Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the name Kurosaki Masaki, both belong to Tite Kubo. I own my OC under the name of Mai.
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Deep below the remains of the once massive and imposing fortress known as Las Noches, flames flickered in their torches, scarcely providing illumination to the dark gloom suffusing the hidden underground chambers. The shadows swirled and shifted as a figure emerged and stepped within the glow of the flames. The flames themselves seemed to shudder slightly for a moment as they cast orange light upon silvery white hair and unreadable slitted eyes. The white clothed man barely made a step forward when a voice ahead of him asked, "What is it, Gin?"
"Looks like the Gotei 13 finally left Fake Karakura, Aizen-taichō," Gin explained, his lips twitching into his usual impish but playful grin.
"Is that so?"
"Yep. Looks like they probably got concerned with the increasin' Hollow activity in the Soul Society though I think by now they musta noticed the lil' bug sweepin' through Rukongai, don't cha think?"
There was a moment's silence.
"I doubt they understood the significance of it on their own."
"Ya thinkin' a lil' birdie told 'em?"
"I'm certain of it, but it doesn't matter." There was a slight creaking noise, followed by a scraping sound. Aizen's face appeared ignited by a white glow emanating from the palm of his hand. A small purplish blue orb rested there, pulsing and turning bright white every couple of seconds.
"It's only a matter of days before the Hōgyoku fully awakens and the Soul Society as they know it ceases to exist," Aizen said, his lips twisting into a smirk. The Hōgyoku continued to pulse.
With brows furrowed in deep concentration and beads of sweat glistening in the orange glow emitted from the shield before her, Orihime sat in a chair next to a bed containing a man drenched in sweat. He blinked as the Shun Shun Rikka's brightness stunned the eyes he had previously kept closed. And suddenly the glare was gone leaving the room with the natural dim lighting of the room.
Orihime panted into the protective mask she wore. She unconsciously licked her chapped lips. Maintaining her focus had led to bite her lips. She had healed so many people already on the verge of death, particles away from ceasing to exist….They had been in so much pain, sweating profusely and groaning and coughing…
As she looked across the room, she saw rows of beds with nurses at their sides. Both parties wore protective masks. There were still so many people that required healing, here in this room and in other rooms scattered across the building.
"Are you all right?" Orihime asked, once she regained her breath. Her voice cracked slightly. She needed water.
"H-Hai, I-I think so," the man mumbled, apparently still stunned to believe he was no longer in pain. "Arigatō."
"Good," Orihime murmured, wiping her brow. She leaned back for a moment in the chair, before she started to rise.
"Inoue-san, I think that is enough for now," said a gentle feminine voice.
Orihime turned to see Unohana-taichō along with a nurse by her side. Both wore protective masks over their faces.
"U-Unohana-san, I can't stop now. There's still more people that—"
"There is, but you must take care of yourself too. You've done a wonderful job of restoring the health of many of our seriously ill patients since you've arrived this afternoon, but now it is time that you replenish your own energy."
Orihime opened her mouth to object but then fell silent as Unohana said firmly but politely, "Inoue-san, please come with me. You can return once you have rested."
"H-Hai, Unohana-san," the wielder of the Shun Shun Rikka nodded, getting to her feet obediently.
"Sato-san, please take care of Hideki-san," Unohana addressed the nurse, and the woman went to the man Orihime had just healed. She immediately grabbed his chart and went around his bed.
Orihime followed the Fourth Division taichō into the hallway. They watched as nurses further down the hallway slipped into a room carrying supplies.
"I know you want to help as many people as you can, Inoue-san, but maintaining our strength is essential. We cannot forget that amidst the adversity we are currently facing. You've been working nonstop since you've arrived. It's a quarter past 11 now."
"It is?" Orihime said, surprised.
Unohana nodded. "A bowl of the Fourth Division's nutritionally fortified soup should help you replenish your Reiryoku."
"Arigatō, that sounds good," Orihime smiled, realizing she was feeling hungry. She had definitely exhausted a lot of her Reiryoku.
There was a brief silence.
"Have you found a cure, Unohana-san?" Orihime asked.
"I'm afraid neither Kurotsuchi-taichō and his team nor myself have managed to find a cure yet. This virus is proving to be resistant to our efforts. We are dealing with a virus consisting of two different virus strains. The first and predominant strain is that of the influenza virus which causes the onset of typical flu symptoms such as fatigue, coughing, and fevers. This strain or the symptoms generated by it are not a problem. The problem lies in the other hidden strain that disrupts the cohesion of the soul. As soon as this strain activates, it alters the original virus. Though the virus appears to induce fatigue and weaken the infected person, it does not actually cause harm or weaken the Reiryoku the person possesses as it breaks down the body. It keeps it intact.
"This strain is specially attuned to the level of Reiryoku a person possesses, so the more Reiryoku a person has the faster the virus replicates and starts working to decompose the body. This makes it difficult to find a remedy for this virus. Thankfully, since you have been able to restore the health of many of our critical patients we are allowed more time to study the virus. I have already sent to Kurotsuchi-taichō data on the patients you have healed to see if the data benefits him in some way. The healed patients do not actually contain any remnants of the virus within them since your powers return to them to their original healthy state prior to having the virus. "
"I never imagined I'd be helping people get rid of a virus," Orihime said quietly. "I'd never thought to use my powers like that…I can't believe Aizen-san has done this…. It's such an awful way to hurt everyone."
"It is, but unfortunately, it is the most efficient way to for Aizen to achieve his goals. He no longer appears to have the patience to wait any longer to fulfill his aspirations."
Orihime said nothing as she contemplated the words with a frown.
"But do not fear, Inoue-san, we will find a cure and we will stop Aizen Sōsuke."
"Right," Orihime said.
Why in the world did he decide to stay in the Eleventh Division? Ichigo thought for the hundredth time this morning as he barreled through a group of Shinigami. The jostled men immediately let loose a string of insults and threats, but the orange haired Shinigami paid them no heed. He continued running at full speed towards the gates that marked the exit he had been anxiously racing to ever since Kenpachi Zaraki had gotten the urge to spar with him.
He hadn't forgotten the memories of his first visit to the Soul Society, but he had thought perhaps the Eleventh Division taichō would have other matters to attend to when he had accepted the offer, well more like fought Ikkaku for a place to stay. No such luck. Or rather, his luck had run out.
He had been foolish to think that just because he managed to avoid running into him last night and that the Soul Society was currently facing both internal and external threats that the battle-loving demon would rest. Really foolish. As soon as Kenpachi had spotted him, he had unsheathed his sword and had announced with a feral grin that he wanted a fight.
He really should have known that man was not a normal taichō who tended to other duties besides sparring, that the current state of things would probably make him want to vent out his frustrations, and the he would be selected for the job. It wasn't as though Kenpachi could help heal people or had any interest in dealing with weakling Hollows even if he was allowed to venture outside the Seireitei. He really should have considered this information but he didn't.
Even as he questioned his decision yet again—he could hear Kenpachi's shouts growing louder which indicated he wasn't too far behind now—he knew that he had had no other choice last night but to stay at the Eleventh. He could not stay at the Fourth Division like he did the last time he came to the Soul Society because that place was off-limits. The Sixth Division was not an option despite Renji's offer and neither was asking Rukia for a place at the Kuchiki Manor. Ichigo had no desire to cross paths with the aloof noble. He could only imagine what the noble would want to say to him now that he knew about the apparent future he and Rukia shared. Fighting with Kenpachi sounded far more pleasurable, hence his decision to stay at the Eleventh along with Ishida and Sado.
All he could do now was run away from the mad man that was on his trail; just because he would rather endure a fight with him than face Byakuya did not mean he actually wanted to fight him. As soon as he cleared the gates, he made a sharp right and sprinted away as fast as he could. Ignoring any ache or stitch that erupted in his body as he blew through the Seireitei like a powerful whirlwind, Ichigo half ran and half Shunpoed all over the place, hoping his zigzagging movements would help him lose Kenpachi. Knowing his pursuer could be relentless, Ichigo carried on like this for some time, losing track of how far and how long he had been fleeing from Kenpachi.
Though his speed had actually slowed by now, Ichigo continued running, despite protests from his aching limbs. He feared he wasn't as safe as he hoped he was.
Ichigo felt his heart abruptly skip a beat. His ears had caught the sound of a jingling noise. Did he really just hear the soft tinkling of bells that proclaimed death and bloodlust whenever they jingled? His heart suddenly began to pound against his chest. He didn't sense Kenpachi behind him, but he could hear the bells. In the split second that he shifted his head to look, he felt himself colliding against something, no someone— he heard a yell and then he found himself flying.
With a loud thud, his face slammed onto the hard ground. Disorientated, Ichigo took a few moments to get his bearings. The smell of dirt and stone filled his nostrils. He strained his ears, failing to hear the jingling of bells that had caused him to panic. Instead, he heard a familiar voice that sounded disorientated speaking with someone. Ichigo shook his head and scrambled to a sitting position. To his relief Kenpachi was nowhere in sight. His heart, however, now began to flutter for a different reason as he realized whom he had bumped into.
Across from him, Rukia accepted a hand and was pulled to her feet by Masaki. Rukia thanked her and whirled around, directing her furious violet gaze at him.
"What the hell were you thinking, Ichigo, running around like a mad man? You could have killed us!"
"G-Gomen," Ichigo began.
Rukia cut him off. "Is that all you have to say? Gomen? You nearly ran us flat to the ground. What's the big emergency?"
Ichigo sheepishly raised a hand to the back of his head and said, "Uh, well, there isn't a big emergency—"
"Then, what? Were you out for your morning jog?" The sarcasm in the petite Shinigami's voice rang clearly, as she arched a brow at him.
"N-No," Ichigo replied. "I was running from Kenpachi. He wanted to fight me."
"You were running from Zaraki-taichō? I don't see him anywhere." Rukia looked around and so did Ichigo and Masaki.
"He was chasing me," Ichigo insisted. "I guess I must have lost him."
As he raised himself to his feet, Ichigo wondered whether he had truly heard the clinking of bells. He must have imagined it. Or was Kenpachi playing some hide and seek game to make the chase more exciting before the actual fight? Ichigo peered around the area again, trying to discern if the Eleventh Division taichō was lurking somewhere but he didn't see or sense him.
And then he heard the distinct chime of bells again. Ichigo tensed.
"What is it, Ichigo?" Rukia asked, her anger dissipating.
The tinkling lasted longer this time, and Ichigo felt the palpitations of his heart increase in time with each chime. Rukia and Masaki appeared oblivious to the significance of the ominous tinkling.
"He's here," Ichigo stated tersely.
"What are you talking about, Ichigo?" Rukia asked, bemused.
"There's no one here, Kurosaki-san," Masaki said.
"He has to be here around here somewhere," Ichigo said, ignoring their remarks as his eyes scanned the area, his right arm preparing to unsheathe Zangetsu. He was sure they weren't hearing the ringing bells since they weren't releasing Reiatsu. Kenpachi's bells were attuned for that purpose. Sensing that the noise was coming from the right, he turned his head and then felt a wave of stupidity along with relief wash over him.
High above the Thirteenth Division gates hung a wind chime shaped in the form of said division's insignia. The chimes released tinkling notes every time the breeze blew through the area. No wonder he hadn't heard them continuously. When he came through the area, he must have activated it.
"Never mind," Ichigo muttered. He turned to Rukia and Masaki, who were staring at him curiously. "Gomen nasai. I thought Kenpachi was around. I thought I heard the bells he wears in his hair, but I was wrong." There was a pause before he added, "I'm really sorry about knocking you down, I didn't mean to."
"Next time that you're running for your life, make sure you don't try taking others with you," Rukia remarked.
"All right," Ichigo said.
A silence ensued. The wind chimes clinked as a gentle wind swept over the area. Ichigo glanced at the musical contraption, uncertainty rippling through him. Now that the danger seemed to have passed, he wasn't quite sure what to say and apparently neither did Rukia. As he lowered his gaze, he caught sight of her glancing at the floor.
Though their talk yesterday morning had helped lessen the awkwardness between them and helped improve their interaction with their friends to a semblance of normal, things were undeniably strange between them. Not that Ichigo expected things to truly improve, but the summons to the Gotei 13 meeting and their subsequent departure to the Soul Society hadn't allowed them to be around each other, and now that they were in the Soul Society, Ichigo hadn't really expected to run into Rukia, literally or otherwise, unless necessary. He figured she might be busy. It was definitely a surprise to see her so soon and with Masaki no less.
The clinking stopped.
Taking the even more blatant silence as a cue to speak, Ichigo forced himself to meet the women's gaze and ask the only thing he could think of. "What are you guys doing here?"
As soon as he met their gaze, he was struck by the violet eyes they obviously shared. It was uncanny to have nearly identical pairs of violet eyes—Masaki's eyes were a shade lighter—stare right back at him. A part of him felt like avoiding their gaze while another part of him was captivated by the sight. This was the first time he had ever really laid eyes on both women side by side with full knowledge of the orange haired Shinigami's identity.
He'd never imagined violet eyes could be a possibility until he met Rukia. He had attributed her distinctive eyes to her Shinigami heritage, but after failing to meet any other Shinigami with such deep violet hued eyes he concluded they were unique to her alone. At least, he had thought that up until he had met Masaki. She had appeared to break his conclusion, but now he knew, she hadn't broken it, she had merely inherited them from Rukia herself.
"We're headed to the Thirteenth Division to check if there's been developments," Rukia said, moving her gaze away from him and glancing in the direction of the gates.
"Have you heard anything, Kurosaki-san?" Masaki asked.
"No. I didn't really get a chance to hear any news," Ichigo replied.
There was a pause.
"Well, you could come with us if you'd like," Rukia suggested, the slightest note of hesitancy underlying her words.
Ichigo looked momentarily surprised. "Uh, sure."
"Let's go then." Rukia glanced at Masaki then turned and strode towards the large wooden doors of the Thirteenth Division looming several feet before them. She raised a hand and pounded the doors loudly. There was a loud rumbling as the doors creaked opened. Rukia entered side-by-side Masaki and Ichigo once the gates were sufficiently open to allow them passage.
The soft jingling of the wind chime filled the air once more accompanied now by the scraping noise of a broom being brushed roughly against the stone floor. A male Shinigami was earnestly sweeping the floor across the courtyard. He paused to wipe the sweat from his brow and almost lost his grip of his broom when he noticed the new arrivals. His eyes went slightly wide, but as soon as serious amber eyes found his, he immediately averted his gaze and resumed his work.
"How are you, Kurosaki-san?" Masaki asked, once they had walked past the sweeping Shinigami and were halfway down the courtyard.
Ichigo glanced at her. "Uh, I'm fine, thanks. What about you?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Good. This virus situation is pretty serious," Ichigo said, recalling the Fourth Division and the Sōgō Kyūgo Tsumesho enclosed in a barrier.
He understood the virus was dangerous but he hadn't imagined that the Shinigami would erect a barrier around their healing station. He had thought that they would just quarantine the infected there. The extra invisible protective barrier definitely drove the point home that this virus needed to be contained.
"I know. It's a good thing the Fourth Division has acted swiftly by rounding up the sick."
"Yeah. I hope they found a cure already though. I'm sure Inoue has helped heal people but we can't expect her to heal everyone here in the Seireitei and all those in Rukongai."
"No one expects her to do that, Ichigo," Rukia said, prompting the male to look past Masaki to glance at her. "I doubt the Fourth Division and Twelfth Division have rested since the discovery of the virus. If they haven't found a cure yet, they've probably at least devised better healing methods as they get closer to finding one."
A silence befell them again as they continued towards their destination. Shinigami walking along the path or appearing in windows shot curious, surprised looks at them. Ichigo's scowl couldn't help but deepen though he said nothing. Didn't those idiots have anything to do but gawk at them? He supposed he could understand why they would stare, but surely, they weren't all that interesting?
So what if he and Rukia happened to be walking along with someone who had his bright orange hair and her violet eyes? Even though those colors were highly unusual, it wasn't as though someone else couldn't have them naturally or by other means. They had believed Masaki's lies that she had dyed it after all.
And regardless of the unique combination orange hair and violet eyes made, it wasn't as though her features went far beyond the scope of being normal as far as Shinigami went. Okay, he, himself, might have thought it was the oddest combination he'd ever seen upon first meeting her, but nonetheless, those features were right up the alley of what appeared to be typical for Shinigami. The only Shinigami he would deem atypical would be Komamura-san and Kurotsuchi Mayuri. If her appearance were remotely something like that, he would be more accepting of the stares they were generating.
What if her appearance wasn't considered normal? The thought suddenly flitted across his mind as he recalled her saying she wanted to change her hair color when she was young. How could her appearance not be normal? He supposed the only reason she must have felt that way was because kids, regardless of dimensions, could be cruel with their remarks. It must have been average looking kids that said things about her looks. But wait, she had also said she didn't like people staring at her. Why would adults stare at her?
"He offered to get me hair dye if that's what I really wanted, but it wouldn't really change anything, it wouldn't really hide who I was, I had to learn to ignore people which is what I ended up doing."
Wait a minute. If it had been a case of merely trying to stop stares and taunts then hair dye would have done the trick, but she had said her father had said hair dye wouldn't help change things or hide who she was. What exactly was the reason she generated stares from kids and adults alike? What she said seemed to imply that it was perhaps beyond superficial reasons now that he thought about it.
"Ichigo, what's the status of the Eleventh Division?" Rukia asked, snapping him out of his musings.
"Um, I forgot how many people Ikkaku said were at the Fourth Division and how many were fighting in Rukongai. It's not the whole division or anything. There's still plenty of men at the barracks."
His mind had been too preoccupied with thoughts of his dad and everything he had learned to really catch the details of what Ikkaku had told him last night. Not that listening to details was his thing.
"I see," Rukia said.
"What about the Thirteenth?"
"Well, twenty-five people had the virus, but I'm not sure how many people were sent to Rukongai," Rukia responded. "Do you know, Masaki?"
"I'm not sure either," Masaki said. "Regardless of the number, Ukitake-taichō was concerned about the safety of all his subordinates. He didn't like that they wouldn't be allowed to return until a cure for the virus was found."
At Ichigo's questioning look, Masaki explained, "I was staying at the Thirteenth Division."
"You were?" Ichigo asked. "Are you staying somewhere else now?"
"I invited her to stay with me," Rukia said.
Amber eyes shone with surprise. Before he could say anything, Rukia looked away from him and said, "This is Ukitake-taichō's office."
Rukia led the way into the building. They found Sentarō standing over Kiyone, who was sitting at her desk. Both were too preoccupied discussing the papers on the desk that at first they didn't realize that they had company.
"Western District 44 was covered by Nakamura, Adachi, Hamada, Ashia," Kiyone said, continuing to read other names listed on the paper she was holding.
"Our last transmission was over 24 hours," Sentarō said, his eyebrows knitting.
"Western District 45 was covered by Itachi's group. We haven't heard from either."
Ichigo, Rukia, and Masaki exchanged looks.
"Er, Third Seat Kotetsu, Third Seat Kotsubaki, sorry to disturb you, but we're wondering if we could see Ukitake-taichō," Rukia said, inclining her head in a respectful bow.
"K-Kuchiki-san." Kiyone glanced up, startled. "O-Ohayō…Masaki-san, Kurosaki Ichigo-san," she said, glancing at the orange haired Shinigami with poorly concealed interest.
"Ohayō, Kuchiki, Masaki-san, Kurosaki Ichigo," Sentarō greeted. His eyes flitted from each person as he greeted them, and then returned to Masaki for a moment. "I'm afraid Ukitake-taichō is not in today."
"Ukitake-taichō has been working nonstop since he came. His illness has caught up with him. He needed to rest," Kiyone explained.
"Is that all it is?" Ichigo asked, his brow knitting.
Rukia tensed. Kiyone and Sentarō froze, glancing at Ichigo with the slightest hint of apprehension.
"Yes, that's all it is," Kiyone said at once.
"Of course, that's all it is. We asked him about his symptoms."
"He didn't display any flu like symptoms similar to those of that virus, just his normal symptoms."
"We went to see him in person you know to make sure he hadn't caught that virus."
"It was my idea," Sentarō said. "I had to make sure the taichō was alright."
"No, it wasn't. It was mine."
"All right, just checking," Ichigo said, holding up a hand as though to calm them down.
"Third Seat Kotetsu, would you mind telling us what the status of the infected is? Has a cure been found?" Rukia asked.
"Well, according to the last report we received Inoue Orihime successfully healed many of the critical cases including some of our own division members. They're remaining at the Fourth for observation though. Unfortunately, neither the Twelfth nor the Fourth Division have found a cure yet."
"They haven't?" Rukia said.
"No, this virus is proving to be tricky," Sentarō said grimly. "The speed at which the virus decomposes the body is related to the amount of Reiryoku the infected possess. They are having a difficult time finding a way to stop or reverse the destabilization of the soul due to this factor."
"I think they're hoping maybe they'll learn something from the people Inoue Orihime has healed," Kiyone said. "Maybe they'll come up with something soon."
"Things are getting worse with the Hollows, aren't they?" Ichigo said. "Gomen, we heard when we came in."
Kiyone and Sentarō both drew their brows together.
"Unfortunately, we've lost contact with several of the troops that were already in Rukongai or that we've sent out within the last two days," Kiyone said.
"Hollow activity has not decreased in the area which means…"—Sentarō's grave voice wavered slightly—"we've lost our troops."
"Hey, it could be they're still out there," Ichigo said, trying to sound positive though his stomach felt uneasy.
He knew even if they did survive they would still have to contend with avoiding being contaminated by the deadly virus.
"Even if they are, we still have to send out more troops. The Hollow activity is very high," Kiyone said.
"We've already dispatched more troops to Rukongai but now we're going to send more as soon as we finish going over these reports." Sentarō gestured to the papers laid out across the desk.
Ichigo glanced at Rukia, who was wearing a pensive expression on her face. Masaki was also looking at her.
"Third Seat Kotetsu, Third Seat Kotsubaki, do you know if I will be assigned a district in Rukongai today?"
Ichigo tensed, clenching his hands slightly. Concern flickered across Masaki's gaze.
Kiyone looked startled. "Oh no, Kuchiki-san, Ukitake-taichō has said that you won't be sent unless absolutely necessary."
"Kuchiki, Ukitake-taichō said to carry on in your training in preparation for when you are called to duty."
"I see, arigatō for everything, Third Seat Kotetsu, Third Seat Kotsubaki," Rukia said, bowing. Straightening, she glanced at Masaki and Ichigo and then headed towards the exit. Ichigo and Masaki uttered their own thanks to the Thirteenth Division third seats and followed the raven-haired Shinigami out.
Upon exiting the building, they stood in silence. For several moments, they just stood there gazing into the distance, lost in their own thoughts.
"Well, I guess that leaves me free for training after all, Masaki," Rukia said quietly, letting go of her Zanpakutō's pommel that she had been absently touching and smiling slightly in an attempt to lift the somber mood encircling them.
Earlier over breakfast, Rukia had asked Masaki to accompany her to the Thirteenth Division and to train with her if Ukitake-taichō did not delegate any tasks to her. The young woman had been somewhat reluctant at first, citing that she didn't want to interrupt her schedule, though Rukia had been quite certain she had seen an interested gleam in her eyes for a moment. Rukia assured she wouldn't be, that she had always planned on training, because she couldn't stand doing absolutely nothing knowing battles were occurring outside the Seireitei and the Fourth Division. She wanted to sharpen her skills as much as she could before heading to the battlefield herself. Masaki had finally agreed, admitting she wasn't used to being idle.
"Hai, Kuchiki-san," Masaki agreed.
"Actually, Masaki, our training can wait," Rukia said after several moments.
Masaki stared at her. "Then, what do you want to do, Kuchiki-san?"
Rukia slid her gaze away from Masaki to land on Ichigo. He blinked but maintained eye contact. Violet locked onto amber. Wordlessly, amber acquiesced to the imploring look in violet as understanding blossomed between them.
"It's not about what I want, it's about what you want, Masaki."
Masaki regarded her with a quizzical look.
"Masaki, you want to spar against Ichigo, right? He promised you he would, correct?"
"Hai, but we don't have to do it now. I could wait—"
"I think this is a good a time as any for him to keep his word," Rukia said, cutting Masaki off. Meeting Ichigo's eye, she added, "Right, Ichigo?"
Ichigo nodded. "I promised you, M-Mai…that I would fight you. We can do that now. We don't have to wait until later."
"But Kurosaki-san, are you sure?"
"Yeah," he said firmly, staring right at her.
"Don't try to give him a chance to weasel out, Masaki. He owes you after everything he said. Let me just ask permission to use the training grounds behind the Grand Shrine."
With that, Rukia ducked back into the building.
As Ichigo pulled Zangetsu free from his bindings, he watched as Masaki slipped her left thumb underneath her Zanpakutō's rectangular guard, pushed it forward, and with her right hand grasped the hilt and pulled. A sound like pouring salt echoed across the barren valley as Masaki liberated her Zanpakutō. Above them in the cliff overlooking the valley, Rukia sat cross-legged with her Zanpakutō beside her, peering down at them.
For several moments, Ichigo stood unmoving across from Masaki with both hands grasping Zangetsu's hilt. Here he was about to fulfill his word and yet he couldn't help the nerves bubbling underneath his exterior. He couldn't explain exactly why he felt this way—his resolve to fulfill his promise had been renewed and solidified just hours before during the Gotei 13 meeting and even before that when Rukia had demanded he find a way to make up for his actions. He should feel relieved that he was now being granted an opportunity sooner than expected to act on his word. Yet, there was no denying he was feeling oddly nervous.
Was it because he was afraid their Zanpakutō would Resonate? Unbidden images arose to the forefront of his mind—an older version of himself sparring against a younger Masaki…an older Rukia scolding them for staying out late…He recalled these images all too clearly. They were far more vivid that any dream he had ever had…they were memories…Memories of a life he had yet to live…
The notion was quite unnerving but it was the undeniable truth. Zangetsu and his Hollow had attested to that, and Masaki, who had already lived through those moments, was right before him… Although the thought of witnessing more memories was uncomforting, he suspected his unease was not because of that. He had already made up his mind he would spar with her regardless of the chance of that occurring though he doubted it would.
Frankly, he was amazed that this was the way Masaki had selected for him to make up for his words. She had not hesitated in attacking him to make him accept her and she had not hesitated in her request…Was she really that curious in figuring out how he fought compared to his future self? He recalled sensing curiosity from her blade…
He was snapped out of his thoughts when Masaki attacked first; apparently, he had been thinking too much. He raised Zangetsu to the side and blocked her stroke. Metal clanged. She pulled her blade back and met his katana once again.
Ichigo's ears rang with the sounds of their clashing blades as he swung Zangetsu forward and parried Masaki's Zanpakutō to the side. She spun, slashing sideways. Ichigo swiftly twisted his blade downward, intercepting her attack.
As they continued to fight, Ichigo couldn't help but clearly note the familiarity of how she wielded her blade against his now that his mind was free from anger and shock. There was no doubting she knew how to accommodate her blade against the reach of his cleaver shaped blade. She maintained a distance that allowed her to move easily against and around his blade.
It was strange and unsettling to know that before him was someone that knew how to fight against him and yet he did not know her because she was from the future…And not only that, she happened to his daughter.
Suddenly Ichigo found himself having to move react quicker than before as Masaki's strokes grew faster. Up until now, she hadn't been attacking him head on. She had been allowing the fight to naturally flow.
Before he knew it, he fell for her feint and found his blade trembling underneath hers as she brought her katana down hard.
"You're too tense, Kurosaki-san," she said, peering at him. "Relax."
He stared at her, surprised. Was it that obvious?
She stepped away from him, holding her katana out to the side.
"The way you're fighting now makes me almost prefer the way you fought when you were angry…You wanted to fight then. Even your defensive movements were much less stiff when our Zanpakutō Resonated." Violet eyes stared at him. "Is that why you're so reluctant to fight? Are you afraid you'll see more of what my blade has seen?"
There was a pause before Masaki said, "Don't worry, Kurosaki-san, that won't happen. The only reason I asked Hyōketsu Kiri to show you past battles is because I wanted to make it perfectly clear to you that I was telling the truth. To be honest, I wasn't even sure it would work—it's ancient Zanpakutō lore that when Zanpakutō clash they can reveal their past. I only realized it worked when you appeared to be losing focus in the fight.
"I asked you for a fight where you're focused. I wouldn't resort to distracting you myself with Resonance again. I wouldn't appreciate being on the receiving end of that either. The only revelations I prefer are those made within the course of battle."
She shifted her Zanpakutō. The blade gleamed in the sunlight.
"Are you ready to try again, Kurosaki-san?"
She probably knows me, er, the future me enough to know the difference between how I normally fight and when I'm tense…
Though her tone carried no hint of anger, Ichigo wondered if the stiffness of his fighting had offended her or made her uncomfortable. She had given him several chances to renounce his promise to her, and here he was fighting with her in a way that clearly demonstrated he was not comfortable with the idea.
He hadn't meant to tense up so much. He had done it unconsciously. He needed to loosen up and deliver on his promise. He was failing.
"Yeah," he replied to her with a firm nod. He inhaled and adjusted his grip on Zangetsu and his stance in an effort to relax his muscles.
He sprang forward and swung Zangetsu. She parried the blow and retaliated with one of her own. He deflected it.
"That's better," she said, after several moments passed.
She crossed blades with him once more, then added, "But, Kurosaki-san, put some more effort in it." She placed pressure against his blade, and he returned it. The sound of metal scraping against each other resounded across the valley.
"This barely qualifies as a warmup," Masaki said, putting more pressure on his blade and sending him back several paces.
Dust flew.
With her knees bent, Masaki held her Zanpakutō to the side, ready to charge again. Ichigo caught her attack and batted her blade aside. Masaki swiftly changed the blade's course and it arced back towards him. He parried it. Their blades met again and again. The orange-haired young woman was now moving with more speed and force, putting Ichigo on the defensive.
Damn, she's really serious… Ichigo thought as he felt rather than saw her blade cut through the air where his head had previously been. He had moved his head to the side at the last second.
When she had tried to let him off the hook for fighting against her in Fake Karakura, she had made it seem as though their sparring wouldn't compare to actual training. While it technically wasn't that strenuous, it was a workout in itself. He supposed it was just part of her attempt to allow him to take his words back.
Panting, Ichigo flicked his wrist and parried an incoming stroke.
"What's a matter, Kurosaki-san? Don't tell me you're going to let me win." Orange eyebrows knitted over irritated violet irises.
Crap. He needed to put more effort. Now he knew for sure, she wasn't happy.
"Whoever said I was," Ichigo said, as he launched a counterattack. "I was just warming up."
Violet eyes flashed with approval as she nimbly shifted her blade to side-to-side to parry his attacks. His cleaver blade came over hers with a loud ringing of steel. With one hand, Masaki held the hilt and with the other she held the tip of her blade to hold him off. She grimaced slightly as Ichigo applied more pressure, but nonetheless she continued to struggle, pressing one foot forward. Metal shrieked as both orange haired Shinigami parted.
Ichigo's feet barely skimmed the surface of the ground before he bounded forward. Masaki raised her Zanpakutō to the side and clashed against Zangetsu. Flickers of amusement flitted through violet eyes as they continued fighting. Ichigo could tell she was now enjoying the fight.
He could now feel perspiration on his brow. Masaki was breathing harder from the exertion.
He sidestepped Masaki and leaped back several feet. She whirled around and leaped into the air, driving her blade against his. Ichigo grimaced as his feet slid from the force. He placed more pressure against her blade, but she returned it in with equal force, leaving them deadlocked. Metal grinded against metal.
Ichigo could feel more sweat breaking out across his forehead as Masaki drove her blade even harder against his. He braced himself and continued to strain. Slowly but surely, he felt his feet slide even more backwards.
And then he felt his knees give way for a brief second as he stumbled over a strewn rock. Zangetsu wavered underneath her blade. He saw violet eyes glitter with victory. Ichigo was sure she was going to try to disarm him now, but before she could even swing her blade to attempt it, a large dark shadow loomed above them.
Ichigo fell backwards as he saw the air grow heavy with dust. Underneath his back, he felt the vibrations of the shaking ground. He blinked and coughed. Within the swirling dust, he could see the outline of a large, towering figure with spikes protruding from its head.
"I finally found you, Ichigo," proclaimed the figure as the dust finally settled.
"K-Kenpachi," Ichigo stammered.
"Yay, Ken-chan finally found Ichi!" A pink head popped over Kenpachi's shoulder.
Ichigo just stared at Yachiru. He hadn't even realized she had been riding on his back. He had turned tail before she could even make her appearance.
"Ooh, Ken-chan, looks like Ichi was playing with Mini Ichi," Yachiru said, turning her head away from Ichigo.
"What?" Kenpachi turned from Ichigo to Masaki, who was staring up at the man with her katana at her side. "Oh yeah, looks like they were."
"Ohayō, Mini Ichi," Yachiru grinned.
"Ohayō, Yachiru-chan. Ohayō, Zaraki-taichō."
Kenpachi regarded her with interest. "How about you and I fight? I wanna see how you compare to Ichigo."
"W-What?" Ichigo exclaimed.
"Ken-chan wants to play with Mini Ichi! How fun! I wanna see Mini Ichi play too!"
"It'd be an honor, Sir," Masaki said, bowing.
Ichigo couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was she insane? Did she really like sparring that much? Sparring with Kenpachi meant blood and death. He didn't know how to restrain himself. He would kill her. He needed to say something to prevent her from dying.
"But I'm afraid, I'm still sparring with Kurosaki-san, and afterwards I've already told Kuchiki-san that I would be training with her."
Ichigo felt his heart calm down a bit. She wasn't insane. He hoped Kenpachi would back off now.
"Che, what are you talking about? The battle with your old man is over," Kenpachi said, sparing a glance at the fallen Ichigo, who was grabbing his Zanpakutō. The orange haired teen blushed. "But fine, if you don't want to fight, then that means I'll have to fight Ichigo after all."
Kenpachi turned, eyes shining with anticipation as he swung his Zanpakutō. Ichigo rolled out of the away and scrambled to his feet. He immediately began to run.
"Where the hell are you going, Ichigo?" Kenpachi yelled. "Come back!"
"Let's play later, Mini Ichi,'kay?" Yachiru asked, before turning around as Kenpachi lurched forward and began to chase after Ichigo.
"We'll see, Yachiru-chan," Masaki yelled in reply.
She watched as Ichigo Shunpoed to the top of the hill and Kenpachi rushed to jump up.
"Damn it, it's not fair, I can't even claim a victory in the past…I had you…" Masaki muttered.
Clangs of metal thunder and reverberate across the stone training courtyard and into the nighttime sky. The moon partially obscured behind a veil of white clouds seems to shift slightly towards the white mass as though hoping to cover itself from the intense battle flourishing beneath her.
Metal gleams. Elegant onyx against slick silver. The blades roar and groan, neither willing to give way. They separate only for an instant, meeting again with a thunderous metallic wail.
Orange hair whips in the air though there is no wind. Amethyst eyes clash fiercely against amber ones. Determination burns in both pairs of eyes. Sweat trickles down both combatants' brows, approaching both amethyst and amber orbs. Neither combatant blinks, determined to maintain eye contact just as much as maintaining their swords scraping against each other. Masaki merely contracts her eyebrows further. Ichigo imitates her. Her bangs swish and sway as she continues pressing her blade against Ichigo's. His long bangs shake as well.
"Last round, okay?" Ichigo says, his voice serious, pushing against her blade.
"All right," she says, equally serious, putting more force behind her blade
"Better make it count," Ichigo says, a smirk appearing on his face.
"I will," she promises, smirking. Stepping forward with a surge of strength, she sends Ichigo reeling back.
Her blade is upon his before he fully recovers from sliding backwards. He catches it off to the side at a low angle. She quickly rebuffs his counterattack.
Their blades clash and clash, twisting and slicing through the air. The sounds of metal whistling through the air are the only cries voicing the sky's pain. Ichigo deflects Masaki's attack with a hard swing. She rolls with the force. Legs coiled to spring again, she pants for a moment and adjusts the grip of her Zanpakutō's hilt in her right hand. With her left hand, she hastily wipes the sweat from her brow. The fukutaichō armband attached to her shoulder shiftds as she does so.
Ichigo charges forward, his slim daitō blade arcing toward her. Masaki disappears.
Ichigo is still twisting in midair from the momentum of his strike when he finds himself holding off Masaki's blade again. Their blades tremble violently.
"Not bad," Ichigo says. "It's still not good enough though."
As their blades vibrate inches from the ground, Ichigo slips his sword from underneath Masaki's and places it over hers. Masaki grits her teeth as Ichigo exerts more pressure over her katana. A low, screeching whine emits from their blades as Masaki refuses to succumb. The black katana flies back and Masaki charges forward. The orange-haired male disappears. She whirls around and parries an incoming stroke from behind.
Amethyst meet with amber again, and then as if by an unspoken agreement they part only to move even faster than before.
Black and orange blurs erupt across the landscape. The ringing of metal lost amidst the intensity of the speed.
"You're getting faster," Ichigo acknowledges, as Masaki dances swiftly all around him, forcing him to deftly fend off attacks from all angles.
"But it's still not fast enough, Shortie." Ichigo grins.
Masaki narrows her eyes. With a burst of speed, Ichigo launches a series of attacks. Masaki grimaces as Ichigo pushes her back and her feet slide back. Suddenly he is behind her and she barely catches the incoming blow. With a determined icy glare, she vanishes.
Ichigo deflects a stroke. And another.
"Still not fast enough," he says as he turns and blocks another sudden attack behind him. The frayed edges of his Shihakushō whip in the air, the white diamonds and circles adorning it rippling.
"Are you sure about that?" says a voice next to his left ear.
Amber eyes slide to the side. Amethyst eyes gleam with triumph. Masaki's blade is pressed against the side of his throat.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ichigo sees the image of Masaki pressing her blade against his fade.
"Been working on that for a while, haven't you? It's too bad, two can play that game." He grins.
The orange-haired young woman watches in disappointment as Ichigo disappears before her.
"Damn it," she mutters, annoyed, feeling the weight of a katana press down on her shoulder.
"Better luck next time, Shortie," Ichigo says. He pulls his Zanpakutō away from her shoulder, and she turns around to meet his grinning face.
Masaki says nothing as she sheathes her Zanpakutō. Frustrated violet eyes glare at him.
"Oh, c'mon, you were really close. If you keep this up, you might even beat me next week. Maybe. You just gotta work on your speed a bit more—"
"I could have sworn I had you this time," Masaki interrupts him.
"You did really well tonight. You came close, but—"
"Wait a minute, Tou-san," Masaki says, narrowing her eyes. "I won."
"W-What are you talking about?" Ichigo says, glancing at his daughter quizzically. "There was no way you could have—"
"With Utsusemi you can leave an after image of yourself that appears wounded, but you're not an after image, Tou-san. You're actually bleeding which means I got you first."
"What are you talking about? I'm not bleeding."
"Yes, you are." Masaki points a finger at his neck. There is a dark spot marring his neck. It glistens slightly.
Ichigo raises his free hand to his neck and swipes the area indicated by Masaki. "This isn't blood," he says, staring at his fingers. "It's just a bit of dirt…"
"Since when does 'dirt' continuously flow out of your neck?" Masaki said, pointing a finger at his neck where a small dark blot was forming.
"Tch, must have missed a spot," Ichigo says, bringing his hand again to his neck.
"Oh, c'mon, Tou-san, stop it. It's blood and you know it." Masaki approaches him, intent on proving him wrong. She reaches over trying to move his hand away from his neck.
"It's not blood," he said, quickly steps back and swings his blade in front of him.
"Yes, it is…"she says, grasping the katana in front of her and preparing to move it out of the way.
"Look, it's a Jigokuchō!" Ichigo says, nodding towards the area behind her.
"As if I'm falling for that," Masaki says, moving the blade aside.
A dark, fluttering creature hovers over their heads.
"See," Ichigo says.
Masaki glances at the creature briefly and when she returns her gaze to Ichigo, he has lowered his blade and is offering a finger from the hand that had previously been covering his neck. The butterfly lands neatly on the offered appendage.
Ichigo brings the finger close to his face, inclining his head slightly towards the butterfly as though keen to hear the message clearly. Narrowed violet eyes continue to stare at his neck, but the butterfly and the angle of his head block her view.
"Well, looks like I gotta run," Ichigo says, releasing the butterfly. "Konishi just came back and I—"
"You aren't leaving until you admit I finally beat you, Tou-san," Masaki says.
"How can I admit something that isn't true?"
"Tou-san, quit playing around and admit it. C'mon. It's easy just say it…" Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stares at his neck. It is devoid of any dark mark. "I can't believe you, Tou-san! You used Kidō to heal yourself!
"I did no such thing! I told you I wasn't bleeding," Ichigo says.
"Tou-san…" she starts.
"Look, Masaki, I don't have time for this. I have to go," Ichigo says, his Bankai Shihakushō disappearing. A white haori emerges over his usual Shihakushō. He turns just as Zangetsu appears on his back, a grin at the corner of his lips.
"Train harder. Maybe next time you'll win. Ja ne," he says before vanishing.
"Damn it, Tou-san, why can't you admit I beat you! I had you!" Masaki yells into the night sky.
"Masaki, are you all right?" Rukia called out to the orange-haired young woman. She was walking towards her.
Masaki blinked. "H-Hai, Kuchiki-san. Kurosaki-san took off because Zaraki-taichō is after him."
"I saw," Rukia said, quirking her brow downward slightly. Was that disappointment she detected in Masaki's voice? "Zaraki-taichō nearly knocked me over when he jumped down."
"He's really eager to fight, Kurosaki-san, isn't he?"
"Ah," Rukia said.
"Kurosaki-san, however, really isn't up to it, is he?
"I imagine it's because he nearly died last time they battled," Rukia said. "As the Eleventh Division taichō, Zaraki Kenpachi is quite vicious in his fights. It's a miracle Ichigo survived, really." Rukia's violet eyes looked distant for a moment.
A pensive expression settled over Masaki. "That battle, it occurred not too long, right?"
Rukia nodded.
"It really is a miracle he survived. He's so young…"
"He is," Rukia quietly agreed.
They were silent for several moments.
"Kuchiki-san, we should get started with the training," Masaki spoke.
Rukia blinked. "Right."
Masaki jumped back several feet and prepared her stance. Rukia withdrew Sode no Shirayuki from her sheath and settled into her own stance. She drew a deep breath as her fingers enclosed over her Zanpakutō's hilt, bracing herself for the battle to come.
The memory of Masaki and Ichigo's sparring was still fresh in her mind. It had been an excellent display of Zanjutsu. A more refined display compared to their first fight once Ichigo relaxed himself. She supposed the fool had been worried about Resonance like Masaki had said. Regardless of his nerves, he obviously had not been expecting Masaki to push him into putting more effort.
Earlier when she had held the orange haired young woman's hand, it had confirmed her suspicions about her Zanjutsu abilities. The calluses in Masaki's hand, more defined compared to her own hands, spoke of someone who constantly wielded a katana. Someone who always trained would obviously demand more effort. Especially someone who was familiar with Ichigo himself.
"Ready, Kuchiki-san?" Masaki asked.
Rukia nodded. She moved forward to meet Masaki's incoming stroke. Their blades met, letting the sound of steel striking ring around the bleak landscape once more. Metal glinted underneath the sunlight as their blades clashed repeatedly.
"You're quite skilled," Rukia said, as she deflected a blow and struck one of her own. "I have a hard time imagining you were really terrible at Zanjutsu as you claim you were."
Masaki's lips curved into a grin as she parried Rukia's blade. "I wasn't terrible. It was my best subject. My favorite. Of the Zankensoki, nothing compares to wielding a katana. I knew it ever since I first held a bokken."
Rukia swung her blade again at a lower angle. Masaki swept her blade downward, repelling it.
"I see," Rukia said.
She did inherit Ichigo's talent for Zanjutsu.
Rukia said nothing else as Masaki steadily increased the pace of their sword fighting with each stroke. With each movement, Rukia felt herself having to move faster and swifter. Her ears rang with the clangs of their katanas. Her heart thudded against chest and her breath quickened.
She raised her katana in front of her to catch Masaki's blade. The orange haired young woman pressed against her blade. Rukia pushed hard. Metal grated. Rukia could feel sweat building on her forehead. Ignoring the pain in her arms, Rukia continued to push even harder against Masaki. Their blades separated.
The raven-haired Shinigami gracefully flipped backwards in midair from the force of their parting.
"Hadō 33: Sōkatsui," Masaki said, unleashing blue flames from the palm of her hand.
Rukia dodged.
"Sōkatsui."
Rukia disappeared and reappeared higher in the air.
"Sōkatsui."
Rukia avoided it again, by Shunpoeing lower.
"Sōkatsui."
Rukia narrowly dodged that one, feeling the flames stir her hair as they blew past.
"Hadō 4: Byakurai."
Rukia leaped and back flipped over the incoming lightning approaching her from behind. She braced herself, seeing that Masaki was now standing several feet across from her in the air.
"Hadō 31: Shakkahō," Rukia said quickly before the young woman could approach her or utter a Kidō spell.
Masaki dodged it and disappeared.
Catching a glint of metal behind her, Rukia whirled around, feet sliding back as Masaki struck her blade against hers. Rukia strained. Masaki flipped her katana aside and they drew apart. Rukia took a moment to catch her breath.
Masaki attacked her again and Rukia deflected her attacks. Rukia sidestepped her last stroke and leapt backwards several paces.
"Hadō 33: Sōkatsui," she cried out, aiming for the ground.
Dust billowed from the cracked earth putting a barrier between Masaki and her. Rukia quickly disappeared and reappeared behind Masaki, unleashing several Sōkatsui. The orange young woman deftly dodged them and landed on the ground.
"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki," Rukia said, and her Zanpakutō turned pure white from the blade down to the elegant ribbon extending from the pommel.
"Some no mai, Tsukishiro," Rukia yelled.
A white circle glowed underneath where Masaki stood. Ice began to form, but Masaki back flipped out of the way before the tower of ice that erupted seconds later could encase her.
Rukia lowered to the ground and strained her senses to see where Masaki would attack from next. She tightened her grip on her Zanpakutō. Suddenly the ice tower before her snapped and crackled. Jagged pieces of ice hurtled towards her as a whirling, widening current of air swept them up.
Rukia recognized it as Hadō 58: Tenran. She leapt back and quickly settled into her stance for her next dance. "Tsugi no mai, Hakuren."
A wave of snow shot out of her blade, colliding with the dangerous air current. There was an explosion as the snow solidified to ice. Chunks of ice that had exploded upon impact fell onto the ground.
Out of the rising chill, Masaki appeared above Rukia, driving her blade against hers. Rukia skidded on the ground. She gritted her teeth and pushed back. Their blades slid away for a fraction of a second before colliding again. Rukia worked hard to deflect Masaki's attacks. Seeing an opening, Rukia swung her blade, but Masaki leapt over it and propelled herself over Rukia.
Spinning around, Rukia pointed a finger at Masaki. "Hadō 4: Byakurai."
Lightning streaked across the ground. Masaki swiftly back flipped out its line of fire. The wall of the valley rose behind her.
"Tsugi no mai, Hakuren," Rukia said, directing her blade toward her.
As the white wave of snow rushed towards her, Masaki held out her Zanpakutō in front of her and said, "Descend, Hyōketsu Kiri."
Her katana glowed pale lavender. The light faded revealing a translucent white blade emanating wisps of mist. A silver, hollow diamond guard had replaced the bronze rectangular guard with diamond etchings. The hilt had become white with royal purple lozenges running across the length; nearly the opposite of its sealed state (the lozenges had been bronze).
Masaki lowered her arm, turning her Zanpakutō to the side in front of her and said, "Tsumetaikiri no Tate."
Mist swirled from it in front of her, forming a rectangular shape and hardening into a thin sheet of ice. The rectangular shield glittered in the sunlight before the massive wave of snow slammed into it.
There was a loud cracking noise as a fracture appeared on the now frozen block of ice formed by Hakuren upon impact, followed by the thunderous sound of what appeared to be hundreds of glasses shattering as more cracks erupted into the ice. Rukia felt the ground tremble beneath her, and she raised her free arm protectively over her face as Hakuren crumbled into miniature chunks of ice and flew into the air along with a cloud of mist.
Rukia lowered her arm when she deemed it same enough.
She reduced Hakuren to nothing.
She stared amazed at the icy landscape before her. Pieces of ice littered the frozen ground, now clothed in mist. Mist began to sweep across the area towards her, surrounding her. Rukia tensed. She spun.
Her solid white blade clashed against Masaki's shimmering translucent blade.
"We're not done yet, Kuchiki-san," Masaki said over their crossed blades. "We're just getting started. You can do better than that." Her eyes shone with a knowing gleam.
Bringing her Zanpakutō around sharply, Masaki intercepts a downward slash. The metallic collision echoes dully around the barren training ground. Sand crunches beneath waraji and flies upward as Masaki's blade meets against her opponent's blade. Amethyst eyes met violet.
With dark brows contracted, Rukia stares at Masaki briefly before swinging her blade hard. Her hair, slightly longer than shoulder length, flutters behind her.
Masaki leaps away from Rukia, short orange hair bouncing against her shoulders. A white crescent moon pulls her hair back away from her face except for two pairs of small strands that stubbornly sprout forth over her forehead and thicker, chin length bangs that frame her face. Her black Shihakushō flutters as the wind caresses it. A black sheath hangs from her waist.
Masaki adjusts her grip on her Zanpakutō. She charges towards Rukia and swings her blade. Flicking her wrist, Rukia parries the stroke. Blades flash in the sunlight. Metal clangs and twangs, steadily building to a crescendo as the Shinigami women move more rapidly and swiftly with each blow. Every movement is precise and true as though well-rehearsed.
Masaki slips slightly, and Rukia whirls around moving her blade in a downward arc. The orange-haired Shinigami woman raises her sword over her head; her right hand holds the hilt while the other holds the flat edge of the blade.
"All right, Masaki," Rukia says, pulling her blade away. "That was a good warm up. Are you ready for more?"
Masaki nods. She lowers her katana and straightens. Gripping their Zanpakutō, both women circle each other warily. Masaki leaps over Rukia's blade gracefully and attacks her from behind. Rukia spins, dark hair whirling, as she catches the stroke. Metal scrapes against metal and then they draw apart.
"Hadō 33: Sōkatsui," Rukia says, her palm glowing blue.
Blue flames soar towards Masaki. She vanishes and appears in the air.
"Sōkatsui," Rukia called out again. She fires five more of those spells, each growing larger than the last.
The orange-haired young woman dances around the flames. The last spell, however, has been directed at the ground, which sends a shower of dirt up in the air. She raises a hand to shield her face and falls backwards. She tumbles to the ground. She manages to flip herself just before she hits the ground and rolls, pulling herself into a crouch. She starts coughing.
Catching a flicker of red through the haze, Masaki rolls again narrowly missing being hit by the red ball of energy whizzing past.
"Good reflexes," Rukia says, appearing as the dust settles. Masaki pulls herself to her feet. A small smile graces her lips before she jumps and vanishes.
"Hadō 33: Sōkatsui."
A blue flash appears behind Rukia. She whirls around, deflecting it with her sealed Sode no Shirayuki.
"Hadō 33: Sōkatsui."
Blue flames now soar toward her from behind.
"Hadō 33: Sōkatsui."
Blue Reiryoku surges toward her from the front.
"Hadō 1: Shō," Rukia said, pointing a finger at the blue flames heading towards her. They immediately changed course and slammed into the walls across the training field. She swiftly turns around and deflects the other spell approaching her from behind with her blade.
"Hadō 31: Shakkahō."
Rukia turns and curls her hand into a fist and simply says, "Bakudō 8: Seki."
The spell rebounds off an invisible shield. Rukia's feet slide as she parries an incoming blow from above her. With a determined look on her face, Masaki pushes forward but Rukia holds fast. Sweat dribbles down Masaki's forehead. She presses a bit more, pressing her blade to the side against Rukia's and then the dark-haired Shinigami pulls away.
Rukia appears several feet away, holds her katana upside out, and turns it counterclockwise. "Dance, Sode no Shirayuki."
"Some no Mai, Tsukishiro."
A white circle appears below Masaki's feet. She quickly leaps to the other side, but just as ice formed on the other side of her, another circle glows underneath her feet. She Shunpos out of the way and lands behind the ice towers.
"Hadō 4: Byakurai." She points a finger at the ice towers, shattering them as she jumps backwards.
"Descend, Hyōketsu Kiri," she says.
She points her Zanpakutō forward and releases mist across the surrounding area. The air becomes clothed in the silvery white haze. Suddenly the ground rumbles beneath her feet and mist starts to part as a large, moving shadow approaches.
"Tsumetaikiri no Tate," Masaki shouts. Mist swirls in front of her in the shape of a rectangle and becomes a thin sheet of ice.
Her hair whips about, and she braced herself as a wave of ice slams into her shield. She closes her eyes slightly upon impact and breathes hard.
The icy shield seems to strain under the pressure, but it remained stable. A distinct cracking noise filled the air, followed by another one.
"Your defensive power has improved. You managed to at least put two cracks on Hakuren," Rukia notes, appearing behind Masaki.
Masaki turns around and holds her Zanpakutō defensively.
"That's enough, Masaki." Rukia waves her hand in a gesture signaling for her to drop her katana. "We're done for today."
"But, Kaa-san," Masaki starts.
"That was more than enough training for today. I do have work to do, you know."
"Can't you push it back?" Masaki asks.
"Masaki," Rukia says, shaking her head in an amused sort of way. "This break was nice, but I do have to get back to my work. Besides, speaking of breaks, aren't you supposed to be off today? Now that I think about it, didn't you say you would have Wednesday off?"
"I do have it off," Masaki admits sheepishly.
"Then why aren't you relaxing?"
"This is relaxing," Masaki replies, smiling.
"You know what I mean." Rukia shoots her a look.
Masaki sighs as her Zanpakutō reverts to its released state and slips it into its sheath. She walks towards her mother.
"Well, I would have actually relaxed if Toshi hadn't been assigned to Northern Rukongai. Ran-chan is coming later today from the World of the Living, so I'll see her later. You know I can't stand doing absolutely nothing. You're the one who said you needed the break, remember?" Masaki says, as she starts walking side-by-side Rukia.
"Hai, but—"
"Besides, Kaa-san, you know I'm always open to train with you. I'm still working on trying to beat you on Shikai."
"And I'm sure once you do, you'll waste no time on working to beat me on Bankai, huh?" A knowing gleam appears in Rukia's eyes.
"It's only logical, right?" Masaki says in a nonchalant manner.
"I have no doubt you'll accomplish those feats someday, Masaki. You're very talented and dedicated. Your skills have already surpassed what I managed during the brief time I spent in the Academy and during my early years as a Shinigami. I'm proud of all the effort you place into your training, but you need to relax too. You have all the time in the world to get where you want to be."
"I know that. I'm not in a rush. I rejected a seated position."
"You may have rejected it, but you still work harder than all my Twentieth seats."
"Well, that's their business."
"Are you ready to continue, Kuchiki-san?" Masaki said, peering into violet eyes.
Rukia nodded, feeling as though the Shinigami woman was looking right through her. "Hai."
She wondered how her power in the future compared to now. Masaki spoke with absolutely certainty that she could do better. She didn't doubt that she improved, but she wasn't quite sure what to imagine.
"Okay, let's do this," Masaki said.
Sitting on an icy boulder, Rukia glanced out into what was once an arid landscape. Ice now covered the floor, glacial protrusions rose from the ground forming icy caves, and a thick fog encased them. Her own breath was hardly discernible amongst the thick vapor surrounding her.
She was sure if it weren't so cold, her body would be screaming in protest. Training had been quite demanding, pushing to her to the limits in a way she hadn't been since she fought with the Noveno Espada, Aaroniero Arruruerie. Granted that had been an actual fight and this had been merely training, but still she dared compared the strain her body underwent to that level.
She felt she had not truly trained like this since Kaien-dono pushed her into training hard when she first arrived to the Thirteenth Division. Back then with her incomplete Academy education, she had felt as though improving her Zanjutsu abilities and achieving Shikai had been the most difficult thing she had ever done. She always felt the difficulty of her subsequent training paled to her strenuous work she had done with Kaien-dono.
However, now she had to rethink that. Training with Masaki had been much more difficult than that. Much more difficult than the training Renji had afforded her when she had recuperated her Reiryoku. In hindsight, that had appeared to be a nice chat among old friends as they reacquainted themselves. The idiot had not truly pressed her.
Though Rukia had wanted to train with Inoue, deep down she had known it wouldn't truly be training for herself. It had been training for Inoue. As much as the girl was willing to learn how to use her powers more efficiently, she had been learning to acclimate to battle as well. They had trained as intensely as they could, but the truth was that the intensity of the training was more suited for Inoue rather than for herself. Even if they had had the entire four months to train before the Arrancar arrived as they had originally hoped, training like that wouldn't have truly sharpened her skills.
Four months was such a short time, but Rukia was sure her skills could have made drastic improvement training like she did today. Masaki had pushed her in Zanjutsu, Kidō, and Hohō, offering her encouragement and suggestions to help her perform better. Rukia could tell the young woman was used to offering instructions. She even revealed during the training how her mother used to help her in training.
The training along with the assurances by Masaki that her mother had been an important part of her training couldn't help but stir in her the desire to train as hard as she could once the war was over. She wanted to be as strong as her future daughter was.
She wanted to perform the best she could. For her pride as well as Nii-sama's pride and the clan's, but above all for her. She had never truly felt a desire to really submit herself to arduous training or reach a seated position. She had mostly aspired for the latter because she had wanted to make Nii-sama proud. Ironically, she had found out some time later, he had barred her from obtaining a seated position.
Now she did want to gain strength and even find a way for Ukitake-taichō to appoint her a seated position.
"That was a good training session, Kuchiki-san," Masaki said. She was sitting on a flat icy boulder across from Rukia. Her fingers were idly tinkering with the royal purple hilt of her Zanpakutō, which was stabbed into the frozen ground.
"It was. Arigatō, Masaki," Rukia smiled.
"There's no need for thanks. I needed that as well. Nothing beats a good workout. Helps hone your skills and clears your mind. It's relaxing," Masaki said, returning her smile.
Underneath her calm exterior, she must be worried, Rukia thought. Masaki was doing a good job at hiding any worries she might have about being in the past, but she knew that the orange haired Shinigami woman must have them.
"I wonder how Kurosaki-san is doing," Masaki said. "Do you think he managed to escape from Zaraki-taichō, or is he on the brink of death?"
"Well, knowing Ichigo can be determined when he's set his mind to something, he might have pulled off an escape."
Masaki grinned. "But, you know, training with Zaraki-taichō could have been beneficial to him. The training I saw him doing with Abarai-fukutaichō wasn't good, you know."
"Perhaps, but the Fourth Division doesn't need any more emergencies."
"You have a point, Kuchiki-san."
Quick Glossary
Hai- yes
Gomen- sorry
Reiryoku- spirit energy
Reiatsu- spiritual pressure. Note: Spiritual pressure is spiritual energy (Reiryoku) in the form of an aura be it visible or not, that is released during fights.
Katana- sword
Tou-san- dad
Oyaji- dad/old man
[Way of Onmitsu, 3rd of the Shihō] Utsusemi (Cicada)-shunpo move that is so fast that leaves an after image. The after image can appear to have taken damage. Byakuya uses this move against Zommari Leroux.
Bokken- wooden sword
Some no Mai, Tsukishiro- First Dance, White Moon
Tsugi no mai, Hakuren- Next dance, White Ripple
Zankensoki- Basic Shinigami techniques
Hyōketsu Kiri- Freezing Mist
Tsumetaikiri no Tate- Icy Mist Shield (Attack now added to sword's profile on deviantart)
Waraji- straw sandals
Kaa-san- mom
Hohō- agility (shunpo).
The Fourth Division's nutritionally fortified soup comes from an omake featured in the Bleach Official Bootleg. You can read the descriptions of this omake and others on Bleach Wikia if you're interested. Just look up Tedious Everyday Tales or something to that effect.
Don't forget to review. Reviews are essential to my motivation.