Unmasked Reunion.

Apparantly the man did recognize him, and even seemed pleased at Mazeura’s arrival, no, return. He still showed his dominance by freeing his servant with a single finger, or at least a bala launched from that single finger. Not that it mattered so long as the child behaved himself. Mazeura had been planning to let him go once he had talked to the man on the throne anyway. The youthful arrancar fell flat on his face, not expecting the sudden drop, and was still getting back to his feet when his master told him to take his sisters and leave. Benecio, as the master had called him, looked between the two stronger arrancar in alarm, which was somewhat comical with his hand still cradling his mouth and nose from the impact of the fall.

“B-but, master Souta-!” Whatever he was about to say, master Souta shut up right away. Not only did he hammer home Mazeura’s point about Benicio protecting Souta from him being absurd, but he basically announced that Mazeura was second in command of the castle, which surprised Benicio almost as much as it did Mazeura himself. He had suspected that he had lived there, but he had no idea he had been anyone that important!

For a moment it looked like the boy was going to say something else, but, probably realizing how incredibly stupid that would be, he decided on a quick obedient nod instead. Then he motioned for his sisters to leave, and followed them, all the time giving Mazeura a look that threatened pain if he tried to threaten them. He had to give the kid props for courage.

When they were finally alone Souta stood up from his throne and walked up to Mazeura. It was a strange feeling, looking down at him and up at him at the same time. Physically speaking Mazeura was easily the taller of the two, but even so Souta’s reiatsu made his look like nothing in comparison. He also had a certain way of carrying himself, a sort of confidence in his gait, as if he knew he was the one in charge. Which, of course, was probably exactly the case.

And finally he was about to tell Mazeura who he had been. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, perhaps to have been the man’s body-guard, or top servant, or even general. He did not expect to be called “son.”

He stood there for several seconds, probably looking very stupid with an expression of utter shock, as he tried to process the information. He was the son, adopted obviously, but still, the son of Souta Suzuki, the Sexta Espada. And this place truly was his home, the castle of his… father.  Memories started flowing into his head. The first time they met. The first time he saw the castle. The training in the menos forest. Yes, he remembered now. He had never quite realized it before, his mind clouded as all hollows tended to be, but Souta was as close to a true father as any of their kind could ask for, and this castle was undoubtedly his home.

“It… is good to be home.” He said a bit hesitantly. As wonderful a moment as this was it was still… disconcerting. He wasn’t really sure what to say. He wasn’t even sure what he felt. Pride? Belonging? Fulfilled? No, not fulfilled, at least not completely. It was more like he had one more piece to the puzzle he was so desperately trying to put together. It still wasn’t complete, but it was a good start.

“If this is my home…” He asked after a moment “Then are there any clothes here I could wear? I had none when I… awoke.” It was a somewhat awkward question, and probably ruined the moment, but he simply couldn’t think of anything else to say. Besides, walking around basically naked was starting to make him feel strange for some reason. 

WC:661

GP:13

Mazeura was not at all sure that anything Souta wore would fit on him. Mazeura was much larger than the Sexta, and looking at what he was wearing it seemed like his own jacket was too small for him to close. That did not bode well for Mazeura’s immediate clothing concerns, but with all the maids and servants he had seen and sensed surely there would be someone who could make his some clothes, right?

“It is… difficult to describe. Without my memories I have nothing to compare this body too, but it does feel… awkward. I keep trying to grab things that are too far away, as if I am used to longer arms, and leaning forward, which shakes my balance. As you said, I suppose I am trying to get used to it.”

Mazeura looked up to realize they had arrived at their destination while he was talking.

WC:150

GP:3

TGP:16

Souta entered the room alone and left Mazeura to find his own way outside within ten minutes. This wasn’t a problem of course, finding an exit would be easy. In fact it would probably take him less than one of the ten minutes he had to get outside, which left him with nine minutes with nothing to do... Well, he was in his own home apparently. Why not explore a bit?

He soon regretted that decision. The castle seemed normal enough at first. He passed a dining room, a few bedrooms, probably for servants, and a room filled with what appeared to be different kinds of games. He was studying a strange table with holes in the corners and the long sides when he heard the sound of women laughing. Curious, he followed the sound down the hall a ways, until he came to a door with what looked like fog leaking out from underneath it. Wondering what on earth could be the source Mazeura casually opened the door, only to be assaulted by a pungent, herbal smell, and the sight of dozens of beautiful women standing and sitting in a white mist, with very few clothes between them. The women of course all turned toward the sound of the door opening, most with very wide smiles, or looks of confusion. A few even managed both. Mazeura for his part stood frozen like a statue as his face quickly went from tan to red, before mechanically closing the door.

Feeling that he did not fully understand what had just happened, Mazeura simply continued exploring, hoping that whatever he found next would take his mind off of what had just happened, or at least be cold so that his face would stop burning. He was not disappointed. When he looked through a cracked door to see a steel cage, and what appeared to be an assortment of whips hanging on the wall, all thoughts of the strange room with the girls left his mind. Blinking twice, Mazeura slowly opened the door to see a room that almost looked like it was meant for torture. In addition to the cage there were several kinds of bonds, hand-cuffs, ropes, a strange bed with shackles and not mattress, and more. There was in fact an assortment of whips, and several other things that looked like they could be painful, as well as some things that Mazeura simply had no idea what they could possibly be for. However, everything seemed to be wrong for actual torture. Most of the hand cuffs were padded, the whips were all rubber, and would probably not hurt a human, much less an arrancar, and the bed, though imposing at first glance, also had straps of rubber for the … “victim” to lay on. Much like the other room, Mazeura’s reaction was to mechanically leave, without touching a single thing, and close the door. He then proceeded to continue walking, not at all sure what he had just seen, but quite certain that he did not want to know.

Seeing sunlight coming through a door at the end of the hall, Mazeura decided it was time for him to actually go outside. Unfortunately the “outside” that lay past the door, wasn’t actually outside the castle, but rather an illustrious courtyard, complete with a huge water fountain, several trees and flowers, and dozens of statues. Dozens of extremely vulgar statues, almost exclusively depicting naked women, often in strange positions and occasionally with men. Mazeura took one good look at the courtyard as a whole and came to a very solid conclusion. His father was a pervert.

Deciding he had had enough exploring, Mazeura jumped straight up in the air, and simply walked past the walls of the castle until he was outside, dropping down to the ground just before Souta walked out and threw him a set of clothes.

The outfit was basic, which was fine with him. A white pair of hakama, a matching sleeveless Kosode, and a pair of black boots with white stripes going down the middle. Mazeura simply put his new clothes on over his chainmail, leaving the Kosode open, and found it to be extremely comfortable. While he was doing that, Souta explained to him that the best way to get used to a new body was to fight with it. Truthfully this was nothing Mazeura didn’t know already, as he had beaten several hollows on his way to the castle. However, saying that they had “truly used” his body in those fights would be a gross exaggeration.

“Thank you for the clothes.” He said while getting ready to punch his father as hard as he could. “They fit perfectly.” The second the words left his mouth Mazeura used sonido to charge Souta, and cocked back his fist for a punch. Of course, he could tell that his miniscule strength would not be enough to impress Souta, let alone hurt him, so he also charged a cero in between his index and middle knuckles, releasing it just as he threw the punch. He knew very well that Souta was too strong for him to defeat, but he intended to draw as much of his father’s blood as possible.

WC:872

GP:17

TGP:33 [claimed]

In the split second in which Mazeura’s cero infused fist was flying through the air, he thought of several possible ways the attack could be countered, from jumping to ducking to grabbing his fist, to reflecting the cero back into his face, he knew there were any number of ways that Souta could stop his attack. Souta throwing his chest forward to meet his fist however, he had not thought of. Only one thing went through his mind as he watched his cero rip and burn the skin from Souta’s chest. “Trap.” But before he could retreat he felt a wrap around his neck as the shorter arrancar threw him like a sack of flower into the air. It only took him a second to get his bearings and form a reiatsu platform to stop his momentum, but in that second he had flown several yards. And Souta hadn’t even been trying. His father really was amazing.

It made the man’s praise all the more flattering. The giant of an arrancar actually blushed when the word “proud” was spoken by his father. He didn’t know what to say. He literally did not know how to respond to the Espada’s praise. Mercifully he didn’t have time to respond anyway before Souta rushed him with an attack of his own. Mazeura had already raised his arms started forming a wall of chains from his wrists when Souta charged him with what was quite literally, his own attack done right. He put threw his chain generating into overdrive as the Sexta closed in, making the barrier as wide as himself and over a foot thick. He felt more than saw the fist melting through the steel like it was butter, and only one thought ran through his mind. “Nope.”

At the last millisecond Mazeura twisted out of the way as Souta’s cero infused fist pierced his barrier completely, and kept going right into where his chest had been, where his shoulder currently was. He roared like an angry beast as the explosion of energy knocked his shoulder clean out of is socket. Using a sonido to retreat, he then used the chains wrapped around his wrist to wrap his entire arm and upper body, creating a cast for his injured shoulder. He didn’t stop there though. With another roar of pain, Mazeura used the chains to put the misplaced joint back where it was supposed to be. It hurt, a lot, but it got the job done. It also left him with a well armored right arm and shoulder, so there was that.

“How… did you do that?” He asked through haggard breaths. He was still recovering from having his shoulder popped out of and right back into joint. Not that he couldn’t fight if he was pressed to, but if he could stall Souta for a few seconds of explanation, he wouldn’t complain. Besides. He really wanted to know how to infuse cero’s into his fists like Souta had done. Maybe he could even do it with his zanpakuto?

WC: 507

GP: 10

“Estelar… Rugido.” Mazeura spoke slowly, reverently, as he repeated the name of his father’s skill. To harness the power of the cero in such a way, to risk being destroyed by it as they used it in tandem with both the heirro and the simplicity of their basic hollow strength to unleash near absolute destruction… truly this was a skill that personified the power of the hollow race. And Souta was going to teach it to him.

He nodded and prepared his stance. He had to prove himself to Souta. Had to prove that he had enough control over his new body to attempt the Estelar Rugido without destroying it. And he would do exactly that. Mazeura reached down and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his zanpakuto, never taking his eyes off of Souta’s ready form as he drew it from its makeshift sheath. Then he threw it up, and grabbed the chain attached to the hilt. Once, twice, three times he spun it around his head before letting go. The scythe sailed through the air in a wide arc, but it was far behind Souta. That was not an accident. When the deadly blade was directly behind his father Mazeura Jerked the chain with all of his might, and then charged. Now Souta had a deadly blade coming at him from behind, and a chain wrapped fist charging from the front. And if this attack failed, he would try something else. Mazeura had plenty of tricks up his sleeves. 

WC: 252

GP: 5

TGP: 15 [claimed]

The maneuver worked perfectly. Except for Souta vanishing at the last second, planting an elbow in Mazeura’s spine, and sending him flying chest first into his own zanpakuto. But other than that it worked perfectly. At least the blade only gone skin deep, and Mazeura wasted no time in grabbing it out of the air before turning to face his father. He was hurt to be sure. His chest was burning, and blood flowed openly from it, staining the clothes he had just been given and leaking onto his chains.

Despite his failure to actually land a hit on Souta, the fight had been a success so far. Mazeura could feel his mind adjusting to his new body, which was the real purpose of their little sparring match to begin with. His movements were becoming more fluid and controlled than they had been at first, so he could at least take pride in that. Souta noticed it too, though he did take time to tell Mazeura exactly how he had screwed up. He was right of course, and Mazeura took his words to heart. It wouldn’t really matter when he was as obviously outclassed as he was now though, but he decided not to say that.

One last attack. Souta wanted one last attack, and he wanted this one to make him bleed. Did Mazeura even have anything that powerful? Sure, he had drawn blood with his cero earlier, when Souta had stood still and taken the full force of the attack by choice. This time he had taken a stance, so that probably wasn’t going to happen. If Mazeura was to have any chance at success, he would have to throw literally everything he had at the Sexta. And he knew exactly how to do it.

Dozens of chains exploded from his belt as he took a stance of his own. He was setting up again, as Souta had just warned him against, but with only his chains moving he was as able to react as he ever was, and even if Souta dodged it would be of little consequence in the long run. This attack would have plenty of risk, but not yet. The chains swirled and cris-crossed around and behind Souta, forming the skeleton of a cave, with Mazeura standing at the entrance, and Souta nearly at the back. There were a lot of gaps in the “walls” of the cave, but none of them were big enough for Souta to fit through, at least without breaking through the chains themselves.

Four things happened over the course of the next second. First, Mazeura threw his zanpakuto, with no chain attached to it this time. For this plan it would only get in his way. As the scythe spun through the air, and no doubt as Souta was preparing to easily counterattack, a light appeared at the back of the cave, and from the bloody chains that made up the rear, a Gran Rey Cero erupted, heading straight for Souta’s back. Third the scythe, just before it actually hit Souta, erupted into a web of chains. Mazeura knew that Souta’s speed would make trying to predict where he would go pointless, and so he simply made as many chains as he could, in as many directions as he could, all aiming to tie his father down, if only for a fraction of a second. And lastly, Mazeura himself charged, using sonido to boost both his speed the power behind his punch, pushing his hierro to the max to minimize the inevitable damage from his own cero. The best case scenario was him putting his fist through Souta’s teeth and using his body to shield himself from the blast. The worst case, and much more likely scenario, was Souta dodging the attack completely and letting Mazeura take his own strongest single attack at full force. No risk no reward.

WC: 650

GP: 13[claimed]