Hey Guys, here is the latest chapter.

Chapter 2

Hanataro was having lunch with his friends, Kira, Rukia, Hinamori and Renji. It was not the greatest dream in the world but Hanataro learned a long time ago to appreciate the small things in life.

As he imagined basking in the sunlight and listening to one of Renji's awful jokes he felt something cold on his hand. He blinked down to see a strange black substance pooling around him, cold and sticky like glue.

His heart raced as he realised what that meant. He glanced to his friends, warning them to run, but they were gone; vanished into thin air. His surroundings changed, he was no longer at the academy garden on a sunny day, he was in a black pit that stretched to infinity. Webs of strange black resin rose from the ground like funeral pyres and bodies of people he never met trapped in black resin moaning in pain.

No, Hanataro trembled, not again. He turned slowly to face what he knew to be behind him, ready for what would come next.

He gazed into the face of a creature larger than any mountain imaginable. Its body sleek and serpentine and black as the darkness surrounded them.

It let out an ear piercing shriek.

0o0o0o

Hanataro jolted out of bed, panting heavily. As expected his pyjamas were drenched in sweat. The young Shinigami cursed, something that was out of character for him, but he did it nonetheless.

He slipped out of the sheets and tiptoed around the dozens of textbooks and notes that littered the floor. He sighed as he reached for drawers for a new set of sleepwear, of which he has an ample supply.

This has been happening for months, he sulked. And it's getting worse.

Hanataro was a nice boy if not slightly dopey, anyone who knew him longer than ten minutes would testify to that. He dreamed of pleasant things. He was timid, quiet, unfailingly polite and enjoyed the company of those he considered friends. Nothing should seem out of the ordinary.

However, Hanataro's sleep was becoming more restless with each passing night. His thoughts were interrupted by a shadowy creature hissing and spitting, turning dreams into nightmares. My Zanpakutō, something I never thought possible. Hanataro's thoughts were interrupted by an insistent ticking.

The young Shinigami looked at the clock and groaned. It was five in the morning and he only had four hours sleep. What he would not give for another hour, but the books containing ample homework glared at him from his desk. After a moment of gazing longingly at his bed, he clicked on a light and went back to study, doing his best to ignore the hissing and growling coming from the sword that lay in the corner.

0o0o0o

A Shinigami communing with its Zanpakutō is not an easy task. The rule is that a Shinigami must search within himself to find his spirit. One must quiet the mind, solidify his will and gather his strength; only then will the Shinigami have a chance to actually hear their Zanpakutō calling them.

Having the strength to bring out your Zanpakutō is another thing altogether, requiring the kind of iron resolve rarely seen. There is a reason why the seated officers in a division rarely change over several centuries, and captains are the cornerstones of Seretei history. It normally takes years, decades and even centuries to reach such a level.

Hanataro's sword however, was nowhere near that patient. Apparently Hanataro possessed a 'lively sword'. It's very rare but not unheard of; having a term for it was evidence enough. Only the most powerful of Zanpakutō are of such a calibre, and it is also an alleged sign of a prodigy.

An example is Hyorinmaru, Zanpakutō of Hitsyuga Tōshirō. Or even Ichimaru Gin's famed Shinso.

However, with that power comes strings. Fame is one of them. The teachers were now expecting nothing less than great things from their newly groomed prodigy. They were making him take more classes, take more courses, and mark him more harshly. Hanatarō was being worked to the bone.

0o0o0o

It was not just a matter of ability. There was a certain amount of pride coming into play. The instructors have a vested interest in their students. A prodigy comes along once every century or so and the opportunity to teach one is too good to pass up. The reputation of teaching one is worth its weight in gold. With it comes respect and privileges. With it comes tenure and immortality.

The teachers who instructed Ichimaru Gin and Hitsugaya Tōshirō wore their fame like a badge of honor, as if they were the ones responsible for making the prodigies captains of the Gotei 13 in the first place. They took the opportunity to rub it in all the other instructors' faces. Well those instructors had their time in the sun, now it was someone else's turn.

Ōnabara Gengorō is one of those people. He missed the opportunity to teach the current captains of squad 3 and 10, he was not going to miss the chance to teach the next captain. He would be dammed if he was going to all the 'tenured' instructors grab a hold of him, he decided to share Hanataro's new Zanpakutō with some of the other lesser known instructors. They seized the chance.

The day after the incident with Ōnabara, Hanataro's other instructors began to pay attention to him. The week after, all the instructors were starting to notice him, encouraging him to take classes that he never heard of all beginning with the word 'Advanced' in their title. These 'polite suggestions' were not suggestions in the slightest. They were commands.

Yamada Hanatarō was going to be their star pupil even if it killed him.

The stress of studying until late in the night, looks of derision of envious classmates and the pressure of being expected to succeed was mind racking. Add that on top of a Zanpakutō which would not sit still and leaked reiatsu like a tidal wave and you end up with a sleep deprived and stressed out young man.

What Yamada Hanatarō wouldn't have given to have been a nobody; one of the faceless students in the Academy. At least he would not have to deal with the looks and the bullying. Sadly he has to deal with the sword he has been given.

0o0o0o

Hanataro stopped studying when the sun dawned. After a quick stretch he had a showered and prepared to head off to the academy. He was about to head out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hold up Hanataro, you forgetting something?" The young Shinigami turned to face a young man, who was slightly older than him.

"Oh morning Seinosuke-neesan," the Shinigami smiled, "I forgot something?"

"I'll say you did." The eldest smirked. "Breakfast. A good meal to get the brain working."

"Oh thank you Seinosuke-neesan," Hanataro smiled, "but I have to head to….class…" Any explanation was cut off by a chilling sensation. Then Seinosuke used that voice.

"Hanataro-chan, why don't you eat something?" Seinosuke was not asking and Hanataro was not stupid enough to guess otherwise. "Y-yes, Seinosuke-neesan." Hanataro sweat dropped.

"Lovely." And like that, the chilling feeling of death vanished. Seinosuke steered the still shaking Hanataro back into the house to the kitchen. What greeted Yamada the younger was a pleasant table filled with a variety of different foods.

Pancakes, rice, miso, bacon, sausages, it was a buffet. "Ah! Neesan I can't eat all this!"

"You don't have to." Seinosuke patted him gently. "But you have not been eating right, so as eldest it is my job to fatten you up. Now eat up. You have a big day."

Hanataro sat down and began eating with his brother. Although they said nothing, the young Yamada could feel the intensity of Seinosuke's hidden gaze.

Seinosuke was lieutenant of 4th Division under Unohana Retsu, a gentle captain but was not one to trifle with. After years of service, Hanataro's brother picked up many things, including how to say things in a 'pleasant but will hurt you if you don't listen' tone.

The reason for his resignation from the 4th was not explicitly stated but Hanataro suspected that it was because of his Zampakuto. Powerful Zampakuto's are rare and prized, but can be dangerous. If not controlled carefully, they could overwhelm their wielder. At best they would be injured, at worst killed.

Before his Zanpakutō started brazenly trying to grab his attention, Hanataro could barely remember when his brother was around. They were like strangers for many years. Ever since Seinosuke retired from the Gotei 13, he has looked after Hanataro like a fussy mother. If anything, Hanataro was grateful to his Zanpakutō, the monster that haunted his dreams, for giving him back his brother.

"How have you been sleeping?" Seinosuke question was so loaded it made one wonder why he bothered to ask.

"Not well." Hanataro mumbled with bacon in his mouth. "My Zanpakutō is appearing more quickly now. It's opted for shrieking rather than hissing now."

"Hmm. Rather vocal." Seinosuke pondered. "Have you tried to converse with it?"

"No." Hanataro was surprised at how quickly he responded, it was almost like was snapping. He slightly bowed in apology, one which was accepted.

"Why not?" Seinosuke raised a brow.

"…." The young Yamada seemed very focused on eating the pancakes, hoping the conversation would stop there.

"Come one Hanataro-neechan, it's a simple question, you can tell me." Seinosuke soothed. "I won't judge, I promise."

"…it scares me." Hanataro shivered at the memory of the giant thing that towered over him.

"There is a certain wisdom in being afraid of your own power." Seinosuke smiled warmly. "But you are a part of him, and he-"

"She."

Seinosuke blinked. "Excuse me?"

"My Zanpakutō is not a he. It is a she." Hanataro explained taking a sip of orange juice. "I can say that with certainty."

"Oh really?" Seinosuke raised his eyebrows. "Well at least you are making progress. But Hanataro, you can't keep her locked up forever, and you definitely can't ignore her. It's not to your benefit, not to mention it is just flat out rude."

"But neesan," Hanataro whined, "she's terrifying, I can't even describe it…I just wish I could show you…I think you would understand then."

"Even if you could, I wouldn't want to." Seinosuke shook his head. "This journey is your own, all of us, your instructors, your friends, myself and others; we're just guides. But if you ever want to progress up the ladder, if you want to succeed in the Gotei 13, you will have to stand your ground."

"But I don't want to stand my ground." Hanataro frowned. "I wanted to join the 4th Division like you. But my instructors are moving me away from that field into advanced combat classes."

"The instructors are doing what is best for you." Seinosuke patted his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "They know more about this than anyone else. And if I may be frank from what I have heard, your Zanpakutō may not a sword designed for healing."

"I know, it's just…" Hanataro mumbled, "it's just I never expected my Zanpakutō to look like that. It seems, so unlike me. All I wanted to be was a medic."

"Our swords are a reflection of what is inside our soul." Seinosuke reflected on the first principles of Zanpakutō. "Yamada's are known for their hidden depths. It will make sense in time."

"I hope so." Hanataro chanced to look at the clock and let out a small 'eep'. "Ahh! I'm late, I have to run Seinosuke-neesan! Thanks for breakfast!" Hanataro ran his way out the door dragging his backpack behind him.

He did not hear the sound of his brother chuckling as he cleaned up the kitchen.

0o0o0o

Gengorō glared at the late entrant to his Advanced Zanjutsu class. It was not what was done, it was who did it.

"Yamada Hanatarō!" The sensei bellowed. "What do you think this is? A vacation?! Get your ass over here, front and centre!"

"Agh! Sorry sensei!" Hanatarō stumbled forward dropping several heavy books loudly to the floor. The snickers he received from the older and far better Academy graduates made him wish the floor split and swallowed him whole.

"About time." The sensei grumbled. "We have just finished the basic exercises. You have the honor of having the first bout."

"Whaaaa-" The puny Shinigami paled. He just got assigned to this class, he has not even been able to call out his Zanpakutō, and they were expecting him to fight?! Advanced Zanjutsu used your actual swords, the people in this class already know their Zanpakutō's names and most have already been able to call them out. How the hell was he expected to fight that?!

"No buts." Gengorō shoved him into the centre of a small ring. "Katakura Asuka, you're in."

Hanatarō turned to face his opponent and immediately wished he hadn't. A handsome young man with flowing black hair towered over the Hanatarō's tiny frame. I am so dead, he silently wept. Apparently many people shared the same conclusion. "Kick his ass back to dunce class Asuka!" Hanataro heard on student call out.

"H-h-Hi." The Shinigami 'eep'ed. Asuka's retained his frown but nodded all the same.

"You know the rules. Zamapakutou's can be released and you can use low level kido. But keep it non-lethal." Gengorō stepped back to join the students that looked on. "Begin."

Asuka immediately drew his sword. "Drown Out, Katakage!" His Zanpakutō morphed and stretched, the blade forked into two distinct prongs near the sword's hilt. Hanataro could feel a strange humming emanating from the Zanpakutō, like a tuning fork.

I want to go home. Hanatarō cursed his luck. But unfortunately he could not go home, not without having his ass handed to him on a silver platter. The Shinigami reluctantly drew his sword, his hand comfortably fit around the glossy hilt.

Asuka took it as a signal and charged and brought the sword careening over Hanatarō own head. The smaller Shinigami reflexively brought his sword into a guard. Both swords clashed and for the younger Yamada, it felt as if the sky itself was crashing down on him. A strange ringing echoed in his ears as Asuka's sword rang like pain-inducing tuning fork.

But then he heard nothing. Sensed nothing. Rather than a large crash of metal against metal there was silence. Hanatarō dared to look back into his opponents eyes. Asuka took his confusion as a sign of victory, a mischievous smile on his face.

They parted swords and stepped back into their guard positions. But Hanatarō was confused, he felt odd. He could see, that much was clear. But he couldn't hear, he couldn't feel, he couldn't taste…

"Sensory deprivation…?" Hanataro whispered to himself, but it felt wrong as if his tongue was going numb. He felt the words leave his mouth, but he could not hear it. Asuka nodded in acknowledgement but when he spoke no words came out.

Hanatarō was too busy trying to compensate for his dulling senses. A dull throbbing in Hanatarō's ears deafened him to any stimuli and made him dizzy. No matter how hard he gripped he could not feel the sword in his hands. He saw a small cut along his wrist, but he could not feel the pain. Uh-oh. This could be a problem. Zanpakutō that specialise in sensory alteration were the strangest and most unique kind of sword. The people who wield them, while not necessarily powerful, were terrifying fighters to behold. Even altering any of the five senses slightly can provide them with a huge advantage. Judging from the effects; Asuka's seems to negate hearing, smell, taste and most importantly, touch. And I have no idea what my Zanpakutō can do, Hanatarō murmured to himself.

He noticed a flicker of movement and saw Asuka coming in again for another attack, he brought his sword to protect himself. The senior student quickly rose his strange sword over his preparing to finish him off. Hanataro was almost tempted to let him judging from the effects, he would not feel it. At the same time he was not crazy or timid enough to find out. The Yamada brought his sword into a defensive neutral posture.

It was only when the sword was directly in front of his eyes did he notice something off with his blade. He could see a viscous light green liquid emanating from his Zanpakutō, it was so subtle Hanataro might have dismissed it as a trick of light but it was there.

Then he noticed Asuka's sword was a few inches from hitting his shoulder. AGH! Hantaro jerked his Zanpakutō to the side redirecting Asuka's attack. The effect was instantaneous.

Sound flood his ears, smell and taste flooded his nositrils and tongue and touch emanated from his skin. It hurt. Hanataro stared down at the wound on his hand, it was still bleeding only now he could feel it. What happened? Hanataro thought. Does his Zanpakutō's effect reset or disable on every alternate touch?

But that did not seem to be the case. If the faces of their 'audience' was anything to go by, this does not happen. The students looked with mixture of confusion and surprise. Gengorō looked on with keen interest, his mind analysing what occurred. Hanataro dared to look at his opponent.

His opponent was not looking back. Asuka was more focussed on his Zanpakutō and for good reason.

It was beginning to melt.

"Katakage!" He cried watching as one of the 'forks' began to melt away with eerie hissing. The throbbing humming withered and finally sputtered into silence. Asuka looked on in horror as his Zanpakutō reverted back to a simple albeit malformed blade.

Asuka after staring at his broken blade for what seemed like minutes, turned his eyes settle on Hanataro and his strange sword. "You…"

Asuka slowly placed his sword on the ground near the edge of the small ring, never once taking his eyes off his opponent. Hanataro was slightly overwhelmed by the stares of his 'classmates', they weren't poking fun or sniggering; they were analysing him.

"I-…I…sorry." Hanatarō squeaked.

"I can see why you were put into our class." Asuka mused. "I underestimated you. It won't happen again." The Yamada was put off by Asuka's look; there was not anger per se, but surprise and humiliation, and what's more: curiosity. It felt odd to be taken so seriously.

"Let's see you try this." Asuka shot his hands forward. "Bakudō Number 4: Hainawa." A crackling yellow rope shot out of his hands like lightening zigzagging in a thousand different directions, too fast for Hanataro to track. The energy snaked around his arms and body wrapping around his body like a hungry snake, trapping him and his Zamapkutou.

"Oh…damnit…" Hanataro coughed, as he felt the energy coils clamp down on his chest, suffocating him.

"Kick his ass Asuka!" A student called out.

Oh what I wouldn't give for that guy to shut up! Hanataro grunted, trying to dislodge himself. But the more he pushed the tighter it became, he could feel his ribs crush beneath the kido's strength. I need a miracle.

Then he heard a hissing sound, hot steam erupted around him. For a terrifying thought, he thought Asuka had hit him with another kido. But instead he felt his bonds loosen. He looked down to the source. Only to see his Zamapakutou, the green liquid oozed from the blade making contact with the reishi bonds melting them away. The kido hit the floor like a pile of dead snakes writhing and hissing. The speed at which the kido broke apart was frightening to the naked eye; Hanataro could feel the kido ebb and finally fall apart into nothing in a matter of seconds.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Hanataro stood in the centre of the ring holding his sword timidly. Asuka and his colleagues, students who have trained for many months or years, stared gobsmacked. That little runt broke through a kido, not just any kido but Asuka's speciality kido.

The Yamada was shocked himself, he never expected to get out of it. But he did, or to be more precise his Zanpakutō did. The green like ooze dripped around his hands and fell to the floor, scarring the very ground in quiet fizzling.

"…I think that's enough." Their instructor finally interrupted. "Yamada, you win the bout. Asuka, I suggest you get your Zanpakutō looked at. Take it to the 12th Division immediately."

Asuka nodded gingerly but he did not take his eyes off Hanatarō's Zanpakutō. The elder Shinigami looked at the sword with confusion and dare it be said; fear. The sword melted his Zanpakutō and his kido. He has never heard of an ability like that. No one has.

Gengorō kept his facial expression carefully neutral, but deep down he was cheering. He knew it. He will admit that his faith wavered briefly, but now he just confirmed what he already knew. Hanatarō does not even know his sword's name but he managed to subconsciously call it out. But if his Zanpakutō could do that in its sealed state, imagine what it could do if it was released.

Yamada's Zanpakutō was mighty, which meant the wielder itself was mighty; short stature be dammed.

Yamada is a star.

His star.

Now all he had to do was convince Hanatarō to call it out.