The Okuhami Arc [Final Act]

Mediocrity was not allowed.

“Have you ever read Robert Frost?”, an admittedly baffling question to go to when someone drew their Soul Cutter on you and released their Zanpakuto.  His expression was flat and unflinching, as the already dim light of the room darkened further and then exploded in a brilliant flash of shimmering light!

The sword had evolved, changed, become something more; a finely honed wakizashi that seemed right at home in his grip.  Kizen professed that he was ready, and Tokiyo could see in his eyes that he truly thought he was.  Thought.

But there are moments in every meaningful life where you reach a summit, or in some cases a cliff, that you’ve never seen past in your entire experience.  And there isn’t a single moment in any of the three worlds that can actually prepare you for what that will feel like...to truthfully and earnestly question your resolve.  This was about to be the closest Tokiyo could emulate.

Kizen would either crumple like so many before him, folding in on himself like the mewling foot soldier he like to cover himself with, and promptly die.  Or he would soar far beyond what he thought he had within himself, to a place he had never seen or dared to dream he might actually visit.  Mediocrity was not allowed.

The Captain removed the tie on the sheath at his hip, plucked his Zanpakuto free, and without another word he tossed the scabbard off to the left, skittering and clanking against the tiles, sliding over the floor until it came to rest against a wall.

His Zanpakuto, Karaudo Haretsu, quickly followed suit as he tossed it off to his right, crashing and bounding off the tiles with even greater ruckus than the sheath!

“You are right.  It is something you will have to find locked within yourself, and learn to grasp.  But you must always remember that -you are the one who locked it there-.  That power is yours, just like the power that used to be in that sword over there is mine.  Meaningless metal, housing the most precious commodity in existence: Power.”

A smirk made a brief appearance on the corner of his mouth before fading away just as quickly as it came.  “You know, there are times when my gut tells me I should use the phrase I learned to release my Shikai; the phrase I earned with my training and my meditation.  I don’t need it anymore.  The words are as empty as the metal housing I used them to unlock.  Do you understand?”

A vivid, amethyst, splash of reiatsu billowed out of Tokiyo as his back and upper arms were consumed in silent flames.  And then the flames went out.  Dead.  Dark.  Gone.

He held up his hand, making sure the obvious responses stayed at bay.

“Before you answer, come at me with everything you have.  Hit me as hard as you can possibly muster, with whatever you can think of.  Do not hesitate.”

He lowered his hands and clasped them together at his waist.  He’ll have to prove he’s ready. Mediocrity was not allowed.

Word count // 522 = 10 || 10

Locking his fingers around his blade, his eyes following Tokiyo's every action as he discards his scabbard letting it scrape along the cold floor beneath them before stopping at a nearby wall. "Frost?" he replies quirking an eyebrow. "I've always found Faust more interesting -"Sometimes our doubts keep us from making a choice that involves change.". A pulse of energy begins to spin upwards from within his core, for so long he'd considered his blade it's own entity. Meaningless metal? Is that what a blade becomes to someone who has mastered its secrets? Is this the choice he will have to make to gain the power he seeks?

'Maybe, I should stop trying to force this and just let it happen?' his eyes close over, struggling to recall that brief but recent moment where he felt his fingers grasp her true form. The power has always remained within him, the only thing keeping it locked is fear. Two possible outcomes for his true self appear before him, time slows down, allowing the Tokiyos words to resound within him. His hands rise as if he is about to prepare for an attack, letting his fingers loose the blade falls from his hand; bursting into a spiraled form of light. 'Can you hear me? I know you can, I know that you are listening. You've spent so much time protecting me, so much time training me. As much as it hurts me to admit this, I don't need you to do that anymore. I'm not a child anymore and I'm not the same boy you saved that day.'

Kizen plunges his hand into the stream, willing it into a tight bundle around his fingers. Light from the nearby torches begin to flicker as their essence is pulled away from their home and drawn into her grasp. The ground fills with a small tremor, shaking underneath to vortex like pull of his energy being drawn in and released in a controlled manner. His level of energy appearing entirely different than previously displayed, giving a focused controlled approach instead of just raging outwards. The two forms remain before him, which orb did he chose? Did he even have to make a choice? All of this was her design, this whole game has been her test.

His eyes narrow as he forces the two forms together in front of this manifestation of his blade. Sensing her hand on his shoulder, her soft voice calling out for him to stop and failing to break his resolve. 'Stop it, you're not going to change my mind' his mind and body were locked towards one goal, pulling her free. The rumbling stops briefly, a still and calm moment fills the room - a moment silent enough to hear a pin drop. "Fuhyo Gyanbitto" the drawn in light taking a cylindrical form to charge and release the energy it has drawn into it.

 A controlled, precise stream of superheated energy erupts from the core of the cylinder. Streaking across the room with an incredible and vibrant intensity, slicing through the air and causing distortions in its wake. If dodged it would smash through one of the surrounding vault walls and spread out across the frame - immolating anything in its wake. Shunpoing forward, Kizen's hand would reach out and draw in the fading streams as they hit their flash point. The flash point marking a vibrant flash capable of drawing in enough light to form a blade to strike with. The blade would cross paths with Tokiyo's and pausing for his response, his mind focused on preparing for the oncoming storm. An intense burning pain surges through his hand as the temperature of the room begins to climb, his fingers clasp tightly around it - refusing to let go of her at any cost.  

[638/50]

[12/31]
[updating | gp total was incorrect]
 

Mediocrity was not allowed.

A valiant and flashy display of glitz and power was everything he expected Kizen to bring to bare; he was a member of the Fifth after all.  It just...wasn’t enough.

With a considered raising of his hand, a translucent and very literal wall of energy filled the space between the two Shinigami.  

The brilliant lights exploded and scattered, spilling their energetic innards out and away from them, revealing only Kizen’s blade, wedged into the barrier before him, hopelessly inert.

“That’s good, but it’s about what I expected”,  said with all the dour look and gloom demeanor of a disappointed father.  “Does this help you understand?  Does this explain -anything- at all to you?  Look around us...and tell me what your attack did.  Look around us and explain to me why you are perfectly capable of singing the paint off the walls but incapable of puncturing my barrier?”

The corner of his jaw ground slightly at the thought of what he was asking - at the very idea that this nearly-executed-rogue was being afforded the luxury of being allowed to prepare for a test he knew was coming.  How unlike Tokiyo.  How unlike countless others cut down before they were ready without warning and without quarter.

The only consolation lay within the thought Kizen could never know if it was actually enough until he put it to the test, just like everyone else.

The barrier held firm, rippling slightly as his guest removed the foreign Zanpakuto from its shell.  So, too, did Tokiyo.  “I felt your hands and the energy around them as you approached me.  Does your Zanpakuto burn you as you wield it?  Or are you not protected from its effects?”  The curiosity was genuine, despite the judgmental look he bore.  Kizen had much to answer for; to himself, to his Zanpakuto, to Tokiyo, to...everyone.  But he would never be able to without the full admission of his failure - without truly grasping what the difference was between Kizen and Tokiyo, and the gap between Kizen and his own strength.  One would have to find the other, or he would have to die trying.

Word count // 365 = 7 || 7 (Reset by claim)

[Your attacks are blocked by my barrier]

His attacks had failed, they'd failed to land even a scratch on this mans perfectly trained defense. The easily dodged strike splashed against the walls, scorching them in its wake, but Tokiyo's barrier remained pristine. The look on Tokiyo's face was full of disappointment, the lesson was being heard but not called into action. She refused to listen to him, his fingers flush under the molten kiss of her anger. Their power gap was a lot deeper than he'd previously anticipated, was this man allowing him to stretch his legs before knocking him off them? Or could he just be toying with him?

Listening to Tokiyo's assessment of his attempt, it was clear something was holding Kizen back from that next step. Pulling his blade  back from the barrier, a question about his own blade turning on him came across the room. He normally was protected from her effects,  why was she so resistant? What was she trying to prove with this defiance? His attack had failed, everything he had done so far had  failed. He'd failed his family, he'd failed his division, he'd failed to keep his oath as a Shinigami and chosen a selfish route. Now, he's trying to force something out of the only constant friend, he'd known in life.

Leaping back from where they stood, he remained parallel to his teacher. The blade in his hand, dispersed into fragmented particles that spun upwards and reformed as a small orb in his palm. "I'm afraid..., that's why my blade can't touch you. It's the reason why she's lashing out at me."  he scoffs for a moment, feeling like an idiot for thinking he's been above all this. Deep within his inner world, the spirit within it sat alongside the banks of a lake; her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Kizen's stubbornness always annoyed her, but his  admission of fear piqued her interest. Her brow quirked at the thought, of the boy she taught to bury the fear finally acknowledging it.

'Listen to me, there's a lot left to do and a lot more for you to learn. But, if you're wise you'll remember this. So, please just listen to me. I know you're afraid, but being afraid is okay. Because didn't anyone ever tell you? Fear can be a source of power. It can make you faster and smarter and stronger'  his eyes begin to turn a different shade, a shade of red - the deepest blood red that you could ever lay eyes on. The pulsing form in his hand spirals upward, drawing in the light within the area to form  something around them. The outlines take form, a large bubble, taking grasp around the room. The streams take a life of their own, forming the foundation, as the light falls over Kizen.

The light formed an almost perfect replica of his former home within the walls of this bubble. The source of its power surging and drawing in any stray forms of energy, even the condensed reishi from the walls around them to form this image. Her form appearing at  his side, her breath on the nape of his neck. 'You may not remember this, but I told you once that you were going to come back to this place and on that day you're going to be terrified. But it's okay, because if you're very clever and very strong. Your fear doesn't have to make you cruel, it can make you a better person.' the walls begin to shudder and crack, the ground trembling beneath them; tiles dissipating into energy and being forced into the picture his spirit was trying to paint before him.

'It doesn't matter what has happened to you, or if there's darkness in you. So long as you know it's okay to straddle that line sometimes. So listen to me now, if you listen to nothing else, listen to this. You're always going to be afraid of what you could be, even though you've learned to hide it. Your fear is a part of you; it's a part of you that will always be there. But, that's okay.  Because fear is what brought us together, it's what brought you here now.' The bubble dissipates, leaving a small ring around Kizen, his  eyes still filled with the blood red hue denoting a change in his aura. His hair flickering shades of white, a strain in his reiatsu pulse begins to form. The vibration acting like a slow and steady pull, as if the air of the room had been altered.  A strange power had begun to awaken within Kizen's core, a power that felt like a vacuum to be around.  The slow rumble dies down, the fluctuations of energy, halt as a slow silence fill the room. 'So let go' she whispers, acknowledging her acceptance of his failure.

Opening his hand a new emergence resounds within him, new light being formed in the palm of his hand appearing like a beacon on a dark shore. It's intense, vibrating heat surging from the core of his palm begins to spread outward drawing in traces of stray energy.  His eyes begin to fill a brighter shade of red, fueled by power and a deeper resolve. "What is this?" he asks Tokiyo as the energy causes his hands to shake under the weight of this new power. The burning sensation seems to have dissipated, the molten kiss he'd previously felt seemed to vanish the minute he'd accepted his fear.  'Think about how you feel at this moment, how you felt the moment you saw his eyes. Think about your family, about everything that has been taken from you. Think about the twins, about Jasper and everyone on the board who wants to make you a pawn. You are a king in my world, now it's time to become one in your own.'.

Kizen focuses on her words, letting the power slowly build inside of him.  Stretching out his palm in the general direction of Tokiyo, he asks only one thing of him. "Attack me, I don't know what this is. But I'll never learn its potential playing it safe. I'm ready"

Tapped into Potential Release Activation

[1028/50]

[20/51]

“You’re not ready.”  The words bounded out around them both, almost making the walls quake alongside this strange, new technique of Kizens.  “You never are.  You just become...ready enough.”

It was right there, in front of his face, a growing and changing, a swirling and mixing, of both energy and power within the younger Shinigami’s solar plexus.  What was a stained, dull, steel gray in color bloomed slowly and pushed back against the mirk with a milky yellow, if only at first.  Swifty, it grew...taking shape into a vibrant hue and wavering, teetering, bounding, flopping, in and out like a great pulsating heart inside of him.  But Tokiyo recognized the signs of a faulty battery.

It was merely a facade, trading in fear of the unknown for the bravery of a false confidence.  The Captain of the Sanbantai raised his hand with his pointer and middle finger extended, as a small, red, wisp of reiryoku flickered to life.

In a flash of light and the blink of an eye, the timid ball of harmless air exploded with energy as it grew and grew in intensity and ripped through the space between them!  “Jugeki Byakurai.”  His most understated and underestimated weapon.

Hardly his most devastating trick or attack, the strength of his tactic lay in the simplicity of both the technique and the effort.  He could sling the bolts of star-red energy freely and with both startling accuracy and frightening precision at anyone within line of sight at virtually any distance - and even some ways beyond.  And he didn’t even need to say a word while doing it, having long since completely shed both the burden and the necessity of augmenting that Kido with an incantation.  In just a few, short years Tokiyo had taken one of the most elementary Hado any Academy student could ever draw up and made it into a killing strike that was the envy of the Gotei.  And now is was roaring straight for Kizen’s poor, exposed heart.

The energy that clothed him...would it be enough?  Would his new found ability prove superior to his new found sense of confrontation?  Questions worth exploring, provided the student survived the lesson.

Word count // 367 = 7 || 14

[Signature Move - Jugeki Byakurai coming at your center of mass. We'll saying there's no energy from releases behind this, so it's probably operating ~120 Spirit]

“Good…”, he trailed off, a mixture of confusion and satisfaction.  Had that his the younger Shinigami squarely it would have gone straight through his heart.  Or more specifically, the hole it would have left would have included his heart.  It was a small miracle that Kizen was near enough to the precipes to manifest his Bankai here and now!  But he would need a bigger one, unless his attackers were willing to give him another few years.

A crack of light and the static whirl of Shunpo, and the Captain was near Kizen’s side.  “We don’t have the time for your mastery to develop at its own pace, despite the steps you’ve taken here today.  You don’t have the time.  It takes years of practice and experience for even the most harmless of Zanpakuto.”

His eyes darted about the room, as if bouncing between his options.  “You’ll simply need additional tools at your disposal.”

Tokiyo slowly lowered his hand, wrapping his fingers around Kizen’s wrist as he lifted the arm up closer for inspection.  “And miles to go before you sleep.  Bankai, Buta ni Shinju.”

An explosion of deep, amethyst colored reiatsu well out from the Captain drowning out all other interference around before quickly tightening into whirlpool of reiryoku that was diving into Kizen’s reiatsu, then his wrists, then his very soul.

“You will quickly realize that your Bankai has left you, but I need you to pay close attention to my words - you don’t have long before the pain starts.”  He let go of the wrist, letting it fall to Kizen’s side, while he looked the younger man squarely in the eyes.  “I have denied your physical form the power of your soul.  Your Zanpakuto will no longer answer you, and your heart will continue to pump reiatsu even though it has nowhere to go.  Quietly at first, but quicker than you could ever imagine, your body will begin to burn.  First at your wrists, then moving up your arms.  And you will explode in a terrible display of fire and power if you do not find a way to overcome this, Kizen.”

He stood, the quiet shifting of his feet against the rubble beneath them echoing through the hall.  “You will die here, Shinigami, if you cannot.  Long before those folks chasing you ever get another hand on you, your body will consume itself.  Now get up!  And decide…”

“Do you really want to live, or are you just afraid to die?”

Word count // 418 = 8 || 22

[NOTE: My Bankai has prevented you access to your First and Second Powers]

Tokiyos words blended into action, his hand clasped around Kizen's wrist shortly after appearing at his side. He simply didn't have the decades it would take for Kizen to catch up. The only way to accelerate his development was to show Kizen the reality of the position he was born into. He needed to see the true difference between a mastered bankai and the one he held in his hands. An effortless action, the control of his release was impressive; with the single motion Tokiyo unleashed his influence into the world. The amethyst energy emerged from deep within him as he raised Kizen's arm; letting their eyes meet as he released his arm to his side. The energy spun upward in a controlled, precise whirlpool that cascaded over Kizen's form and left nothing but silence in its wake.  
 
"As if it's that easy to separate us, Can you believe this guy?" reaching into his mind, he calls out for her voice. The silence that follows is the only response he is given. Where had she gone? He'd felt her there only moments before. "This isn't funny, quit playing games with me. Where are you?" Once again, silence is the only response he receives. A small sign of panic begins to appear within his eyes, his reiatsu has been sealed by Tokiyo's release. His own power, had become a point of weakness and could now become the very thing that would destroy him. The pressure begins to slowly rise within his body, the overwhelming power coursing through his veins like a freight train. He'd never properly prepared for this level of energy, it grew more crippling by the moment. 
 
 Slipping into his inner world, the effects of this block begin to create an instability within him. The once lush forest was now crushed under a sea of crumbling rocks, the violent upheaval of the ground beneath it swallowing the memory of what it once was. Snow capped peaks of distant mountains tremble, sending waves of white powder crashing down the mountainside. Dropping to his knees, his blade slips free from his hand crumbling the floor beneath it. The pulsating energy beginning to absorb chunks of the floor beneath him, pushing more energy into his body. The unstable energy, racing within he causes his blood to slowly rise in temperature. "I need you....show me a way out of this" The heat began rising at a slow pace, growing over time till it was near a boiling point.
 
His eyes pulsate with raw untapped power, the energy desperately trying to break free from his body in any way possible. There has to be a way to break this hold, he's come too far for things to end this way. He'd spent most of his life, holding her hand and now he needed to find his own way without her guidance. Part of every rebirth is finding the moment in your previous life, the moment where you know it's okay to let go even if you're alone. Had he seen this moment and simply let it pass by? The next few moments would answer that question.  
 
[WC 522/50]
[GP 10/72]

“I suppose I could have been wrong.  About you, that is” he said with a flat, uncaring distance as the man’s brow began to bead with sweat and panic.

Tokiyo had used this gift so rarely he had almost forgotten how gut wrenching a thing it was to watch another person go through.  Kizen demonstrated all of the classic signs and then some, yet the part of him not lost in reflecting on the moment could not help but be impressed by the speed at which the young Shinigami was progressing through them.  Maybe he was rusty and it simply wasn’t as...effective as he remembered it being?

Any doubts he had about his own potency were quickly passed over with the aid of the painful look growing on this student’s face.  Sure, there were a few, sparsely scattered sadistic bones in the Captain’s old body but they were very rarely touched.  Rarely tapped into.
 

If it wasn’t a sadist’s enjoyment then what would he call it?  Pity?  Possibly.  If nothing else, this one’s literary knowledge had coaxed out his disappointment. “Frost is an author, didn't you know?  Faust is a book.  Your notion of whimsy at likening this experience to a 'Faustian Bargain' was not lost on me but it’s simply…”

He searched for the words, as he idly waved his hand and shrugged.  “Simply wrong.  As I expected, you’re more concerned with your own plight than you actually were with the point, despite what you may be repeating to yourself right now.  Grasping and clawing for answers.”

Tokiyo took a step back, and then another.  There would be no need to get too much Shinigami-goo on his haori when the Curious Case of Kizen Haetora came to its brutal end.  “You actually thought I could just tell you some hogwash and you’d promise your loyalty to me or something equally worthless and then you would what?  You’d be powerful?  Nothing in my world works that way.”
 

He thought carefully, eyeing Kizen up and down as the Shinigami’s skin flushed and burned and the power within him roiled and swelled and begged for some outlet, for some kind of relief.  It was like watching a balloon grow and groan until the seams were so far apart you could almost count them.  “I quoted you Robert Frost so you would have an idea what you were in for.  Hear me now, Kizen, or you will never hear anything else, ever again.”

Their eyes were level now as Tokiyo bent at the knees and lowered himself to intensely study the slouched man opposite him.  “He gives his harness bells a shake, to ask if there is some mistake.  The only other sound's the sweep, of easy wind and downy flake.  The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep.  And miles to go before I sleep,”
 

The cold ring of death itself dwelt there, between his words just then.

“And miles to go before I sleep.”

Word count // 516 = 10 || 32

A blacked sky looms above him, offering no sound, no voices and no hope. The world around him has split open, chasms forming anew while his world washes away. She will never be the answer he wants any more than Tokiyo or the next person will. Power is never given, it's taken. He'd given so much of himself to so many undeserving individuals in the pursuit of power. There were fragments of his existence scattered across time. A fragment taken for every bad choice, for every moment stolen from him and for all the moments that could have been. So much of his life had been seen as a burden, always the tool never the master of his own path. Tokiyo bent down to his level, trying to deliver some parting words before his passing.

The once pristine view that shaped his inner world was collapsing around him; was this really what he wanted when he started down this path? The pain spreads throughout his body, moving across every inch like a brush fire. If he ever wanted to feel whole again, he had to reclaim the pieces of himself he'd lost without her help. The only piece of his world that remains is the ground beneath his feet, the crumbling cliff side that he clings to with all the fear in his heart. Struggling the rise, he forces himself up into a shaky stance; his feet resting at the edge of all that's left with him.

His eyes clench, trying best to shrug off the pain that is trying to force him to his knees again. Somewhere in this sea of light is his power, the part of his spirit he'd tried to regain. Thinking back on the first time he'd grasped his true power, it was like a hole had been filled. The way his body felt, the way his spirit felt; deep within his heart he was whole once more. He never had a childhood, he never got to have a life like everyone around him had. He had a starting point, from which he's never stopped running. He had to stop running, he had to take a chance and see what he was made of. His answer was in oblivion, all he had to do was jump and pray he finds his answer on the other side.

A rapid heart beat fills his ears, his body leaps from the cliff side as the ground is washed away in a sea of white. Falling fast, no one is there to catch him as his body plunges into the white aether that was left of his world. He body thrashes, the final death throw of a desperate man. His body in the outer world is close to exploding, while deep within his soul a struggle is fought. Flashes of memories appear on the solid barrier of energy he's drowning in. His hands smash against it, his pulsing eyes casting a glare against its mirror like surface. Where is she? How could she abandon him like this? Clenched fists rattle against the surface, his eyes meeting his own.

The day had come where she could no longer stand in front of him - to bare his pain, to bare his doubt and shelter him from pain. They could not argue, they could not refuse to speak to each other, they could no longer play it safe. Thinking back, he'd failed to realize just how long she had been carrying the both of them. She'd saved his father, the night his grandfather drew her and attempted to cut him down. The day the bandits returned to his home, she'd called out to him and protected him from sharing his parents' fate. She held his hand the first time he took a life and stood by him when he took lives he did not have to. The memories she'd shared with him, were a gift very few people are given in this life. She held back years of pain to protect him, placing his needs before her own. Even if it cost her happiness, she did it to protect him.

When he was born, the sky was the limit for him. His parents hoped he would become someone special, that he would take control of the family and be someone they would be proud to call their son. He grew up to become exactly the person they'd wanted him to become. When the time came for him to take his place in the world, he did, despite the hardship he faced when he them. But, somewhere along the line Kizen stopped being the person they raised. He started looking for someone to blame for everything he did wrong. If it wasn't his parents not being there, it was the fire or his lack of privilege. His fear mixed with self doubt till it became a huge shadow looming over him. No matter what nonsense came from his mouth, she supported his actions. She stuck by him with a fondness that went beyond a normal spirit's devotion, as if they were family.

She had his mother's eyes, a trait they both shared. Most spirits bond with their wielders during their first years as a Shinigami, growing alongside them in battle and forming a partnership that is rooted in duty and discipline. Kizen's connection with her was rooted in family and tradition, she was born alongside him and was never too far away. She'd told him everything he needed to know to overcome where he is now, she'd told him to embrace his fear and believe in himself. She gave him what he really needed, a way back home. Looking into his own eyes as if he were looking into hers, the once flush indigo color had turned a vibrant teal. The same color his zanpakuto displayed every day they'd been together.

All this time he'd been searching for her, all this time he'd been tearing apart the world for answers. She was always with him, all Tokiyo had done is remove her physical manifestation. But no power, no matter how great can take away part of your soul. His fist touches the surface of the barrier, his eyes glowing with a dull hum of power. A rapid influx of memories spill into mind, from the moment they'd been born, she took on the personification of the things he'd been too afraid to be. Every rule she'd ever placed upon him, every barrier she placed was not to hold him back; they were a warning to prepare him for this moment.

His fist remains pressed against the barrier, pausing for a moment to reflect as he pulls it back.

'She's more than a spirit, more than a piece of metal and empty words. Just because Tokiyo is a shinigami, doesn't mean I have to be like him to find what lies within me.' his fist strikes the barrier.

'She isn't just metal housing.' his fist strikes the barrier again.

'They aren't just words.' striking his fist into the barrier again, his hand leaves a bloody print in its wake.

'She's more than that.' focusing one their time together, the memories of their time together awaken something inside him.

'She's my family' his fist crashes into the barrier causing in to crack under the force.

Pulling his hand back, he continues to strike the cracking barrier. Trusting only in the belief within himself, with every punch the surging energy grew calmer. It was as if he knew that with every strike he was drawing closer to finding her. A hole splits open in the barrier and a small hand slips through revealing a single glowing ball of light in its hand. "What is this?" he asks, reaching towards it. "it's what you've always wanted from me. A way to control me properly, if you take this you will be in control" she replies, unsure of what his next action will be. His hand moved closer to the token, the personification of all the power he'd ever wanted to hold within his grasp. He paused for a moment, thinking about what he should do next. Swinging his hand into hers, he knocked the token from her hand and allowed it to slip into the aether. His hand reached for hers, her breath hastens at his touch.

He winds his arm backwards and slams it into the barrier, causing it to shatter into millions of pieces. The fragments dissolve into the aether that now surrounded them. Her form is slowly rebuilt from energy flowing between them. Their eyes meet as he pulls her within his arms and wraps them around her. 'All this time you've protected me when I should have been protecting you. We're not like the others, we're going to make our own path. The legacy of my family doesn't rest in my hands alone. The true power of our family lies in both of our hearts.' His mind returns to the outer world, his blurred vision focuses allowing Tokiyo to come into view. The once uncontrolled power in his eyes has now drawn to a calm focused flow, his fingers reach out and the handle slides into his grasp. 'You're not a slave, you're all I have left.We can rebuild, one block at a time until our family is safe....Together.' The pain begins to subside, the power that had been collected within him is quietly channeled into the blade. Kizen never says a word as he rises, his eyes remain relaxed and passive."Together." She replies as Kizen closes the distance between the two men, striking at Tokiyo without warning. His strike is controlled and focused as he releases a second quantum cutter.
 
[WC 1619/50]
[GP 32/104]
 

He expected an explosion.  Any explosion.  Something.  A grand pop, bang, boom as Kizen’s soul burst at the seams and every particle of the Shinigami would scatter to the winds in a glorious fire.  Or a great rush of energy, like a dam bursting after a flood and expelling uncountable gallons of water as that which it had held back had finally found a way!

But it was just...quiet.  Unassuming.  Something so simple as this man just turning the faucet on.

The sweat on his brow had stopped beading, the flush on his face was quickly fading, growing lighter from a deep cherry and purple, to a mere flush, and finally back to its normal pallor.  The breathing, once labored and a accompanied with bulging veins and agony, was quickly leveling out.  Just like that, the valve was back on again.

And for the first time, Kizen rose with a purpose in his eyes that had no need for the bullshit and rehearsed excuses he had become so accustomed to telling himself in his fear and doubt.  There was no need for anything but action.  

The leap and the strike were not the stuff of legends.  Pedestrian, or even average?  Maybe.  But what caught the Captain by surprise, what had changed the very tide of the life of the man before him, was the resolve in his eyes.

Nothing is stronger than a blade swung with conviction.

Tokiyo’s shield was up in an instant, effortlessly constructed in barely the time it even took to think the command though.

A brilliant flash of light filled the room and blinded him for only but a moment as the piercing reiatsu of this Quantum Cutter collided with its target.  And soon after, only silence and darkness were left.

Drip

Drip

The barrier had held but there was a clean, thin line of pure white across its surface, from Tokiyo’s shoulder down to almost his knees.

Drip

Drip

“Ready enough,” he said from behind gritted teeth.  He could feel the hot blood running down the inside of his uniform and the tattered edges of his shihakusho clinging to the fresh wound.  Where the student’s limp swing had fallen harmlessly on him before, the difference was now clear.  Clear enough to leave blood running down his chest and arm at a steady trickle.

“That will be enough for today.  I’m sure you’ll want to reflect on this.”  He coughed involuntarily, the wound gushing slightly as his blood pressure spiked.  “And it seems I need a new uniform.”

Kizen wouldn’t be able to keep a pool of blood from a Captain as a trophy for his accomplishment.  Keeping his life in spite of the efforts of those seeking to end it would just have to do.

Word count // 470 = 9 || 41

At first she had been perplexed. The art of watching Fujikagi Tokiyo had been something of an obsession, in the past. It had been a while though, many long months, since she had allowed herself the time and space to pick it back up. As deeply as her anger roiled, as sharp as the blades of betrayal, she had been unable to mute that curiosity as she slunk onto the scene. Kizen was a wanted fugitive and she had followed his trail with the full intent of capturing him for the Captain Commander, but to arrive and see someone else already at her job had been somewhat of a shock. Even more-so when it appeared that Fujikagi was intent on playing with the boy rather than capturing him.

She didn't understand. Not the tired stain of exhaustion in her former Lieutenant's reiatsu nor the plodding nature of their conversation. Why was he even wasting time like this, giving the traitor a chance to do anything at all when such scum deserved nothing but a long and deadly trip to Maggot's Nest? The past swirled between the two, and it was all she could conclude that this story had started earlier, on some unseen plane, because nothing else could excuse the Captain his levity as he prodded and poked Kizen into some form of improvement.

She certainly hadn't expected Bankai from a soul like that, the light flashing and nearly unveiling her hidden position to the lee of the fight. Adjusting her position, tamping down on her reiatsu to better hide herself, she lost sight of that first barrage. And yet it had resulted in nothing, just as most things did when you threw power against one such as Fujikagi. For all his flaws, for all that he had done to her, she had to admit that his prowess in battle was legendary. More than sufficient for her standards. If only he could have used all that power to defeat that trash Minamoto, then things might have been different today. Then maybe she wouldn't have stared at him with such a burning hatred like acid in her veins.

But he was weak in ways that combat didn't usually show, and it was just another flaw that led him to slowly pulling Kizen through the steps of self-realization. Did he realize what treason this was? Training and abetting a known traitor? Or was it a test, a game, some sort of deeper ploy that she could not grasp from this side of the equation? It really didn't matter, because just as swiftly as the battle had started it ended in a cataclysmic strike of powers. Somehow, someway, Kizen had blown through Fujikagi's barrier, and the red line of anger that swiftly dampened his gi was an indication of the end.

She stepped into that awed silence, the hoarse cough of what had once been her prized lieutenant creating just the opening she needed to dart behind the traitor. Light grew in a brilliant bloom all around her as the very air shimmered a dark aubergine, the crackling of her Shunko splitting sound as it wrapped neatly around her quarry. So close she could feel his body heat, her aura snapped into place almost automatically, the glowing reiatsu pooling like a second skin over the man akin to any well-known bakudo. Such was the pressure of that energy that it would hold him paralyzed and frozen, unable to move a muscle under the exertion of her potent reiatsu.

Whatever else she was feeling, there was some remnants of tenderness deep in her soul for Kiriko sent a slashing look at Fujikagi as careful words spilled from her lips. “I appreciate your distraction of the target, Fujikagi-taichou. However as it seems you have sustained an injury, I will take over from here.” Whatever else she had seen today, she wanted to keep that to herself. There was no need to report him over such a small thing, no need to draw attention to his lapse in protocol. So she smoothed the scene over, reacting as if this had been a planned foray instead of a matter that could bring down danger on the other Captain. She didn't want Kizen knowing the power of what he now had over his one-time ally. Especially not where he was going.

“Haetora Kizen, you are under arrest for your crimes. Not the least of which is assaulting a Captain of the Gotei.” she commanded in voice like steel, certain in the power of her bakudo to keep the prisoner frozen in place, immobile under the force of her sheer aura. 
 
WC: 772 | GP: 15 | Total GP: 15