It was the pure and simple truth: if getting a bankai did not, in turn, mean challenging Keiko to a rematch, he would have throttled her long ago. It wasn't because she randomly yelled at him or smacked him (he found -that- fairly entertaining, for the most part), but he was just frustrated that he had made hardly any progress, and she was the only person in reach to take his anger out on. Night after night, the same thing would happen: he would sit on the ground while Keiko tried to form some sort of mental link between them, but continually wound up throwing up or coughing violently. A few times, he suggested going back to the old way (even though he -hated- the idea), but every time she would get all pissy and say no. Stubborn woman.

As usual, Kenpachi sat perched on a boulder at the execution grounds, an hour or two before Keiko was due, and tried his best to communicate with his zanpakuto. He would be silent, his eye closed, body relaxed, zanpakuto held in his hands, and he would picture the weapon in his mind. She was right about one thing - once he had gotten the hang of it, he could perfectly visualize his zanpakuto with a single touch. But that seemed to be it. He couldn't figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next. He tried mentally coaxing his zanpakuto to talk to him, tried visualizing the blade taking on some human shape, he even got the point of gripping the hilt and shaking it, as though he were choking someone. Nothing worked, and it only fed his frustration.

"I think I can do it this time," Keiko said, sitting down on the ground and motioning for him to sit beside her. He did.

"What makes you think ya' can do it this time?"

"I don't know," she replied, looking up at him. "I mean, last night, yeah, I threw up, blah, blah, blah, but, I can tell I'm getting used to the shock. It doesn't hit me as hard. Don't know why, but I can just tell."

Kenpachi merely shrugged. He had wanted to give up days ago, more annoyed with himself than anything else, but Keiko wouldn't hear it. Stupid woman.. There was a possibility that if this all worked out, she might kill herself, and even then, he -still- might not learn his zanpakuto's name. Seemed to be a waste to let a perfectly good opponent just die like that. Then who would he fight? Ichigo? The idea didn't excite him anymore. Ichigo was like yesterday's fad; fighting him would be boring after he had fought Keiko.

"Whenever you're ready," he muttered, closing his eye and letting his massive body relax. He felt her finger touch his forehead, and as usual, felt a twinge run through his body, like a low voltage of electricity coursing across his skin. Aside from the initial tingling sensation, Kenpachi never felt, heard or saw anything else happen, at least until he felt the link sever. The moment she would remove her finger, his skin felt as though it had been dipped in freezing cold water, then exposed to very hot air. It was strange and uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt like it obviously hurt Keiko.

This time, though, the link stayed in place longer than he could remember. Maybe she -was- getting the hang of it. The thought was confirmed when he felt his stomach flip and all the blood in his body rushed to his head. A kaleidoscope of colors flashed before his eyes, various reds, blacks and whites, and despite trying to tell his body 'no', he felt disgustingly nauseous. Before he fell forward and threw up his dinner, everything stopped moving and rushed into place. Opening his eye, he blinked a few times and noticed that he couldn't see the execution grounds. There was no ground, no sky, no walls, but despite that, everywhere he looked, he saw red.

"What the fuck?" he asked, turning to look at Keiko beside him, but she wasn't there. Well, shit, had she finally done it?

So... what was he supposed to do now? She hadn't exactly explained it to him aside from mentioning that she would be the one to try and figure out what was going on. So, what should he do in the meantime?

Without really thinking, Kenpachi stood up, and finally noticed that his zanpakuto wasn't in his hands, nor at hiw waist. Brow furrowing, he quickly looked around, but it just wasn't there. Shrugging, he picked a direction and started moving forward, but absolutely nothing changed. Everything remained red, and nothing came into view. Raising a hand in front of him, he stared at it for a moment, but it seemed normal - normal white color of his skin, the same scars scattered along his fingers and palm. He looked back up, and everything was still red. Trippy..

The sound of rustling chains met his ears, and immediately, a shiver ran up his spine as he felt another person's aura. For lack of a better description, the aura was creepy. It didn't seem human, but it felt purely malicious, as though it wanted to rip Kenpachi to shreds. Not something he would admit, but it -scared- him, and Kenpachi didn't scare... at -all-...

He quickly whirled around and his eye locked on a black.. void. Straight across from him, an area, maybe ten yards before him, pulsated, black in color. The blackness seemed to be absorbing the redness of the area, and it was growing, though slowly. The longer he looked, the more it felt as though his mind were playing tricks on him. As the black void grew, Kenpachi felt himself getting smaller, but just as he was about to look away, he heard the rustling of chains again, and from the center of the black void, he could see something take shape.

Because of the distance between him and the black void, it was hard for Kenpachi to tell what exactly it was that was taking shape. He was beginning to feel nauseous again, but this time he couldn't take his eye off the void.

"What are you doing here?"

Kenpachi shuddered at hearing the voice.. or, voices. It was an overlap of male and female, young and old voices, and it echoed, eerily. He opened his mouth to say that he didn't know, but he couldn't speak, he could only stare. A human form took shape, and, unsure whether or not he could trust his sight, he thought it wore a Shinigami uniform. The human, the thing, whatever it was, was red, like the rest of the area Kenpachi stood in. He saw no specific details except for a flutter of pants (the hakama, if he was right about the uniform) and the swaying of chains. The thing had black chains coiled around its body, it's arms, legs, waist, neck, and the ends swayed in the air, clinking quietly. Where the face should have been located was another black void.

Heart pounding in his chest, Kenpachi found himself breathing heavily, droplets of sweat beginning to slide down his face and neck. In his entire life, Kenpachi had never been scared. Why would he? He wasn't afraid of dying, and, as far as he knew, nothing could kill him. What else was there to -be- afraid of? But this thing, this person, it scared him. He didn't know what it was, what it was doing. All he knew, was that it hated him. It wanted his blood, it wanted to make him bleed, wanted to make him suffer. The aura he could feel emitting from it was pure chaos and hate, it was animalistic, it was uncontrollable.

"What are you doing here?"

The question was repeated, different voices overlapping. And again, Kenpachi opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn't.

A shriek filled the air, so loud, so painful, that Kenpachi wanted to reach up and cover his ears. He couldn't, because the thing was running at him. He started to backup, but before it -should- have reached him, it was in his face, chains rattling loudly. The only thing that filled his vision was the things face, or rather, the mask that covered it. The mask was red, like the rest of its body, oval in shape, and it covered the entirety of the face except for the eyes where there was a horizontal slit for each eye. Rather than eyes, Kenpachi saw black, darkness, nothingness, voids, tendrils of black seeping shadows. And then he fell over.

With a shout, the 11th Squad Captain was on his feet and backing up. But apparently, he had woken up. He saw the execution grounds, the moon and stars, Keiko curled up on the ground at his feet. His heart was continuing to pound, the sweat already beginning to dry. When he saw Keiko begin to shift, he knelt down and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her back, trying to get her to look up at him. "Was that it? Was that my zanpakuto?"

Keiko groaned, her bangs shading her eyes. "If you have to ask that, you should know the answer. You'd recognize your zanpakuto if you saw it," she replied, her voice quiet and gritty, as though she had swallowed sand.

"Then what the fuck WAS that thing?!" he yelled, shaking her. Kenpachi didn't understand. If he couldn't understand something, couldn't ignore it and he couldn't kill it, it scared him. He was frantic.

Lifting her head up, a wry smile spread over Keiko's lips. "It was mine."

hakama - the "pants" part of the Shinigami uniform

I apologize for this being so short. I have plenty more to write about, but it just doesn't seem right to add anything to this chapter. Oh well.

Actual BLEACH-verse and characters (c) to all the respective people.

Akuuno Keiko (c) me, General Junos.