Breath of the Moon
Ch 5: Breath of the Moon (Jazz Hands)
"Speaking"
'Thinking'
"Blood Demon Art"
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Dragonlord001: Perhaps… But as I said, I had it on the brain when I wrote out the chapter. It would have driven me insane if I hadn't gotten it out of my system.
Hi… okay, I know I said I would update at the beginning of the month, but I've just been in this kind of depressive funk. If anything, I probably should have used that Ice storm last week as motivation to write while I was stuck inside. We do have priority power here as the house runs on the same power lines as the local water reservoir, so when the rest of the city was going dark, our power was only gone for about four hours. It was a mess. We rarely have ice storms that severe.
After hearing all that, Ichigo was unsure. Learning a breathing style from a former demon seemed to slap in the face of everything a demon slayer. Kokoushibo, with his centuries of experience, could tell with just a glance.
"You are apprehensive. That is good, as you aren't blindly trusting of others." The late demon complimented. "But, sometimes, you have to listen to your instincts. What do they say about me?"
Ichigo looked at Michikatsu for a long while, trying to get a read on the six-eyed man. "My instincts… tell me you mean no harm, and you're genuine in your offer. But, am I truly the best you can make do with? I only have six months of training, and I've yet to learn anything but Total Concentration, its variants, and basic swordsmanship."
"That fact that you learned Constant and Recovery, something that is usually learned after one becomes a demon slayer through experience, speaks volumes to your talent." Michikatsu shook his head. "But regardless of that, the few others that I have encountered that did have the potential couldn't physically see me. And what remains of my breathing style within the Demon Slayer Corps is a single journal from before I finalized my breathing, as I destroyed all other copies of my Style when I became a demon. And those notes aren't enough to rebuild a lost Breathing Style."
"Why would you do such a thing?" Ichigo asked. "And how did those notes survive when you destroyed the others?"
Michikatsu looked away. "I had believed that as an immortal, I had all the time in the world to refine my style. But, I lost myself to my madness. And now, I'm on borrowed time and likely not to see my next birthday. You are quite literally my last chance. And I overlocked those notes, as they had been kept in a separate location from where I stored the other texts."
Ichigo looked down and thought for a minute. Like Breath of Hell, Breath of the Moon was more closely related to Sun Breathing than any other breathing style, as Kenji had described it. And if he was capable of learning Breath of the Moon, it gave him a distinct advantage over most demons. Hell, he might even be able to take on a Demon Moon solo within a couple of years of experience.
Ichigo met Michikatsu's six eyes. "I accept."
The ghost of a demon smiled. "Excellent. Over the course of the next three months, I shall be teaching you two versions of my Breathing Style. One used when I was human, and one when I was a demon. Based on your high spiritual power, I suspect you could replicate my Blood Demon Art to shoot out compressed waves of energy. But learning the Human side will enable you to teach this to a future student who doesn't have your levels of power."
Ichigo was confused… power? What was the Uppermoon talking about? "How… why do you believe I have such a power? Nobody else ever said anything about that."
Six eyes rolled. "You're leaking energy like a waterfall, but only those dead or aware of the dead notice it. I just happened to have the good fortune to witness a few Spiritual energy users in the decades I've been dead, so I can tell you're capable of replicating their abilities. This reminds me; stay away from an individual named Kugo Ginjo. Interacting with that man is not to your best health, as from what I could tell, he's very unstable and will use you to his own ends."
"Uh, got it. Stay away from anybody named Kugo Ginjo." Ichigo weakly replied. Then, he noted something missing about Michikatsu. "Wait, how are you going to teach me if you can't even use the Bokken I have?"
Michikatsu looked at Ichigo for a moment. The former demon wished he could raise an eyebrow sarcastically, one of the few things he missed doing from when he was a human and only had two eyes. Something poked from his arm as he grabbed the protrusion with his other hand. He pulled out a sword with a few of his eyes on it. "Even as a spirit, I still retain a limited version of my Blood Demon Art. I lack the power to fight off those Hollows, but I should have no issue teaching you."
Ichigo couldn't help but ask, "Hollows?"
The demon's six eyes, plus the eyes on the sword, blinked. "Monsters with bone white masks and holes in their chests." He could see the floating question mark over Ichigo's head. "You've yet to encounter them? Perhaps for the best, the Hollows would likely target you if you cross paths with them. Nevertheless, I'm not here to educate you in the matters of the dead; sooner or later, you'll find out on your own."
For two and a half weeks, Michikatsu stayed in the same training area, where Ichigo would go after school and on his free days. Every waking moment, Ichigo wasn't doing school work; he was learning under Michikatsu. It was only when Kenji returned that problems started to arise. And Ichigo wasn't present to diffuse the situation, as his school had another hour to go before being let out.
Four pale blue arrows of energy surrounded the demon's head, who simply sat calmly. "Explain to me why I shouldn't wipe your very soul from existence here and now, Uppermoon 1?" Kenji bit out in a growl.
Koukoshibou breathed in, then out, even if he didn't physically need to. "Because I'm the only one who can teach the breathing style best suited for young Ichigo Kurosaki."
Kenji blinked. "You mean he's a Moon Breather?"
Michikatsu looked at Kenji wearily. "You don't sound that shocked."
Kenji's eyes rolled. "Ichigo is of a bloodline that has a strong connection with moon themes, with a few rare exceptions. It was a strong likelihood he'd be suited for that style." He explained.
"You knew of that fact, and yet you didn't deign to tell him?" The late Uppermoon asked.
"It's not my job to explain things about his own background; that's what his father is for. I'm simply here to teach him in exchange for free room and board." Kenji retorted.
"How cold," Michikatsu said, "Then again, you are the pragmatic monster we Uppermoons ran away from constantly for centuries. Only Yoriichi could compare to your terror."
Kenji smiled. "Thanks for the compliment, but he was a Freak of Nature all to himself. In the five years I traveled with him, he never once gave off the slightest hint of bloodlust to anything. Any other human, at any other point in time, would have some desire to kill something, anything, but not him. And his raw skill puts him on par, if not higher than some of the swordsmen I knew."
"Those black-wearing swordsmen who kill the hollows, yes?" The demon asked.
"I'm surprised you know about hollows, but yes. The uniforms are called Shihakusho, and the swordsmen are Shinigami or Soul Reapers. And no, I'm not talking about the average patroller. I'm talking about people who possess true skill and power, like Captain Yachiru Unohana. If there were ever a woman who could terrorize so effectively, it would be her." Kenji smiled almost fondly.
"She sounds like a true nightmare if somebody like you idolizes her." Michikatsu pointed out.
"She is, which is why it's in your best interest not to run into her once both of you make it to Hell. She'll metaphorically and literally destroy you." Kenji warned the demon.
"Is she destined for Hell as well?" The demon asked, intrigued.
"Yes. Although she would have ended up there regardless of the mountains of corpses she's left behind. If a Shinigami of a certain level of power or higher dies, it becomes dangerous to leave the body around for too long, so it's thrown into hell to be discarded. However, don't tell anybody that. The few that know that truth can be counted on two hands." Kenji explained.
"I see," Michikatsu replied, "Well, regardless, we should resolve our injunction before young Kurosaki returns. Would you be willing to let me teach him until my time is up? And perhaps help me transcribe my style on paper when not teaching?"
Kenji made a showing of thinking about it. "That's not a bad idea, but what can you offer in return? I don't do things for free after all, and the moment Ichigo learns all that I can teach him in regards to slaying demons is the moment I lose access to a free place to sleep and eat. So it's not in my best interest to accelerate his training too much." Kenji replied.
"How selfish. But fine. Would information on the Eight Kizuki do?" The former Uppermoon suggested.
Kenji's eyes lit up with excitement. "I know a little bit about the first moon and how they're rebelling against Muzan. But I know nothing about the others. Fighting two or three at once would be an exciting prospect. If you can provide their physical descriptions and their usual locations of operation, then you have a deal."
"Not their blood demon arts?" Michikatsu asked.
Kenji grinned. "What fun would it be if I didn't learn what they could do firsthand? I want a decent fight."
"Very well." Koukoshibo agreed to the terms.
Shinji Hirako scowled. Love, Lisa, and Hiyori were all too lazy to just leave the hideout and get what was on their personal shopping lists. Meanwhile, Kensei and Mashiro were out on a training trip to a nearby mountain range, and Hachigen was doing a game night at Urahara's place with Tessai. And Rōjūrō was soul king knows where… maybe a concert or something. That left only him to get things. He was supposed to be the leader, dammit!
He glanced up at the night sky and sighed. Oh well, he'd been meaning to get out of the hideout for a couple of weeks now but hadn't had a good enough excuse. At least it was a pleasant night, with no hollows anywhere near. He decided a slow and leisurely walk would be the perfect revenge for those three, even if Hiyori's sandal hurt like hell.
"YAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" A sudden scream snapped him out of his daydreaming. He ran around a corner, only to find something big gnawing on a dead man's body. The scream seemed to come from a woman who was presumably the man's wife.
Suddenly, Shinji ran towards the monster and kicked it off the dead man. Unfortunately, with his more petite body, it wasn't entirely effective at throwing the monster more than a couple of meters. But what did you expect from a Gigai? "Run! Go!" He called out to the frozen woman.
She didn't visibly respond and stared at the body of her husband. Shinji bit out a curse. 'She's in shock. Need to get this… whatever it is, away from her.'
"Interference." The monster said as it stood up. It was nine feet tall, dark, and ugly. Fangs bore out of the mouth. And within its eyes were the Kanji for Eighth Moon. "As one of the demon moons, I cannot tolerate that in any circumstance. BLOOD DEMON ART: CHIMERA KING!" The demon's body started to stretch and contort, taking on a more significant, more terrifying appearance of some mishmash of wild animals. Wolves, foxes, lizards, and various birds; Shinji swore he even saw some African animals like a lion and a zebra.
"What the hell are you?" Shinji said, cursing his stupidity at leaving his Zanpakto behind at the base. It would be handy right now because he wasn't anywhere near good enough with Kido to fight on that alone.
"I AM ONE OF THE DEMON KING'S MIGHTEST WARRIORS! AND I WILL NOT BE STOPPED BY SOMEBODY WHO ISN'T EVEN A HASHIRA!" The monster roared as it tried to crush Shinji under its mass.
It was with a quick burst of Shunpo that Shinji dodged the demon's attempt. The demon looked startled when the Vizord suddenly vanished, only for a punch to hit it in the face. "HOW ARE YOU THAT FAST?!" It cried out as one of its ten hands held the nose delicately.
Shinji's perpetual grin widened. "What, you've never seen a Shinigami before?" He mocked.
"Shinigami? Is that some new title for a Demon Slayer?" The demon paused. "Well, no matter. You'll fall all the same."
"Are you certain of that?" A young male voice said as a figure stepped from around the corner. Shinji turned towards the voice. "As the Flower Hashira, it's my duty to exterminate you with extreme prejudice."
Shinji studied the newcomer. He was young, no older than that of an 18-year-old. A small butterfly pin was positioned at the top of a series of gold buttons on a black uniform with a white flower-patterned Haori overtop. Warm green eyes, pale red hair, and freckles adorned the young man's face. He was also wearing a travel pack. "Flower Breathing, Fourth Form: Crimson Hanagoromo." The young man jumped, and with a show of grace Shinji rarely witnessed, the sword twisted, taking off one of the demon's legs.
It screamed as the leg quickly grew back. "HASHIRA! I'LL BE THE DEATH OF YOU!" Suddenly, a flurry of arms rushed the young man. His subconscious urged Shinji to run in front, but the Hashira was already acting.
"We shall see. Flower Breathing, Fifth Form: Peonies of Futility." An overlaid grid of nine slashes met the barrage and cut through. The demon roared in sudden pain.
Shinji called out to the teen. "Hey, you got a spare sword on hand?" The Vizord asked. "Kinda left my blade at home."
The Hashira looked at him, confused. "A sword? Why would a civilian need a sword?" The red-head asked.
"Trust me, if you got a spare on hand, we can be done with this much sooner." Shinji's voice shined with clear-cut confidence.
The Hashira snorted. "Well, from what I can sense, you are strong, likely stronger than me." He said. "Guess today is your lucky day; you get to have my spare Nichirin Blade." He pulled out a smaller-than-standard katana from the travel pack on his back. "I keep this on hand in case my regular blade is damaged beyond use during a mission. I never pulled it out before."
Shinji caught the blade and pulled off the sheath. The silver metal suddenly shifted to a different color, which was difficult to make out in the nighttime light. The Hashira looked a little surprised, not expecting this unknown civilian to have a level of sword mastery high enough to satisfy the blade. And the moment the Hashira blinked, the grin-wearing man suddenly vanished from view as the Demon screamed. The Hashira turned back, only to see a clean slice right down the middle of the Demon's head and Shinji on the other side of the moon. 'He didn't even use a breathing technique.' Suddenly, the situation caught up to the Hashira.
"No! THAT'S NO GOOD! YOU NEED TO DECAPITATE IT." Shinji jumped from the sudden noise before being slammed by a hoof and sent flying. The Hashira ran forward, engaged the demon's many attacks, and kept its attention.
Shinji landed face first, feeling the road burn on his skin. If he weren't in a Gigai, that would have hurt far less. He pushed himself off the ground, giving off a rare frown. The Hashira had reengaged the demon, and the pair were moving at a speed no ordinary human should be physically capable of. As the Vizord watched, waiting for an opening that wouldn't endanger the other swordsman, he mentally kicked himself for assuming this thing was the same as Hollows and would fall like them.
Suddenly, he saw an opening and went for the neck. The move only managed to partially decapitate the monster. 'Too shallow! I'm not used to using a blade with actual weight to it, especially one this short.'
"Too… Powerful… Need to… Retreat!" The monster called out as its neck slowly healed. "SIXTH MOON!" The demon screamed. A moment passed, and what little shadow the demon had in the night light suddenly stretched, and a man in a suit rose from the shadow. He looked human, but the Kanji for Sixth Moon in his eyes was not.
The Hashira and Shinji stood at the ready for a sudden attack. But the second demon wasn't paying them mind. "That man is displeased with your display." The sixth moon said, causing the Eighth Moon to flinch. "But I have been ordered to pull you back regardless, as you still have some use. BLOOD DEMON ART: Shadow Walker."
A giant black shadow rose from the sixth moon. It rose higher than the eighth moon's physical size and crashed down on him like a Tsunami, causing the massive demon to disappear. The sixth moon looked around before meeting Shinji's eyes. "My master will be interested in whatever you are." Suddenly, the demon began to sink. "See you around, Shinigami."
"WAIT!" Shinji called out as he tried to take the demon's head. But it was too late, as the demon vanished into the shadow, and the shadow disappeared entirely. He scowled before turning to the Hashira. "What was that about, huh? Why didn't you help me stop him?"
The redhead shook his head. "It would have been futile. Taking on the eighth moon with just the two of us would be difficult, but if we were to fight the Sixth moon simultaneously, it might as well be suicide." The Hashira narrowed his eyes. "Now, I have a question for you. What is a Shinigami?"
Shinji frowned. "I honestly think I shouldn't tell you. Might end up blowing your whole world-view."
"Can't be any worse than immortal man-eating monsters and color-changing swords."
Shinji looked at the Hashira for a solid minute. "Yeah, good point." The Vizord relented.
The Eighth Moon was unceremoniously deposited within the Shadow Realm of the Sixth Moon's Blood Demon Art. When the still-transformed demon scrambled to his feet, standing in front of him was a young man. He was dressed in a Western Business Suit in inverted colors and wore a spiffy hat. His red-tipped hair framed his face with flame marks decorating said face.
"M-my lord I…" The demon moon began.
"Be quiet." The demon fell silent as pain suddenly wreaked its body. It was forced to revert to its smaller form and squirmed on the ground, leaking blood from all of its orifices. It lasted for ten minutes before Muzan finally let up on the pain. "I'm disappointed in you, Dōbutō. You couldn't handle one Hashira and somebody who isn't even a Demon Slayer. You shame Demon kind, and more importantly, you shame my name."
"But my lord, that wasn't an ordinary human he…" The moon tried to say.
"I said be quiet." More pain suddenly wracked the demon's body. "I will make any such determinations, and you will accept your punishment regardless. Now, show me what I want to see."
The demon moon made no attempt to keep Muzan out of his mind. Not that he could. At this close of proximity, Muzan could make the demon punch itself in the face, and it wouldn't be able to do so much as twitch to resist. Memories of the whole ordeal flowed out of the demon's head right into the head of the King.
Muzan looked at the incident repeatedly until he was satisfied for the moment. "I should strip you of your title." Muzan began, "But… I lack any competent demon to take your place. However, one more mistake on your part, and I won't just cast you out of the moons; I'll wipe you from existence."
The moon began to praise his master's mercy. Muzan's eyes narrowed. "Get this waste out of my sight." The realm stretched and enveloped the giant demon, leaving Muzan to his thoughts.
"…Shinigami," Muzan muttered to himself.
"That wasn't nice." A voice from within Muzan's own head called out.
"Nice is irrelevant. Demons, if not guided properly, tend to overstep. Like Tamayo. If you want to do something about it, all you have to do is accept your destiny as my successor, Tanjiro." Muzan said to himself.
"Not a chance."
Muzan sighed. "This is why you're packed so tightly in there. If you had just accepted your role, then I would be happy to give you back your body and let you make the decisions. But you still cling to your humanity despite no longer being one."
"Human, demon, it doesn't matter. Because I will continue to fight for what I believe is right."
Muzan scowled. He had been trying to get Tanjiro to succeed him as the perfect being, but even decades later, the boy was still defiant. This was why he was actively looking for more Blue Spider Lily to either completely take over or wipe Tanjiro's mind to make him malleable as the new demon king. But none of the demons he created were immune to the sun, so they couldn't look 24/7, and Muzan was always busy with something else.
A shadow rose from the ground as the Sixth Moon revealed himself kneeling. "My king."
"Tell me everything you gathered from this 'Shinigami.' Perhaps they hold one of the keys I need." One of Kagemori's benefits was that he could hide in anybody's shadows and not be detected through ordinary means. He also had more combat abilities than Nakime did. The downside was he couldn't attack while he was within a shadow. This made him both the ultimate transport and the ultimate spy for the demon king.
Although, Muzan was still missing the infinity castle and its splendor. This Shadow Realm had nothing more than black shapes that shifted wildly.
"Breath of the Moon, Second Form: Peral Flower Moongazing." Ichigo, in quick succession, launched three crescent-shaped slashes, cutting right through the Tatami mat they were using. It stood still for a moment before falling apart in chunks.
"Excellent. You've managed to get down the physical form of the second technique." Michikatsu praised, "However, your technique was far slower than it should be. Do it again, this time even faster."
As Ichigo practiced repeatedly, Michikatsu watched while Kenji leaned against a tree nearby. Kenji's Nichirin blades were currently out for repair, and until he got them back, he couldn't go out and slay demons without alerting Soul Society or the Quincies to his presence and power.
"I must admit, Ichigo's capability with Moon Breathing is spectacular. At the rate he's going, he'll enter this year's final selection rather than next year's." Kenji commented. "It would have been challenging to teach him another breathing style."
Kenji shifted his attention to Michikatsu and his short chain of fate. "Although, you should probably stop having him repeat the techniques and teach him all of your forms before your chain disappears completely. From what I sense, you've got two and a half months… at best."
Michikatsu frowned. Kenji had a very valid point. But at the same time, the former Uppermoon didn't want to rush a student—quite the conundrum.
Ichigo was a superb student, learning the first and second forms of Moon breathing in two weeks, even if they weren't yet mastered. The problem was that there were 16 forms. Of those 16, there were twice as many variants when harnessing supernatural energy like a blood demon art or the spiritual energy that Ichigo had. And he had a lot. This is where Kenji becomes useful, as he can help Ichigo draw out that power. And with the transcribing of the techniques, Michikatsu didn't have to worry about his art becoming lost to time.
Mind made up, Michikatsu whistled, grabbing Ichigo's attention. "Your teacher makes a compelling point. We'll move on to the third form. Continue to practice when I am not instructing you."
The little girl woke up. She was alone in a big room. Along the walls were colorful patterns, and in a corner was a box TV mounted on the wall. When she sat up in the bed, something beeped loudly, and a woman rushed in. She immediately began to fuss over the child. "Hello there, how are you, young lady?"
The little girl looked at the nurse. "Who, who are you? Where am I?" She asked in English.
The nurse blinked. "Oh dear, it would appear you don't know any Japanese. Well, I can now confidently say my choice in a second language was the correct one." The nurse began in English. "How are you?"
"Uh, good? I, I don't know. Who am I?" The girl asked, her memory wholly gone.
"Oh no. It's worse than I could have suspected." The nurse mumbled to herself in Japanese. She quickly switched back to English. "Sorry about that, dear. I'm going to take a few of your vitals, then go talk to the doctor. In the meantime," The Nurse paused as he opened a cabinet under the TV in the corner. "I'll put on an English VHS. We don't have many, as we rarely get English speakers in the child ward, but the few we do have are great. Disney only, though. Let's see. We have Snow White, Bambi, The Aristocats, Lady and the Tramp, Cinderella, and 101 Dalmatians. Do any of those titles sound interesting?" The nurse asked the girl.
The girl paused. There was something about one of those titles that sounded familiar. "B-Bambi?" She said mostly to herself. That sounded so familer. 'Bambi? Bambi? Bambi-wambi? No. Bambito? No. Bambietta? Wait… that's right, Bambietta.'
The nurse, completely misunderstanding the situation, hummed to herself. "Bambi, huh, a bit of a surprise, but sure. I'll put that on." The nurse opened the case, set up the TV and VCR, and set the tape to run. She grabbed the remote and held it up to the girl, pointing to certain buttons. "This button is to fast forward, this is to stop, and this is to rewind the tape. If you want to turn the TV on or off, press this red button here." With that, the nurse pointed the remote to the TV and pressed play.
The blue screen flickered and seemed to captivate the young girl. The nurse giggled as she started to jot down notes on her clipboard. When she was done, the nurse paused the video playback. "If you need to use the bathroom, press the red button on your right. It'll contract the device on my clip called a pager, and I'll rush right back to help you." She resumed the movie and left the room.
Over the next week, the hospital would scramble to take care of an amnesiac, who had strangely taken to the name Bambietta, despite it not being a conventional name. The little girl ran out of movies to watch and asked for some books, which her nurse was happy to get, even if there were few English options in the Hospital Library. As Bambietta was oblivious to all of that, the hospital contacted the Japanese government, which then reached out to countries that spoke English to hunt down the girl's mother or father. But even with the assistance of the newly burgeoning internet, the few countries with their bureaucracy running smoothly reported no missing children that matched Bambietta. There were a lot of close matches, but after quick investigations were done, none of the missing children ever left their home countries on any records, which meant they were missing within their own country or were trafficked. If it was the latter, no trafficker would allow Bambietta to go free without killing her, and it couldn't be the former. Ultimately, she was granted Japanese Citizenship as a Jane Doe, later changed to Bambietta no-last-name.
The Nurse volunteered to teach the young girl Japanese so she could find her footing. This was going to be a while, even with her uncanny ability to quickly pick up the language, which worked out well because they had to wait for one of the few orphanages in Japan that also spoke English to have space available for her. A long time had passed, and the amnesiac felt lonely. She asked the nurse to leave the door open so she could see all the weird and colorful people who passed by regularly.
And three weeks after she first woke up, Bambietta had an unexpected visitor. A little girl who was passing by had looked into the room, saw the girl and the bed, and stopped in a stare. Bambietta took in her features. She had brilliant red and orange hair and owl-like eyes. And behind those eyes was a kindness not even the nurse could match.
"Woah," The girl standing outside said, "You're pretty."
Bambi, having been caught off guard, blushed. "Uhhh, th-thank you? Y-You too?" She wasn't being insincere; the flaming girl also looked pretty.
The girl stepped into the room. "My name's Yumeko Rengoku. What's your name?" The girl beamed at the other girl.
"Uh, Bambietta? I mean, that's what I'm calling myself since I don't remember anything else." Bambi let out in a quiet voice, "You can call me Bambi if you want."
The flame head's face suddenly went blank. "I see. I apologize if I sounded in-sen-sitive, Bambi-chan. I guess that's why you're here. I'm here for my checkups and to see my aunt, who's getting a new leg soon."
Bambietta didn't understand every word but understood most of it. "Why does she need a new leg?"
Yumeko looked at Bambi for a moment. "Oh, my aunt got into a fight with some demon and lost one of her limbs. She was given a peg leg while a new leg was being built for her. She's actually going to get it put in in a couple of days. Although father did say something about needing 'prep work,' whatever that is."
Bambietta was confused by all the words she didn't know. What was a demon? An older male voice called from within the hallways. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't entirely quiet, either. "Yumeko, where did you run off to?" The voice called. The sounds of shushing could be heard. "Sorry."
"In here, father, the room with the open door," Yumeko called back.
An older man, who bore a striking resemblance to Yumeko, walked around the corner and stood outside of the room. "There you are; your doctor was worried when you didn't show up."
Yumeko looked down in shame. "Sorry, father."
The man sighed. "Just go to your checkup." The girl nodded and ran off.
The man looked at Bambietta curiously. 'She has spiritual power, a considerable amount of it, definitely not on par with Kisuke or Yourichi, but certainly more than me. But more than that,' He paused as he walked up to the young girl and inspected her from many angles. The intrusive exam freaked out the amnesiac. 'She seems to have the potential to be a demon slayer and not just an average one.'
"Do you have any home to go to?" Zentaro asked after straightening out.
Bambietta looked away for a moment before shaking her head.
Zentaro frowned. "I see. Would you be willing to take a space in my home? I'm fully certified to foster children."
"Uhhh, I'm sorry, I don't have a good understanding of Japanese yet. In English?" The girl asked timidly.
"Ah, forgive me." The Hashira repeated himself in English. 'Looks like those English lessons are paying off. Thank you, Father, for insisting I learn a second language.'
"Uh, will Yumeko be there?" Bambietta asked. She wanted to talk more with the pretty girl.
"Of course. And if you want, I can even ensure you are in the same classes in school." Zentaro offered.
Bambi thought about it for a moment before nodding her head. Zentaro beamed. "Excellent. I will go talk with your nurse."
"Bambi, it's time for your lessons…" The nurse said as she walked in, pausing once she saw Zentaro.
"L-Lord Rengoku." The Nurse stammered. "What an honor."
"Ah, just who I wanted to see," Zentaro said. "I wish to take this young lady into my home, as she has nowhere else. May I speak with you and whoever her case manager is?"
The nurse stammered for a moment. "Y-yes, sir." She turned to Bambietta. "Excuse us for a bit; I'll be in later for your lessons."
"Okay," Bambietta said. "Could you put on 101 Dalmations again? That was fun."
The nurse nodded. "Of course I can."
Meanwhile, in a hidden realm within the soul society. A woman with two antenna-like hairs poking out was watching the feed that was tracking Bambietta's every move. "Oh, Bambi-wambi, why couldn't you look at me like that?" The necrophiliac was jealous of the flame head who had captured the de-aged former sternritter's attention.
"Why are you wasting time on this, Gigi?" A strong and powerful voice called out. Gizelle turned and gave a side eye to Candice Catnipp. "We have better things to do, like training for the upcoming war with the Shinigami." The greentte reasoned.
"Why is it any of your business what I do with my free time?" The Zombie asked in a cold tone. The thunderbolt fought the urge to shiver. When did Gizelle start to sound so scary?
"I… it's just… what is the point of watching her? Nothing in her life is going to be that interesting." Candice pointed out.
"You wanna bet on that? Because I can believe Bambi will find herself in trouble later." Gizelle said in a flat tone.
"What are you wagering?" Candice asked, intrigued.
"The right to kill a captain. If one of us corners a captain in the upcoming campaign, then the one who wins the bet gets to kill them and claim the glory." The zombie proposed.
Candice thought for a moment. "I'll agree if I can set the time limit. Three years from now is the time limit, an entire two years before the invasion. If nothing interesting happens in that time, then I win. If something does, then you win. Deal?"
"Deal," Giselle said with a smirk. "I'll be sure to record it all to humiliate you later."
"Heh, fat chance, 'cause I'm gonna win," Candice said confidently. "Oh, and by interesting, I mean actually interesting. Being hit by a car or being killed by the average hollow doesn't count."
The zombie tisked but nodded her head. She could live with those terms.
It was time. Michikatsu could feel his chain eroding painfully. If he had to estimate, he had maybe 24 hours before the chain disappeared completely. But he had no desire to lose his humanity a second time, so he would let go before that. But, before he could go, he needed to say a last few words to Ichigo. And for that, he would wait a few more hours.
When Ichigo finally arrived, he looked determined. "I think I've almost got the fifteenth form down. Are we going to practice that today, or will we do the Sixteenth form?"
"Ichigo…" The former Uppermoon stared, "How long have I been teaching you?"
"Uh, about three… months." Ichigo began, his jaw dropping. "No…"
"Unfortunately, it has reached my time. I genuinely wish I could spend a few more weeks both to help you and to help soothe my soul of just a fraction of my sins. But it is now time that I walk into hell with my head held high." The demon said.
"But you can't…" Ichigo called out frantically, "You helped me so much and are such a nice person."
The six-eyed demon gave a small, sad smile. "It is joyous to hear you say that, but a few months of good deeds cannot overcome four and a half centuries of misdeeds. One way or another, this all had to end with me walking into hell. However, I know how I want it to end." He pulled a blade from his arm. "Now, show me you're worthy of my time."
Ichigo's eyes widened as he quickly pulled out his training katana and filled it with spiritual energy, which Kenji taught him the basics of manipulating, and met the demon's blade. For thirty minutes, the two traded blows. Michikatsu never went all out, but that was the point. He was gauging Ichigo's capabilities, and he was solidly impressed.
'You are more than ready,' the Uppermoon thought to himself as he created a nearly unnoticeable opening in his defenses for Ichigo to use. Most wouldn't ever see it, but Ichigo did, and his hands moved faster than his thoughts did because, in a final strike, Ichigo broke off the last chain, leaving on the plate. His eyes widened in shock when Michikatsu fell to the ground in enormous pain, clutching his chest. 'Just have to hold on for a few minutes more.'
"Why the hell did you let me do that?!" Ichigo screamed out in rage.
"Because I needed to meet my end at the hands of a demon slayer. To make up for one of my many crimes. And because, if I indeed went all out, you would have never overcome me, leaving you with the belief that you were a failure." The demon breathed out, the pain increasing enormously. "You are ready to take the final selection in two months' time."
"I… I…" Ichigo didn't know what to say. "Wait, what about the rest of the art of Moon Breathing? I still haven't learned everything."
Michikatsu smiled. "Do not worry; your path has yet to end. When you were busy with schoolwork, I, with the assistance of Kenji Shiba, transcribed three copies of my techniques, both for you and for potential future demon slayers. Now, I have one last request for you." Ichigo gave him his full attention. "See to it that you witness the downfall of Muzan Kibutsuji, one way or another."
"I… I will." Ichigo swore it.
"Thank you." A moment passed, and the ground started to rumble. From behind Koukoshibo, an elaborately decorated door with two skeletons rose from the ground.
"What is that?" Ichigo breathed out.
"Those are the Gates of Hell." Kenji's voice called out as he stepped from around a tree. "When one has committed unforgivable sins in life, they go to hell to serve out punishment for however long their sentence is. I have no doubt that the former Uppermoon One is looking at a sentence of at least two millennia."
"So you were watching." The demon said. "I should have expected that."
The door opened wide and sat there. Nothing was happening.
"Is it… supposed to do something?" Ichigo asked.
Michikatsu shook his head. "I think it just wants me to walk in." He turned back to his student and bowed to the ground, forehead touching the soil. "Thank you for the opportunity of letting me teach you." He raised himself back up, turned around, and entered the gate. The moment he was through, the gate slammed shut with a mighty thud and sunk back into the ground.
"No, thank you," Ichigo said in a quiet voice. But Michiktsu couldn't hear him anymore.
So ends a legend. How sad, how tragic. Boo Hoo. Anyway, in the time since I updated, major things have happened. My father has moved houses, and my mother is trying to figure out what she's doing before her apartment lease is up. Two roommates my father let live in the basement are leaving at the beginning of February, and soon, I'll be the only one in this house. The place is a lot quieter without seven other people in said house. And until my mother moves back into the place, it'll probably remain quiet as she wants to split custody of my siblings with my father.
Why didn't I go with my father? One, my dog is buried here. Two, I like this house more as it's the house I grew up in. And three, there was literally no more space left for me at the other place as all the bedrooms were occupied, and I ain't going back to sharing my room with my brother. On the bright side, this house has a lesser chance of being targeted by robbers so long as somebody is living here.