try to provoke either Ichigo or Zan to fight with him.

In a show of selflessness, Getsu was curbing his desire for battle. Respecting his wielder's needs and honouring Zan's wish to take it slow. Without having to be asked.

However, as the days passed, Getsu started to lose his composure. He grew more antsy and irate. After day twenty, he began venting his aggression in the vast landscape of the Inner World. Destroying hundreds - if not - millions of trees at a time.

Surprisingly enough, it was Ichigo who voiced his need for a spar first. Their wielder had come down in the Mindscape one afternoon, asking how they felt about picking up their routine again. Needless to say, Getsu nearly pounced him then and there.

Saturday would be the day their training regime would be resumed. Just a mere four days from now. Getsu couldn't wait to fight against an opponent again.

Literally.

An explosion of spiritual-pressure in the distance was what notified Zan of his counterpart's shattered patience. Getsu's signature was rapidly approaching, using his fastest Sonìdo, by the sounds of it.

'Shades!' Getsu burst through the shrubbery. His sudden arrival caused a disruption in the air, whipping up a fair bit of leaves and pollen. The spirit was flushed in his face, a blue hue dusting his cheeks. His breathing was deep and quick from the sudden sprint he had taken, having covered hundreds of miles in mere seconds. 'Spar with me!'

Zan didn't even look up, 'Ichigo will spar with you on Saturday'.

'I can't wait until Saturday!', Getsu hissed.

'You have waited forty-three days, four more should not be that hard'.

'Those four days are the difference between me staying in Shikai and me going Bankai', Getsu said. 'And ya know how Geta-Boshi gets when his basement gets nuked'.

'Ichigo will not bail you out this time', Zan warned.

'Tch, of course, he will', Getsu dismissed. 'He's got too kind of a heart'.

'And you will take advantage of his kindness?'

'Not if ya spar with me'.

'Do not try to make me responsible for your own choices', Zan scolded.

'Come on, Shades! Just one round!' Getsu was almost begging now. Almost. 'I haven't asked either one of ya to spar with me for over six weeks. Would it kill ya ta humour me for once?'

No, it would not. Zan looked at his other half, seeing the expression of barely masked desperation. Heaving a deep sigh, the Quincy-zanpakutō rose to his feet. 'Alright. I will spar with you'.

'Wait, really?' The amount of shock and disbelief in Getsu's voice didn't sit right with Zan.

'You are right', Zan admitted as he dusted off his dress-shirt. 'You have behaved exceptionally well, it is only fair to reward it'.

Getsu crossed his arms with a huff, 'I ain't some dog that needs ta be trained'.

'Yet you require to be let out regularly or you will make a mess'.

Silver eyes narrowed, a hint of gold flashing through the irises. Getsu extended a hand, summoning his blade. 'I'm gonna make ya regret saying that'.

An identical weapon appeared in Zan's hand, his finger wrapping lightly around the red hilt. Within a single twirl of his wrist, the Quincy-zanpakutō shifted his posture into his preferred stance.

There was a pause…

…and then they were off.

Sparks went flying as they let their steel meet. The cacophony they created was near deafening, destroying the peace of nature that surrounded them. Getsu was swinging his sword with more force than Zan could handle. The Quincy had no choice but to deflect, parry and side-step, leaving no room for an assault of his own. Zan held out for well over an hour before Getsu managed to push him away just far enough to get a kick in. The Hollow planted his foot straight into the other's stomach, sending him skidding back a fair distance.

'Ya used Blut, didn't ya?' Getsu asked as he readied himself for the next leg of their battle.

'Your foot would have run me through if I had not', Zan replied.

Getsu merely smirked as he waited for the other to brush off his discomfort and get back into it. Zan dusted off his dress-shirt, removing the little bits of earth Getsu's boot had smudged on it. Satisfied, Zan looked at his counterpart and set off with Shunpo.

It didn't take long for them to add another dimension to their fight. Getsu was the first to break through the canopy, having blocked a particularly harsh swing from his other half. Zan followed suit, giving the hollow no time to recompose himself before they clashed swords again.

Zan lunged forward, realising his mistake a beat too late. He twisted, trying to deflect the incoming attack but it connected. Getsu jammed the pommel of his sword into the back of Zan's neck.

'That makes two'.

Rubbing the assaulted spot, Zan glared at the grinning hollow. Getsu was clearly having a blast. His spiritual-pressure wasn't lashing out anymore. It now pulsed from him in steady waves, filled with joy and killing intent.

Zan vowed to make his other half a little less joyous in the next leg.

He raised his sword, letting his hand run along the false edge.

'Hadō #32: Ōkasen'.

Getsu hadn't been paying attention. Playing a bit with the chain on his vest as he waited. His eyes briefly cast up as he heard Zan mutter something under his breath. They widened to comical proportions as he saw the yellow arc head in his direction.

An explosion of sound was birthed into existence as Getsu used Sonìdo to evade the offensive kidō. He skidded to a stop well over a mile away, swatting at his shoulder where the attack had grazed him. In a flash, the hollow was up in Zan's face. Barely held back by Zan's blade.

'I was waiting for ya!' he shouted.

'If you had paid attention, you would have seen it coming', Zan reasoned.

'Tch, I won't wait for ya next time'.

'Bold of you to assume you will be the one waiting'.

The irritation faded, morphing into amusement.

'Now, who's the bold one?'

They pushed apart before beginning the third leg of their fight. This part gave the two spirits the freedom to use their racial techniques. Getsu started punching Balas and firing Ceros while Zan waited patiently for an opening for his bow and arrow.

He didn't have to wait long before Getsu got a bit too ambitious. The Hollow-zanpakutō overestimated his Sonìdo. He thought he could fire off a Cero and make a dash for it before his counterpart had the time to shoot him. While in actuality, Zan had already pulled the string taut while Getsu was still charging his Cero.

Getsu cursed as he noticed the blue bow and immediately aborted his attack. He shot to the left with Shunpo, only to feel an arrow pierce his right ankle mid-stride. It threw off his balance and send him tumbling down. Only by chance did he manage to stay in the air, the heels of his boots brushing against the canopy.

'Son of a bitch', Getsu grumbled as he grabbed the arrowhead and pulled the arrow out. It dissolved once it cleared his ankle, leaving no trace of its existence. His instant-regeneration kicked in, healing the wound with a puff of white smoke.

Rotating his ankle to check if it was properly healed, Getsu shot a look at his other half. Zan had a shine of satisfaction in his eyes, twirling his released blade at his side.

With a flick of his wrist, Getsu unleashed his Shikai, as well. He swung his arm, releasing a silent Getsuga Tenshō. He followed the arc with Shunpo, throwing another one to the left to cut off Zan's escape route. The Quincy met the sword with his own without hesitation, using particle-manipulation to make his blade match in size.

This round took a lot longer. With all their techniques at their disposal, it came down to skill. Something both sides of Zangestu had an abundance of.

Getsu fought like a berserker, not planning ahead much or even choosing what to do next. He let his instinct decide what his next move would be, making him hard to predict.

Zan was more tactical. Of the two, physical strength was not his strong suit. Getsu had him beat in that regard. However, Zan had much more combat experience from his time as Yhwach. He was able to read Getsu's moves with reliable accuracy and evade most attacks thrown at him.

The two of them were locked in a tight, close-up sword exchange when Getsu spiced things up by throwing a punch. Zan had been prepared.

'Bakudō #8: Seki'.

Getsu winched as his fist was repelled, leaving him in an awkward position when Zan came with a follow-up.

'Hadō #78: Zangerin'.

The Hollow-zanpakutō side-stepped, feeling the edge of the arc cut into his bicep.

'Damnit!' Another puff of white smoke and his arm was healed up, leaving a small tear in his shirt.

'Are you ready to take things seriously?' Zan asked.

'Tch, ya say that as if I haven't been serious'.

'Have you?'

'Have you?', Getsu asked back.

No. Not yet.

Because this was it. This was the moment where things got interesting. Everything up to now had been a warm-up. From this point forward, they would aim for the kill. No more pulling punches.

The two rose their sword arm in sync, bracing their arm with their free hand. Their energy flared, whipping around them violently. They opened their mouths and bellowed in harmony:

'BAN-KAI!'

Briefly, their spiritual-pressure engulfed them. Obscuring them from view as their appearances changed.

Getsu was the first one to reveal himself. His long hair following his movement as he advanced, charging energy into his blade. A blur of black caught his eye and the hollow swung his weapon in a wide arc.

'Getsuga Tenshō!'

The blur came to a halt, twisting around to face the incoming attack. Tensa raised his hand, creating a green barrier. The arc deflected off its surface, careening it into the vast green below. The kidō shield did not go unscathed, large cracks divided the surface into millions of pieces that fell apart once it had served its purpose.

Tensa had another kidō prepared, having just finished the incantation as the shield came down.

'-The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Hadō #63: Raikōhō'.

Lightning shot from Tensa's palm, heading straight for Getsu's face. The Hollow-zanpakutō twisted. Biting through the pain as a stray bolt hit him. He swung his large, kyber-like sword at his other half, meeting the black daitō in a rain of sparks.

With the release of their individual Bankai, the two upped their game. Every move was made with purpose, every technique performed with efficiency and accuracy. Neither was willing to hand the other victory on a silver platter. They wanted to win. To do that, they had to kill the other.

It was always at this part of their fights, the last leg, that Getsu truly got into his element. Where the Hollow-zanpakutō was able to unwind the build-up stress and cackle like a maniac whenever he got a hit in.

However, that didn't happen. If anything, the longer their fight went on, the more frustrated Getsu seemed to become.

Then, out of nowhere, he lost it.

Tensa had used "Hadō #1: Shō" to create some space. He was fully prepared for Getsu to not give him a second to breathe and get right back in. Only, that didn't happen. Instead, Getsu let out a shout of rage. The Hollow snatched a lock of hair and pulled it. Without a second to reconsider, Getsu cut it off and threw it down.

Sensing his counterpart's killing intent had shifted away from his person, Tensa lowered his blade slightly. 'Is everything alright?'

'No!' Getsu snapped, firing a Cero after the falling strands to obliterate them. 'My hair keeps getting caught in these chains and it's driving me insane!'

Tensa stared at his other half, blinking slowly as he processed the unexpected answer. His lips twitched upwards, setting Getsu off again.

'Don't ya dare fucking laugh at me! It ain't funny!'

Quickly, Tensa covered his mouth to hide his amusement. 'My apologies. It is just-'. He suppressed a chuckle. 'I am not laughing at you. I just did not expect that as your answer'.

Golden eyes narrowed with suspicion, 'Sure'.

The Quincy-zanpakutō cleared his throat, 'If you want, I can solve that issue for you'.

'How?' Getsu asked.

'By tying it, of course'.

'What, yer gonna give me a ponytail or something?'

Tensa cocked his head, 'That would be fitting, would it not?' The Quincy then shook his head, dismissing the thought. 'But I have something else in mind'.

Getsu pulled his lips to one side as he considered the offer. He didn't like the fact Tensa did not elaborate further. However, the prospect of having this hair issue dealt with was very enticing.

'I know what is at stake here', Tensa spoke up suddenly. 'I will not take advantage of your trust, should you give it to me'.

Trust. It always came down to that, didn't it?

With a deep sigh, Getsu dismissed his blade. 'Fine'.

Tensa let his own weapon dematerialise, as well. He walked over to his counterpart, his eyes looking the Hollow over. Slowly, he circled the other, trying to visualise his idea to see if it was a good one.

Yes, it was.

'Ya done ogling me?'

The Quincy frowned but ignored the jab. 'Follow me'.

Getsu eyed him, 'Why? Where?'

'I need to comb your hair first and that will take some time. It would be better for us both to relocate to somewhere we can sit down', Tensa explained. 'As for where, any roof would do'.

Getsu grumbled a bit as he conceded to Tensa's reasoning. The Quincy beckoned the other to follow him and they set off. Since there was no reason to rush, Tensa used Hirenkyaku. Getsu settled for a lazy Shunpo, keeping a hold on his hair so it wouldn't get caught again.

They settled for the first building they came across, a moss-covered skyscraper. Tensa gestured with his arm to the roof, inviting Getsu to sit wherever he wanted.

'Oh, and please remove your shirt and vest. I would hate for it to snatch your hair while I work'.

Getsu complied but wasn't very happy about it. This all seemed like a huge waste of time and completely unnecessary to him. He swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside. When he went to take off his vest, his frustration returned. Somehow, some strands had managed to get tangled into the chain again. With a quick tug, he broke the hairs and quickly undid the chain-link. Getsu growled as he threw the vest to the ground, never had he both hated and loved a piece of clothing so much at the same time.

The Hollow more-or-less plopped down on the ledge of the roof, his heels colliding with the glass panes of the level below. Tensa sat down beside him, his feet on the inside of the ledge.

'If you could turn a quarter so your back faces me, I can get started'.

With a grunt, Getsu did as asked. Tensa shifted to sit more comfortably before he reached out to the sea of white tresses that cascaded down Getsu's back. Just before his fingers made contact, he pulled back.

'You are aware I need to touch your head and hair, yes?'

'For fucks sake, yes! Just get on with it already!' Getsu snapped irritated.

Tensa ignored the outburst and set to work. He reached over the bare shoulders, hooked as many strands his fingers could contain and pulled them back to him. The Quincy made sure to gather every single hair that needed his attention, already feeling many tangles that he would have to comb out. To do that, though, he required some equipment.

Manipulating the ambient energy, Tensa formed a comb in his right hand. In his left hand, he took a handful of Getsu's hair and started to comb through the white tresses. He started at the bottom and slowly worked his way up. Untangling any and all knots he came across before taking another few centimetres in the next stroke.

And there were a lot.

Tensa kept an iron grip on the hair as he combed, containing the tugging to what he held. Not that Getsu couldn't handle a bit of hair tugging. The pain it caused was nothing compared to having your heart liquified and formed into a mask. However, thanks to a certain someone, Getsu didn't respond all too kindly to having his hair pulled. No matter how gentle or unintentional it was.

Once Tensa reached the back of Getsu's neck, he separated the combed hair from the rest by moving it over the spirit's shoulder. He then gathered some hair on the opposite side and began the whole process anew.

Getsu eyed the white tresses Tensa had finished. It was much brighter than before, he noted. He hooked some with his finger and his mind exploded as it slipped from his digit like silk. He took some more and this time, the sun's light caught it. It shimmered like freshly fallen snow, making it appear as if it were glowing.

He couldn't recall a time where it had been this soft and shiny before. What kind of witchcraft was Tensa using to do this? No way a comb would be able to give such a result on its own.

'Please, do not touch it', Tensa said, pulling Getsu from his thoughts. 'It would be a shame if I had to comb it again'.

'How much longer will it take?' Getsu asked as he let go of his hair.

'I am almost halfway done', Tensa replied as he worked his way up Getsu's waist.

Not once had Getsu felt a tug or pull. Tensa was taking great care as he untangled the white tresses. Not even the back of his hand nor the teeth of the comb had touched his skin. The Quincy had also taken his spiritual-pressure into account, radiating only calm to soothe any discomfort Getsu might be experiencing.

Getsu decided to appreciate it instead of throwing a fit over it. He had been on a nightmare-free streak and preferred to maintain it for as long as possible.

Tensa finished the second part and separated it by moving it over the other shoulder. He gathered the last bit in his hands and began to comb it. As he went up, he took notice of the hole in Getsu's chest, nestled between his shoulder blades.

'Say, Tensa'.

The Quincy blinked, pulled from his thoughts by the rare phenomenon of Getsu addressing him by name. 'Yes?'

'Now we've had forty-nine days ta think about it, what are ya thoughts about our Bankai?'

The comb burst into particles as Tensa lost concentration. He huffed - an action that was comparative to Getsu cursing - and reformed the comb. 'It was…an interesting development'.

'Tch, more like "unexpected", if ya ask me'.

'Because it was different than last time', Tensa said. In response to his words, Getsu's hand moved. Tensa could see the black nailed fingers reach for the hole, only to stop before the digits went inside. Getsu grunted and nursed the skin around the hole instead.

'That's cuz we're different from last time'.

Tensa hummed, continuing to comb through the same stretch of hair unnecessarily. 'We have come a long way since then'.

And they had.

Tensa had gone from a proud Quincy that despised the idea of being a zanpakutō, who hated the fact he had to share a body with a Hollow; to being a proud zanpakutō-spirit with a Quincy heritage. Who actually enjoyed the company of his Hollow-counterpart.

Getsu's change had been caused from outside. Because Ichigo accepted him, Getsu's heart had started to beat which set in motion a series of events that made the spirit into who he was today. A Hollow with a heart.

Yet, despite all the highs and lows, may it be on their own, with their wielder or each other. They hadn't been prepared for their Bankai. Or rather, the truth that Bankai would bring to light. The truth about the zanpakutō named Zangetsu.

Getsu scowled, 'But not enough. There's a finish line now and I don't know if I wanna cross it'.

'We are not required to'.

'But we are, aren't we? If we refuse then King-' Getsu stopped, catching himself. 'If we refuse, Aibou can't use it. We have no choice'.

'There is no reason to refuse. We split afterwards, have we not?' Tensa pointed out.

'Only cuz we didn't know! If I had known then-' Again, Getsu shut his mouth. The spirit forced himself to settle back down, his frame tense and jaw set.

'I would not have let it happen, either'.

The white tresses slipped from his gentle grasp, flowing over bare shoulders as the spirit turned. Getsu whipped his head around so fast, Tensa was amazed it didn't cause a whiplash.

'You wanted- why?' Getsu asked.

'For the exact reason you have', Tensa replied. 'Because it felt right'.

The shock faded and Getsu grimaced, 'Guess that should've been obvious'. He turned his back once more, allowing Tensa to fix the damage he had done by moving.

'I suppose it should have, indeed'.

They settled into silence. The only sounds being their breathing and the comb as its teeth raked through the snow-white strands. Eventually, Tensa changed the comb into a brush.

'I do not agree with your analogy', the Quincy said as he went through the shorter hairs on Getsu's head. 'A finish line implies there is an urgency. That we can lose something if we do not hurry'.

Getsu tilted his head backwards, not even aware he was doing so. 'Then, how do you see it?'

'A destination', Tensa answered. 'We are now aware of where we are supposed to go. When and how we get there, however, is entirely up to us'.

The tension that had crept into Getsu's muscles and spiritual-pressure eased up. The Hollow-zanpakutō let out a breath, 'Yeah, I think I like that one better'.

Tensa gathered the hair and went through it a few more times for good measure. 'We do not know if it is permanent. Or, if it has the risk of becoming irreversible over time. We need to assume it will be and make our decision with that in mind'. Satisfied, he let the brush vanish and began to divide the waterfall of white into three, equal parts.

'I'm…conflicted', Getsu admitted. 'My gut says to do it. Right here and now. But my head says I'll regret that'.

'And your heart?' Tensa asked.

Getsu let out an amused scoff, 'Fuck if I know. Don't have one at the moment'.

Tensa looked at the other's back, seeing the hole. Oh, I had forgotten about that.

'What about you?' Getsu asked.

'More or less the same'. Deftly, Tensa twisted the white locks in a set pattern. Each turn of his wrists brought him further down. 'The idea of losing our individuality… my mind is too against it. For now, anyway'.

Getsu raised his left hand, looking at it. He remembered vividly how his – no, their – hand had looked. How different, yet, familiar it was. How right it had felt to move around in a body that wasn't completely his own, but still felt like it was.

'Yer right', Getsu admitted, lowering his hand. 'We should wait'.

'I think "taking our time" would be a more accurate description', Tensa said. 'This is not a race. We will get there when we will get there. Until then…' he flicked the finished product over a bare shoulder. 'This will have to do'.

Feeling a weight on his collarbone, Getsu eyed his left. He picked it up by its end, 'Ya braided it?'

'I have', Tensa said. 'It will keep your hair better contained than a ponytail would do'.

'Huh'. Getsu eyed the braid, which reached below the hole in his chest.

'Do you have a problem with it?' Tensa asked.

'Not yet', Getsu said as he also got back up. The braid stayed in place, unlike what his loose hair would have done. Which was already a major improvement.

'Here'.

Getsu hummed as he took his vest from Tensa and put it back on. He held out his hand and Tensa gave him his jacket.

'It suits you'.

'I'll take yer word for it', Getsu said with a grin as he finished up dressing.

Tensa seemed pleased at his words. With a flick of his wrist, the Quincy-zanpakutō summoned his blade. Golden eyes widened, the hollow pressure swirling in anticipation.

'Another round? Yer spoiling me here'.

'How can we have another round when we never finished our first, to begin with?' Tensa questioned with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 'Besides, how else will we determine if the braiding will hold?'

Getsu outstretched his left arm, calling for his own weapon. 'What if it won't hold?'

'Let us not jump ahead of ourselves. I am fairly confident in my braiding skills'.

'Let's see if those are grounded, then, eh?'

#

TO BE CONTINUED

#

This story wouldn't have existed without a piece of fan-art made by "HezuNeutral" on DeviantArt called "That's His Mans". It is what inspired me to write a scene about Tensa braiding Getsu's hair. One thing led to another and *boom*, this story was born. Be sure to send them some love if you ever come across it!