Hey All,

Happy new year! Here's a new chapter.

Please note for the purposes of the story, this chapter is taking place several months (to a year later). Effectively I'm trying to line up the story with canon time lines, so this takes place around 50 years or so from when bleach commences (thus around 50 years after the 'Turn back the pendulum' arc. I hope that helps.

With that out of the way; here we go!

Chapter 6

The sun was dawning over the Shin'ō Academy. Only now did the wider Seireitei began to wake up. However, that was not the case for two individuals that were in Academy training ground 31; known colloquially to students as the 'Advanced Kido Grounds'. They have been there since the night before consistently drilling kido.

Yamada Hanatarō was keeling over panting, his training uniform weighed down by sweat and his Zanpakutō's Sōkō haibu jushi. Ever since the Shinigami-in-training revealed to Ōnabara Gengorō his latent ability, every single one of his instructors insist he trains with the stuff on. They called it 'stamina building', Hanatarō called it 'slowly dying'.

"I don't give two shits how you are feeling!" Tachiro Kida bellowed. "Get your ass up!"

He's an annoying little knat. The creature in the dark mused. Perhaps we should teach him a lesson?

No. Hanatarō slowly shifted his weight upright until he stood tall (but shaky).

Are you so sure? Satsujin Dorobō whispered. These so-called teachers have been pushing us around since day one. An example should be made.

You and I both know they are trying to help us.

They are trying to elevate their station. The creature growled. By treading on our coat-tails.

I am not a murderer.

You sound so confident. His Zanpakutō laughed. What is my name again?

The younger Yamada pushed the voice out of his mind. He needed to focus, Tachiro Kida was without a doubt the most unforgiving of all his teachers. However he was arguably the most fair; he trained all his students half way to death, not just Hanatarō. Those students that failed to meet his ridiculously high standards were treated to 'remedial lessons', which was code for 'training until you pass out'.

"Good." Kida spat. "Now do it again."

Hanatarō dared not sigh in frustration, for that would only aggravate his sensei further, he raised his hands forward and began the chant again. "Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name Man! Inferno-"

BONK!

"OW!" Hanatarō rubbed his forehead in pain.

"OF! 'Ye who bears the name of Man'!" Kida fumed, turning an unpleasant shade of red. "How many blasted times have I told you? One word can result in a catastrophic backfire! You want to blow off your own hand?!"

"No" Hanatarō mumbled, the paid fading.

"Then get the incantation right!" Kida bellowed. "I don't care if you are hot shit, Hanatarō. If you are in my class I expect nothing less than perfection, otherwise you'll get another rock to the head!"

But I did not want to be in your class. Hanatarō knew better than to be snarky aloud. Otherwise Tachiro Kida would drill him until all day and probably all night. Dumber (or braver) students learned that the hard way. That was why Hanatarō liked him, despite the rigorous training.

Chief Instructor for Kido, Tachiro Kida maybe merciless. However he was the most fair; he trained all his students half way to death, not just Hanatarō. Those students that failed to meet his ridiculously high standards were treated to 'remedial lessons', which was code for 'training until you either die or pass out'.

That was something Hanatarō wanted to avoid if possible, he's imposed enough on the 4th Division. "Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south!" An orb of crimson red energy generated out of the palm of his hands, Hanatarō could feel the reiatsu flow from his core to the kido building up in his hands. "Hadō #31: Shakkahō!"

The red ball of light shot forward like an arc impacting the target dummy on the other end, engulfing it in small, but nonetheless deadly blast. When the dust cleared, the training dummy was half destroyed .

Despite many hours of training and Hanatarō's exhaustion, he could not help but celebrate. "I did it!"

"About god damn time." Kido rolled his eyes. "We've been training here for the past six hours."

I finally made progress. The student seemed to almost glow with pride. And just in time for my medical class. If I move quickly I should be able to grab a shower and a bite to eat before it starts.

"Where there hell do you think you are going?" Perhaps it was the ominous way that Chief Instructor of Kido said the question, but younger Yamada was frozen in place as he packed up his things.

"Uh….I need to get ready for medical class." Hanatarō realised the moment he spoke, no matter what he said, his response was incorrect.

"Now?" Kido raised a brow. "After it actually hit the target?"

Hanatarō blinked in confusion.

"Hanatarō are you dense?" Kida frowned. "The final examination is in a few months. You are without a doubt the worst in my class, and you think now is the best time to leave? After you have made your first ounce of progress in months?"

"But-"

"Shakkahō is one of the fundamental kidos for any Shinigami, prodigal or otherwise." The instructor spat. "It is not a question of 'if' it is on the test, but rather how impressive your technique is. You have demonstrated you are not completely useless, now we have to consolidate."

"But sir, I have to head off to my classes." Hanatarō mustered up an excuse. "I'm falling behind in my medical kido and Seireitei legal course."

And like that the temperature changed. Kida looked at Hanatarō, and Hanatarō looked at Kida. Uh oh, I've made a mistake.

"Nice try, Hanatarō." Kida looked the exact opposite of impressed but to be fair, the younger Yamada was sure the kido instructor was cursed with 'resting bitch face'. "I've already had a chat with your other instructors. You are on top of everything…exceptfor my kido class."

Uh-oh. Hanatarō's heart sunk as he saw Tachiro Kida's face brighten into a smile, but it was the kind of smile that Captain Unohana Retsu would use. "You know what I think, Yamada Hanatarō? I think you need some remedial lessons. So I hope you like training Yamada Hanatarō." Kida smirked. "Because I love it."

Hanatarō used every ounce of willpower not to collapse in both dread and fatigue. Oh by the Soul King, Hanatarō panicked, why me?!

"And put on another layer of that Sōkō-whatever." Kida commanded. "If you can lie to me, you clearly have enough energy to keep going. Now get your ass back on the line! I want to see perfect hits from now on!"

The creature laughed. Are you sure you don't want to kill him?

0o0o0o

"Well…" The 4th Division Captain sat down in her office. "This certainly is a surprise."

"I'm glad I can still surprise," Yamada Seinosuke took a seat opposite her, "a legendary Captain such as yourself."

"Oh bite your tongue." Capitan Unohana spoke with mirth in her voice. "Still ever the snark, are we?"

"I aim to please." Seinosuke bowed half mockingly. "I am grateful that you made time for me Captain. I know how busy you are."

"Busier now that you have left." The captain jabbed. "Your rather sudden departure left quite knowledge gap."

"Not going to try can convince me to re-enlist?" The older Yamada raised a brow.

"Oh please." Unohana waved away the obvious trap. "You would not accepted it. And I would not insult you by offering."

"Touche." Both Captain and (former) lieutentant chuckled.

"Glad to see you have not changed." Retsu smiled. "Not that I don't enjoy your company, I take it there's a reason you've come to visit."

"A couple of reasons actually." Seinosuke lost his boyish smirk. "I came to ask a favour. Well two favours actually."

"My, my." The Captain leant forward. "This is quite unexpected."

The elder Yamada met his former Captain's eyes. "I need you to keep an eye on Hanatarō."

"But of course I'll keep an eye on him." Retsu smiled. "His rather unique medical conditions ensures that only I can safely care for him."

"I don't mean just medically." Seinosuke clarified. "I meant I want you to specifically recruit him into the 4th Division."

"Oh?" It was Captain Unohana's turn to raise a brow. "The 4th Division would always welcome another Yamada, but wouldn't that be your brother's choice?"

"You and I know that he always wanted to be in the 4th Division. I presume it is because he wanted to be closer to me." Seinosuke shifted in his seat. "But I think he requires more…constant monitoring."

Captain Unohana knew Seinosuke well to ask her next question. "Something bothering you? Has he lost weight again?"

"No not that, if anything he's is getting bulkier. He does not look it under the uniform but he's leaner. He's changed much over the past several months, not just physically as we both know, but mentally." Seinosuke mused. "He's different."

The 4th Division instantly shifted her warm face into an impassive medical diagnostician. "Symptoms?"

"Nothing definitive. He's less wary, more alert, more resilient. But at the same time he seems…distant, maybe less engaged with reality." Seinosuke paused in thought. "Possible dissociative disorder."

"I have not seen anything like that. Though I do admit it has been a while since he's visited." Retsu settled back in her chair. "I do know that his instructors are drilling him something awful. Could it be brotherly concern?"

"Have you ever known me to be sentimental?" The elder Yamada frowned. "We know that his Zanpakutō is affecting him physically, what about mentally? We both know that some Zanpakutō can be…damaged."

Captain Unohana Retsu paused. "You wouldn't be thinking we have another Sōya Azashiro on our hands…do you?

"I don't know." Seinosuke confessed. "This is why I would appreciate you keeping an eye on him."

"Well of course I am happy to, and I'll do my best." Retsu tested. "However, we both know that other divisions are always eager to snag a prodigal son. You remember Ichimaru Gin? The fight amongst captains was something to behold, and I heard the fight for Hitsugaya Tōshirō was even worse."

Seinosuke's flat expression somehow became more deadpan. "Somehow I doubt other captains would challenge you. Especially the more….enthusiastic ones."

"Don't you trust Captain Mayuri?" The silence was almost palpable, and both Captain and former lieutenant did their absolute best not the burst out in laughter. Retsu allowed the joke to subside. "I promise you I will get him into the 4th Division, and I will keep a close eye on him. Provided of course he still wants to join of course." Seinosuke's head bowed lightly in gratitude. "And your second favour?"

"Well I could use a reference." Seinosuke finally confessed. "I'm looking at a job as a private physician for the Noble Houses."

"Really?" Retsu could not hide her surprise. "I did not figure you for the slow life. Planning on retiring early?"

"Nothing so grandiose." Seinosuke smirked, mischievous and plotting. "I just think it is time to torment some nobles." Both medics chuckled aloud.

0o0o0o

The moon was on the rise as Yamada Hanatarō slowly trudged through the Shin'ō Academy barracks. Now normally the younger Yamada would go back home where his brother Seinosuke was undoubtedly waiting for him. However, the young Yamada was so utterly tired and worn out that it was a virtual certainty that he would collapse halfway home.

Rather than risk passing out and left vulnerable in the middle of a street (something the 12th Division Captain was probably hoping for), Yamada has been regularly checking into the barracks for several weeks. Now normally the Academy is at full capacity and cannot indulge a random student, however being the favourite of several teachers had certain privileges.

Consequently, the Academy always kept a spare bed vacant just for him.

After sending a hell butterfly to his brother telling him not to wait for him, Yamada Hanatarō did not so much walk than limp and crawl his way to the bed. His body was heavy from fatigue, sweat and the black tar like substance emitted from his sword.

"Ugh..." the younger Yamada groaned as he approached the bed, "I swear this training is going to be the death of me." He collapsed on the bed not even bothering to change out of his clothes, with the amount of layers of the resin he would need a crowbar to pry himself out.

It was getting to the point where Hanatarō was genuinely considering giving up the Shinigami life altogether and living as a hermit in the Rukongai. Assuming of course the younger Yamada did not go bankrupt from buying new uniforms. He all but gave up cleaning the black resin off he clothes; assuming he managed to get it off (which was like pulling teeth) it clogged up the plumbing like wet cement.

He slowly undid the cord that held his Zanpakutō and gently placed it onto the katana stand near the bed. Hanatarō was envious; while he was covered in muck and grime, his Zanpakutō looked pristine and unmarred, its glistening black frame barely visible in the night.

"Oh no…" Hanatarō moaned, "I have my medical test tomorrow…." But any panic or stress he might have felt vanished; he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

0o0o0o

But Satsujin Dorobō was still very much awake.

The black sword was impressed with her wielder, he has grown stronger; exceptionally so. Over the past few months they have learned a lot about each other; Hanatarō discovered the new and interesting abilities of his Zanpakutō, and the Zanpakutō in turn began to understand the hidden depths of her wielder.

Clearly Yamada Hanatarō was not as weak as she thought.

These irritating instructors have been pushing him to upper edges of his limits and well beyond. But as much as the young Yamada desperately wanted to be left alone, he never quit and he never gave up. He persevered, and even thrived. He was improving in all areas; offense, defence, mobility, Kido, strength and was somehow building on his already impressive intelligence.

Yamada Hanatarō, initially thought to be a whelp, is well on his way to reaching the top of the food chain. But he was not there yet.

That is where Satsujin Dorobō stepped in, as she has previously stepped in every night that Hanatarō had stayed at the Academy.

The Zanpakutō shifted and coiled on the stand, until the hilt and scabbard parted. But the separation did not reveal a blade, instead it revealed a spindly, skeletal finger. Beige in colour, bordering on bone white.

The finger continued to slowly push the hilt further and further away.

And then another finger.

And another.

And another.

Until eight in total wriggled free, pulling the rest of its body with it.

It was larger than one would expect considering the size of the scabbard, it was around the size of a cat. Some would call it a freakishly large spider, others might call it a pair of skeletal hands fused together, with a spine-like tail. It crawled along the ground with its eight-finger like legs rapidly, Shifting its weight back and forward, attempting to get the lay of its new surroundings.

It was not the first time something like this had happened, and as many in Seireitei will unfortunately come to learn, it will not be the last.

Go, my child. The Zanpakutō's hilt slid back into place, as if nothing ever happened.

The small spindly creature skittered across the floor, its bony digits making the barest of noises. Using its tail it pushed the door slightly ajar and quickly moved across the darkened corridor, and into a world of endless opportunities.

0o0o0o

Thanks all, hope you enjoyed it! I hope you don't mind the short chapter. Next one (whenever that gets published) should take place a little later around the grading.

Sōkō haibu jushi (装甲ハイブ樹脂) - Armoured hive resin

Satsujin dorobō (殺人泥棒) - 'Murderous Thief'

Facehugger – Jaakuna te, yoru no tsubo (邪悪な手、夜の壺) which is based on the latin name for facehuggers - Manumala noxhydria aka 'evil hand, the jar of night'

Review as always!