A/N: I know I'm in trouble for not updating for two months or so, but my life has been so freaking hellish that I've just been so shut off from the internet. So, I suggest you check out my profile for some more information on what recent events I've been doing, including changing my penname.
Oh, and I'm updating under threat of being run through by a zanpakuto..so...yeah. It's extra long.
I hope you enjoy the next chapter of Behind the Mask~
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Chapter Two
The first couple of days in the Eleventh Division were difficult for Tarena. Most of the men were leering at her left, right, and center. There was little comfort in anything she did, and her hackles were constantly raised.
Which had somehow drawn her to the Fourth seat. Hajime Fukuyama, although analytical and guarded, gave her a small sense of safety in the ranks of all the men. Already, she felt a tentative bond beginning to form with the man, and had agreed to spar with him today, for whatever reason.
Sighing, she tucked her zanpakuto through the white sash tied around her hakama and reluctantly slid open the door to make her way to the sparring grounds.
Ignore them, Tarena. They aren't worth it. her zanpakuto whispered gently as Tarena made her way through the grounds, each and every man glancing up at her and not even trying to stop the looks crossing their faces.
As if she were some kind of prize to be won.
Her zanpakuto's voice wasn't as muffled as usual today, she noted. The usual wind that swept most of her words away was less profound, and a lilt was now distinguishable in the low tone of her sword.
They're all staring. It's kind of hard not to keep myself from pounding their heads into the ground.
Just remember, cleaning duty if you do. Besides, it could be hostility they're staring at you with.
Tarena groaned silently, having completely forgotten about the threat Kiganjo had made.
I think I'd take hostility at this point. I hate this place. I feel like prey. she flicked her gaze around, feeling like retching at the gazes she met.
You're almost there. she was reassured softly before the familiar presence of her zanpakuto retreated slightly, muting their already tentative bond.
And that's supposed to comfort me? Tarena sighed sarcastically, pulling her hair back into a tail and threading her familiar red ribbon around the coppery strands before knotting and pulling it tight.
Entering the grounds, she surveyed it cautiously before sighting Hajime's form amid many others.
Now that she was paying attention, she noted the distinguishing characteristics about his figure.
Inky black strands of hair hung down to his waist, braided tightly and tied with a small white band. His skin was sunkissed, almost appearing gold in the morning sunlight, coated in a thin layer of sweat as he sparred with the group of shinigami around him. His eyes were a focused blue that vaguely reminded her of the sky, flecked with smaller shards of amber.
His uniform was different than the traditional Shihakusho, with the shitagi and kosode sleeveless, baggy at the waist and partially revealing a toned chest, along with a dark sapphire blue obi tied loosely around his waist. His hakama remained the same, along with the familiar white tabi.
Sighing, her observations done, she leaned against a nearby wall and warily waited for there to be a break in all the men.
So, any chance I'm going to learn your name soon? she idly wondered to the once again present sword at the back of her mind.
I will tell you my name when I know you are ready. she replied. You have achieved contact with me, at least. I cannot imagine it to be long before you enter my world.
Isn't it my inner world? Tarena queried, curious.
Up until the point you achieve contact with myself in my world, it will remain mine. I am its guardian and occupant, yet vulnerable to some outside influences.
What is it like? Tarena further questioned.
As her sword answered, an abrupt wind swept her words away, denying the shinigami access to her innermost secrets.
It seems I am still unable to hear anything about you, zanpakuto.
It would appear so. her sword replied quietly.
"Mitsuya!"
She glanced up, suddenly torn from her thoughts, and noticed Hajime had finished his round. Now he stood only a few steps away, sword unsheathed and loosely held in a non-threatening position.
"Hai, Fourth Seat Fukuyama?" she stated blandly, eyes disturbingly blank as she spoke.
"Are we going to spar, or are you going to stand around daydreaming all day?" he grinned, revealing pearl white teeth. A tooth was missing from his bottom right jaw, right behind his canine, and she hoarded the tiny piece of knowledge away in her mind.
"Hn." she nodded, following him back out to the center of the field, feeling extremely vulnerable in doing so.
"Draw." it was an order, and Hajime's face was serious again, barely a hint of emotion crossing behind his sky-like eyes.
Tarena tensed at the sudden movement he made, shifting his weight onto his left heel, knowing he was most likely to launch a blow from that side. Automatically, she angled herself, hand grasping the hilt of her zanpakuto as she did so.
Hajime, on the other hand, was merely sizing her up, wanting to see the reaction his actions would cause. Her first spar with him had been strange to say the least. When he'd drawn first blood, it was as if he'd unlocked some hidden power that had previously been sealed away. Her speed and timing had skyrocketed, matching that of at least a fukutaicho, if not a taicho. Hajime was curious to see if those abilities would resurface during sparring match.
In a flicker of motion to the bystanders, the two were gone, the sharp clang of metal against metal ringing out through the air.
Tarena narrowed her eyes at Hajime, seeing his own brows furrowed in concentration. A creeping unease ran up her spine as he met her gaze, unlocking their blades and swinging at her ribcage, obviously attempting to draw blood.
She blocked, twisting her wrist and then her torso to lash out with her heel. Hajime dropped under the kick, trying to knock out her remaining leg, sheathing his sword for better mobility in the same motion.
Noticing the frown on Hajime's face, Tarena realized a split second too late what he was doing and dropped. However, she managed to sheath her sword and use one arm to flip away from her opponent.
He's skilled. she thought, breathing in small huffs.
Hajime was thinking the same.
Somehow, though the initial blows had only taken a matter of seconds, they had gone from swords to hands.
Tarena sized Hajime up, ready to either draw her sword or block with her fists.
Again, they flew forward, their forms blurred by the sudden use of shunpo.
Tarena managed to clip Hajime on the jaw, one of her nails scraping off a layer of skin, a thin line of blood appearing soon after. He used the momentary loss of defense to his advantage, landing a hit square to her stomach, launching all air out of her lungs in a sudden breathless gasp.
Instantly, Hajime noted the change in her demeanor. An invisible wall in her eyes just deteriorated, and in a split second she had unsheathed her sword and slashed diagonally across his ribcage, a shallow wound appearing. His eyes widened at the sheer speed behind the attack, and he too unsheathed his zanpakuto. He barely had anough time to block the next blow, and a small smile began to stretch across his face. This was the power he'd been wanting to see again.
"Looks like I can let loose today." he grinned, feeling satisfaction when Tarena's eyes widened fractionally in shock. Whatever she'd been expecting as his reaction, this was definitely not it.
"Hado One; Sho!"
And neither was that, Hajime mused as the kido collided with his blade, shoving him forcefully back a couple of steps. A moment later she was upon him, a barely there snarl curling her upper lip.
As he blocked, he got his bearings and kicked her back, sending her crashing into the nearby wall and sending a giant wave of dust outward.
"Well, that was a little disappointing, Mitsuya." Hajime sighed, sheathing his sword and beginning to walk away.
"Ye lord. Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of man. Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south.Hado Thirty-one; Shakkaho."
Hajime barely managed to dodge what could have been a critical hit, the power surging behind the blast instantly blowing his hair back and sending minute ripples across his reiatsu, earning a small shudder at the unpleasant feeling.
Now that he looked closely, Tarena wasn't even close to being brought down. Other than a shallow wound on the right side of her face and a cut on her leg, she appeared to be fine.
And good at Kido, apparently. his zanpakuto chirped from the back of his mind.
Before he could answer, she lunged forward, her emotional mask discarded, eyes blazing with fury and something akin to pain. Hajime couldn't help but get a feel of loss from her reiatsu as it brushed against his own.
By now, they had gathered a small audience, the members of the Eleventh slightly shocked that the new recruit seemed to be gaining ground quickly on the Fourth seat. They cautiously and warily lined the remaining wall, dodging the various shrapnel that flew by occasionally.
Among them was a thin, willowy figure wearing a hooded cloak, a pair of amber eyes watching closely as the two sparred. Although at this point, it could be considered a miniature battle, judging by the chaos that was currently unfolding.
Tarena panted, her sword drawn and locked with Hajime's blade again. Her fingers clenched tightly around the hilt of her sword, and she struggled as the pressure on her arms increased fractionally.
Hajime remained infuriatingly calm, a mocking smile tugging at his lips, the difference in their power now becoming obvious. Although a heavier sheen of sweat was covering his visible skin, he was still as unruffled as he'd been at the start. And it was also obvious that he was using that to fuel the ferocity that Tarena was displaying.
However, he was clearly becoming bored and distracted. With a sigh, he blew a stray piece of hair out of his eyes and readied himself for the final blow.
Tarena was struggling with her emotions as she stood across from Hajime. There was the instinctual fear that told her to run from all of the spectators, painfully reminded of her past, along with the anger at being pushed down like she was worth nothing. Behind it all, her emotionless mask that had made most of her classmates and teachers wary in the Academy was cracking.
By a single sparring match with a man.
It was utterly humiliating, and she refused to bow down now. Not when she was desperate for a sense of belonging and safety. When she secretly held that hope deep within her heart, kept safe by her zapakuto.
And yet..
She was already becoming too attached to this man.
She breathed in deeply, readying her sword, and charged.
Hajime followed her example, lunging.
The two collided in a whirlpool of mixed reiatsu and dust, the following explosion a battle for dominance that neearly sent their captive audience flying.
Then, there was silence.
As the dust cleared, the people held their breath, waiting to see which of the two would be the victor.
Hajime's lithe form became visible as debris moved aside, his sword still unsheathed and his face blank.
A few sighs of disappointment filled the air as the crowd dispersed, some hoping for a new outcome. It was painfully obvious that the Fourth seat wasn't about to lose to a new shinigami, and especially not a woman.
But Hajime, although appearing unharmed, watched warily at Tarena hauled herself to her feet, her entire form cowered as she sheathed her sword.
Something isn't right here... he thought in concern, watching as she coughed lightly, eyes averted from his probing ones.
You're right. his zanpakuto agreed. It's like something in her broke.
But what? he thought back before sheathing his own sword and offering her a tentative hand.
She shied away, still cowering, and ignored him, instead choosing to walk away, her form wary.
Something definitely isn't right here, Hajime.
No, something is not. he agreed, almost grimly. She's hiding something, and I'm going to find out what.
The only question was, how?
A/N: So, a bit of insight to Hajime here...
Hajiime, no matter how controlled or polite, is still a member of the Eleventh Squad, and he is there for a reason. Secretly, he does have a sadistic streak, like most of the members of the Squad, as seen by his reaction to Tarena's sudden outburst in power and emotion. He saw the potential of an actual opponent.
So...yeah. Hopefully I'll be more inspired to write more, soon.