Pardon My Mess

For the past few days, Daichi had been noticing something odd. The hollows that he had been tracking had started disappearing rapidly before he could find them, without so much as a trace, and there wasn't a single Shinigami in the area other than him. So naturally, he went to investigate-this phenomenon surely wasn't natural. And, after some searching about, he finally found the culprit of these disappearance's, and it was less surprising than he might have thought-a stupid Quincy who doesn't know self restraint. As the hollow ambushed the Quincy, Daichi shadowed them as they moved out from the city towards the forest. He watched as the man restrained the hollow beneath his body and blew it to smithereens. It was then that the man noticed Daichi, and he decided to make his appearance.
"I believe you asked the hollow earlier this one question: What does death taste like?"
He walked out from behind the tree he was using to hide.
"I believe one of my kind would be better suited to answer that question, given how our race are literally gods of death. But of course, you probably already know that-or do you? Given your obvious disregard for the balance, maybe your some kind of Quincy who has no idea about the spiritual world and how it works? Yes, that would be much more forgivable."
Daichi sighed, looked at the corpse, then back at the man.
"But sadly, that doesn't seem to be the case, as I doubt someone that practiced in fighting spiritual beings would be completely unaware of the repercussions. Which means that you simply do not care, and if that is the case..."
Daichi started to walk backwards, this man was obviously strong in close combat, made apparent from the fight with the hollow. Gaining distance would be beneficial for a Kido user like Daichi, and against a real opponent it's best to take all the advantages you can get. He pulled out his sword, then got in a positions to defend against anything the Quincy might throw at him.
"Then I can't just leave you around to do as you please."

WC-357

The balance? That was what he brought up, when he finally stepped out of the trees and showed himself?

Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from audibly groaning.

“Here we go,” he sighed and, inevitably, the Shinigami gave the exact same speech he had been told to expect. Of course, today marked the first time that Lucas ever properly met a Shinigami. Under normal circumstances, he would try to take it more seriously. But when he looked at this man, “man” being used quite loosely, he simply couldn’t muster the self-discipline to believe this was actually happening.

To Lucas, it wasn’t really his short stature that did him in; though, it didn’t do him any favors. Instead, it was the distinctly lithe, feminine body, face, and the nearly shoulder-length white hair. If it wasn’t for a much more masculine voice, and a distinct lack of anything under his shirt, Lucas could have thought his first run-in with the Shinigami was some pretty girl here to kill him.

When he finally finished his introductions—which included everything except his name, as this manner-less military man saw fit to exclude it—Lucas looked and felt completely underwhelmed. An immediate assault would have been more impressive, but at the very least he got a professional reading of his supposed crimes.

“So this is what a Shinigami looks like,” Lucas spoke rhetorically and nodded his head. “I can’t say I’m impressed, but, then, from the stories my father shared, I didn’t have very high expectations in the first place.”

Both of Lucas wrists twisted and lightly popped. He steepled his fingers and pushed them forward, cracking the knuckles and joints in a loud succession before he took his hands apart before, but he didn’t raise them as fists, ready to fight. Not yet.

The Shinigami had given him a chance to say his piece, so he would.

“And, of course, your Shinigami lies about the Balance of Souls continue to be perpetuated as a justification for attacking a Quincy who was doing your job better than you could,” Lucas scoffed. “You’re textbook; a living stereotype proven true. So let me make something perfectly clear: My name is Lucas Lightner, Knight of the Order of the Quincy under Queen Freyleif Jökulsdóttir, and if you want me to stop protecting humans and killing Hollows? You’ll have to make me.”

Then he raised his fists, getting into an immediate A-frame, ready to tackle anything this man had to throw at him. He had no idea what this Shinigami was capable of, what his supposedly-magical sword could do—he never fully believed his father’s stories in that regard—or how powerful he might actually be. A quick scan with his spiritual sense had told him that he had a considerable edge in power, but that was very vague information, and couldn’t be relied upon alone.

“Well?” Lucas asked, his voice sharper. “I’m waiting, Shinigami.”

His fists tightened just a little, and the glowing, spiritual gloves over his hands got a bit brighter with anticipation. Even though he felt good about these circumstances, even though he was confident he could pull this off if he tried hard enough, it was still new. He couldn’t help the anxiety that nipped at the edges of his awareness.

“Shit or get out.”

*****

553 Words

Daichi listened to, and was shocked by, what the other man said.
'So this is the current mindset of the Quincy? No wonder there have been a increase of reports of Quincy attacks on hollows, they're convinced the balance is a lie...what kind of lies led them to believe that? Huh?'
"...An exchange of names is it? Interesting, but I guess I'll give you the courtesy...the name is Amou Daichi, of the first division. Remember it, it will be the name of the Shinigami who beat some sense into you."
Then, upon hearing the mans challenge, Daichi started casting a chantless Shakkaho. He would probably need a distraction though...maybe...
"But you'll probably be more concerned with another name...the name of my blade."
And thus Daichi held out his blade raised in one hand, whilst keeping the other free by his side, and said:
"Cry out, Inkirei."
And as the blade shimmered and turned into water, Daichi let out his Shakkaho, blazing through the air at Lucas. He lept back, and started casting Bakudo number 21, Sekienton, to conceal himself in case Lucas managed to dodge the Hado.
"So you want to prove that Quincy are better, Mr Lucas Lightner? Try it. Just try it. Now, I'm not a firm believer in the whole Shinigami are the best deal, but I most certainly do not believe that Quincy do a better job. Seriously, do you not know how much damage you are causing? Why try to half assedly do a job that is already being covered by the professionals, and put the universe out of balance in the process? You Quincy are the ones who need putting in their place, not us Shinigami."
As he was saying this Daichi had circled behind Lucas, and had started preparing for what the other man would do. Would he need a Bakudo? A shield, to stop Lucas from getting to him? Or a Kido, to follow through and knock Lucas out? Or...He looked at his blade.
'No. I do not need to use it. It would be reckless of me to endanger a human life, no matter how misguided it is, like that.'
And so he prepared himself.

WC-369

Cry out, Inkirei.

Over the years, Lucas heard many stories about the Shinigami and their magical swords from his father. All of them sounded a little outlandish, until the very moment the white-haired lady-man in front of him called out the name of his own.

Steel turned to water that flowed back and forth, sloshed just like a liquid, but stayed in the shape of the blade. It was impossible, absurd, yet he saw it with his very own eyes. Just like that, Lucas knew that his father had never once lied or even exaggerated the abilities of the Shinigami or their magic swords, and Lucas then knew that this man wasn’t joking.

Everything that came out of his mouth was deadly serious, if that’s what it came down to. But Lucas also knew that this men and women operated under a strict set of rules with the shadowy authority of Officers and Lieutenants and Captains to enforce it. They couldn’t simply kill a human, even a Quincy, without an emergency or self-defense to justify it. Or, of course, direct orders from someone with the authority to declare an end to a human’s life.

More accurately: The mistaken belief that they had such authority.

Next followed a wall of a fire, a clear Kidō spell whose supposed incantation Lucas had somehow missed. It was a big, red ball of flickering, spiritual flame that roared forward at him, with streaks of white cutting through it. He had no idea what it could do, if anything, besides explode, and he wasn’t going to take that chance.

On reflex, Lucas raised his hand and pointed the palm right at the flowing orb. A second later and a huge, blue-tinted explosion of orange fire met the spell head-on and took it out with considerable ease, overwhelmed entirely by sheer, superior firepower.

The blast drew a large curtain of smoke and debris in front of Lucas. Charred earth rained down on around his head and two trees around this small clearing had chunks of their trunks burned away before they got knocked over, roots ripped from the ground.

“Prove that we’re better?” Lucas repeated Amou’s accusation. At least he had gotten a name before the Shinigami lobbed off that spell. “I don’t believe I ever said that. My words, if I recall, were about me doing this job better than you or any other Shinigami that might be around.”

Boots crunched at the twigs and sticks on the ground in front of him as Lucas marched forward, into the smoke, and obscured himself from view. The cloud went to just in front of him and Amou both, mostly likely, and when he charged out of it, there’d be very little room between him and the Shinigami. And from the sound of his voice, the lady-man hadn’t moved from his spot.

But Lucas didn't trust his ears alone. This adventure of his had forced him to use his spiritual sense more and more, and now he was able to click it on with greater ease. When he did, he caught the vague presence of the man as he ran, impressively silent, around the cloud of smoke and to where Lucas had been.

“And if you can name one symptom of the ‘damage’ I’m causing,” Lucas answered from the cloud. He wanted Amou to know he was coming, but to think that he was still going for where the man had been. “Then I’ll believe you. But from where I’m standing, the only difference I’ve made is a few less, dead humans and a few ego-bruised Shinigami.”

Light peeked through the smoke right in front of Lucas, and he knew he reached the end. He clenched both hands into tight fists. His father had taught him a very American style of fighting: Every blow must be able to incapacitate your opponent if it connects cleanly and without interference.

Those last few details always proved to be the hardest part.

Lucas pivoted on his heels and sprinted in the opposite direction. Trails of it still clung to him when he burst forth and got carried with him. He suddenly came face to face with the Shinigami yet again, his liquid sword in plain view. Lucas’ fist had already lurched forward, swung straight and from the hip, and aimed right at the heart of the Shinigami.

*****

727 Words

Commentary below.

Daichi watched as Lucas blasted his technique with an explosion-an interesting move, not one he had considered. He then laughed at Lucas' retort. This Quincy thought that he was better than a man he had never met?
"Okay then, prove that you are better than me specifically. Because I have yet to see proof of that."
Daichi listened to the other mans footsteps. The other man was being quite clear about his position...but was it carelessness, or part of a plan? He wasn't sure. Well, Lucas seemed to be heading to where Daichi was before, so it seemed he was intent on engaging in close combat...a logical step, he was certainly outmatched by Lucas in that regard. Daichi needed a plan of action if that were to come about...flee? But Daichi really wouldn't be fast enough. Block with a Bakudo? Something told Daichi the other man was too strong for a Bakudo to protect him from the blow completely. Maybe he could try using the technique Lucas used, by sending out a Hado to slow the momentum of Lucas' attacks? But he wasn't sure that he had enough strength behind his attacks to do that, that would be a risk...maybe there was another way?
"Give evidence to the damage you are causing? Well, I could come up with multiple examples, but I've given up trying to talk sense with you. You are obviously convinced of whatever story you have made up about conspiracies and lies, and will not listen to the truth as it is uttered before you. I will just have to wait until the day you eventually pass on to Seireitei and see the truth with your very eyes, that the balance is a very real thing, and that the Shinigami are an important existence in this world-and hopefully then, you will either become a Shinigami, or realise you should leave our job to us. It really isn't that hard, but you make a marathon of it."
Daichi noticed an odd change in the behavior of the other man, and then watched as Lucas shifted his direction completely, and sprang at him.
'Oh shi-'
Daichi wasn't sure what to do. He had been thinking it over only a couple of moments ago, but now his head was blank. What should he do? He had no solid way to dodge- and yet, without at all considering it, or the consiquences, Daichi let of a Shakkaho, the momentum of which drove him out of the way of Lucas' fist...and into a tree.
'Well...that could've gone better... it hurts, but I imagine it is better than what would have happened if I took that. I need to be more careful and think more about what he might be planning, so he doesn't catch me off guard. Okay, an good way to attack him...Projectiles don't work, close combat won't really work...'
'You could use me-oh calm down, I didn't mean that. Yeah sure, I want this guy dead, but I can't exactly do something if you don't want me to. Now what I propose, is that you curl me around him, and then manipulate the pressure like one of your water bullet things to shoot him off, all the way into the horizon...I wish, we couldn't throw him that far if we tried. But still pretty far. And yeah, you wouldn't have me if you were in a close combat situation, but we are pretty much screwed in that situation anyway, right? The best we could do is throw out a Bakudo and hope it doesn't hurt. so we might as well use me to get him out of here. Capiche?'
'Well...It's our best shot.'
So, Daichi wrapped Inkirei's water around Lucas' arm and shot him away. He hoped that this would keep him way long enough for Daichi to do something decisive...but what? As mentioned before, most of his attacks didn't work against this guy...then it hit him. Hadn't he used this technique recently, in the practice match where he couldn't use high level Hado's and couldn't use his sword? 
"Bird of sorrow, catch my cry...let it carry in the air, and tear through the sky...Hado number 15, solemn echoes."
As he uttered the last words, a terrifying screech sounded in the air, and the Hado took effect. Animals took of as fast as they could to escape the noise, plant life swayed at the force. It was going to be difficult for Lucas to defend against this-at least, Daichi hoped so. Who knew, maybe Lucas still had a trump card up his sleeve that Daichi had not foreseen? Only time would tell.

WC-785

Desperation colored Amou’s face when Lucas got within striking distance. Or, more accurately, desperation took the color out of Amou’s face. The moment he realized that the fist aimed at his heart was stronger than he could handle, and more perfectly placed that he could manage even with his magic, the Shinigami’s mind sprung into panicked thought. In that moment, Lucas witnessed a world of option-weighing go through that man’s mind. If he was particularly unlucky, that blow could kill him, and Amou seemed to understand that perfectly.

What Lucas never expected was for him to blow himself up. Just like he had done before, he fired off a Shakkahou by placing one hand on his bicep and pointing his other palm forward. The red spell lashed out, but this time it wasn’t at Lucas—he fired right at the ground.

The explosion kicked Amou back and tumbled him through the air before he crashed into a tree and nearly split the trunk in half. The explosion kicked dirt into the air and created another smoke cloud in front of Lucas, one that was cleared when his blow came to a sudden stop. The force of it displaced the air in a rough blast that blew the black fog and floating dirt back over Amou and into the rest of the words behind him.

Worse for wear, when Lucas looked at the man, but far from out of this fight—and just as far from giving up, much to Lucas’ chagrin.

“Clever,” he complimented Amou, arm still outstretched.

Those words cost him.

Amou swung his sword forward and the liquid blade reached out like a tendril that immediately coiled around Lucas’ arm. Stunned by the suddenness of it—he figured it just let the man cut and manipulate water!—Lucas didn’t get his arm away until it was too late. But when the water pulled on him, Lucas didn’t budge. Instead, he bit his fingers into it and grabbed the water like he was choking the life out of someone.

“How’s this for proof?” Lucas asked with a tilt of his head and a sarcastic little smile.

Something Amou clearly did not appreciate. The next few words that Lucas heard, he didn’t recognize, not until the word ‘Hadō’ came out of Amou’s mouth. Before he knew it, a screeching of such volume and pitch that Lucas couldn’t hear himself think sounded out. He was screaming in just the first second, and tightened his grip on the water sword as he dropped to a knee and felt his ear-drums vibrate on the very edge of bursting entirely.

A Hadō that attacked with sound was unlike anything that Lucas had ever heard of.

“You fuck,” Lucas shouted through the pain, gritting his teeth to stop himself from screaming any louder. It took another second for his scrambled brain to come up with a defense.

Around his ears started to form a mass of spiritual particles. At first, they were blue and shapeless, until they started to come together like the world’s smallest Lego blocks in a giant muffler around Lucas’ two ears, covering them entirely.

Still kneeling, with sweat dripping off of his nose, Lucas took a few deep breaths to collect himself. Even now, he could still feel the pain of the sound as it screeched through his cobbled-together defense. He couldn’t block it out entirely, but this would do for keeping him fighting.

“My turn!” he barked right back at the man, all of his patience and goodwill gone. Now he wanted to hurt him.

With is watery sword still trapped, Lucas abruptly raised his free arm and pointed the palm at the Shinigami before him, fingers spread. A moment later and a flash of light gave away the explosion that followed, right in front of the man and more than enough to burn his Shihakushō, and his entire front half, clean off of his body if he let it.

*****

660 Words

Commentary below.

Daichi heard Lucas' word-Clever. How odd. To compliment your opponent in the middle of a battle, it simply was not something you do. You are putting your life on the line and every second, every action counts. Lucas was letting his attention slip, and in that moment Daichi landed a hit-and this was like a beacon to him. He could do this. His opponent was wavering. He had gained momentum, and if he followed through he would tear apart his opponents defenses. He watched carefully...his opponent clutched onto his Zanpakuto, stopping it in it's tracks. This was fine. Whilst it seemed like the best possible way to deal with his Zanpakuto in terms of that one attack, it was, in actuality, the worst. At least, if Daichi were to use it properly-the way he knew it was supposed to be used. But was he desperate enough to do that? To cause that much damage to this one stranger...just because he disregarded the balance? He started analyzing himself, looking left and right, throughout all of his morale beliefs, and found...that if he had to resort to such mans or admit defeat, he would resolve himself to attack with all his might. The balance was simply more important to him. The rules and law of the afterlife were originally just a tool to control him before, but now he had grown to understand them, and truly wanted to protect them. And he wouldn't let some Quincy brat jeopardize all of that. He saw Lucas crumpling to the ground, not able to handle Solemn Echoes loud screeching, and even beginning to add his own screams. How amusing. It seemed odd to Daichi, in this one moment, that a persons natural inclination when faced with a loud noise is to make another loud noise in response. He knew that was an unwanted distraction, but he couldn't help it-it was just so intriguing to him in this split second. And then he noticed that Lucas had done something to recover, and prepared for his counter attack. But he did not expect the man to put up his hand and start an explosion...this brought Daichi back to the severity of the situation.
'Ah shit, he is doing the explosion thing again, now...in a normal situation this would be bad, but I still have my Zanpakuto attached to him...a real bad move on his part, that. So if I pull here...'
And just like that, Daichi used his Zanpakuto to pull Lucas to the side, diverting his explosion...but not quite fast enough, as the outer rim of the explosion still hit him. Daichi grimaced holding his right arm, which had been hit the worst. But that had been all. Lucas seemed to be running out of ideas, whilst Daichi was alread coming up with his next move.
'Okay, we got him pretty good...but this still isn't the battle won. We can't let our guard down. Now, we need an effective way to take out his physical capabilities if we want to really stop that close combat potential...a quick and easy way to take down someone physically with my powers...an electric Hado through my water? No, its pure, that won't work...unless I find a way to make it not pure.'
And it was here that Daichi had his cruelest idea.
'No...I know I said I would use it if I had to, but...no, this is my best chance. Pure water might not conduct electricity, but blood, which is designed to have dissolved sugars and salts, does. And as long as I don't take too much, he will be fine after he gives himself some time to recuperate. Alright, Inkirei?'
'Hmm?'
'You're up, just don't kill him. I know you've been waiting for this.'
As he thought this, the Zanpakuto spirit gave a deep foreboding laugh.
'Excellent...EXCELLENT!'
Daichi walked foreward nervously, collecting the water of his Zanpakuto, then pushed it further forwards, so that it curled round Lucas' glove, reaching skin...and started to tear through, unveiling tiny pricks of blood, that grew larger by the second and started to trickel through the water, forming slim lines for the electricity to pass through. Inkirei was controlling itself after all, not too much at all, just enough to do what was needed. Daichi stated preparing the Hado.
"Sprinkled on the bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind,stop and become the calm. The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle!"
Daichi pulled his hand from his arm  to his watery blade, just as the blood trickled to the edge. Perfect timing, when they weren't fighting, him and Inkirei made an excellent team.
"Hado number 61-Raikoho!"
As he watched the electricity run down, he wondered for a moment how much damage this would actually do. Lucas' body was full of blood, which Daichi's attack would directly link to, so in theory...but, that wasn't Daichi's problem. It would just mean more paperwork for him, and one annoying Quincy learning his lesson not to threaten the balance. That was a fine trade off in his eyes.

WC-866

Blue flashed in front of Lucas and consumed his vision, for a moment, before the light turned to the bright orange of real, physical fire. It rushed forward and drew a line through the clearing, but stopped just before the trees. The shockwave, too, was enough to rattle the trunks and shake the canopy, blowing away the leaves that hung in the air around the two men.

The blast missed its mark. Just as Lucas ignited it, he felt Amou’s Zanpakutō drag him, with great difficulty, to the side at just the right moment to throw the blast off. But as the smoke cleared, he got enough of a glimpse of the man to see that he had hardly escaped unscathed. Burnt robes, some exposed and very painful-looking skin, none of it spoke well for how Amou must have felt just then. Between smashing himself into a tree, and then being burnt like he was, the Shinigami would be whittled down into nothing at this rate.

With his hand still raised, Lucas dug his heels into the ground a bit more. He had every intention of staying right there and, with his hand still raised, using it to ignite blast after blast until the Shinigami got the idea to retreat, or simply couldn’t fight any further. As much as he wanted to avoid killing the boy—he looked even younger than Lucas, somehow—he knew the risks he assumed when he attacked a Quincy.

Another scream pierced the woods when Lucas felt the “blade” of water suddenly swallow part of his arm, past the wrist, and stab into it. Lucas cut it off with a grit of his teeth and watched as he bled, through his jacket sleeve, and into the blade.

For a moment, he just stood there and pondered why the man would be doing this. In the next moment, Lucas stopped caring.

Whatever the Shinigami’s plan was, he had just done Lucas a favor!

With his hand still free, Lucas tightened his grip on the water sword and took a few steps back to stretch the blade and see if it would break, but the Shinigami simply marched forward again. Again, he dug himself into the loose dirt beneath his boots, to hold his ground.

The words that followed revealed what the Shinigami was up to: The incantation for a spell! Golden light started to grow and emanate from the water, so it no doubt had to do with that, and getting blood into it. Lucas couldn’t guess why, the specifics weren’t overly important. Whatever the spell was going to turn into, it wasn’t going to be anything good for the Quincy who stood in front of it.

Then, to mix with the golden light that started to form in the water, Lucas’ Quincy blood turned from crimson, to blue.

In the blood of every Quincy were spiritual particles. Quincy of sufficient ability—which Lucas was not, yet—could even use them to enhance the capabilities of their body. But for those that couldn’t?

Spiritual particles were still spiritual particles.

“You didn’t do your homework!” Lucas shouted, in time with the completion of the man’s incantation. With those words, the blood in the water ignited into one of Lucas’ ferocious blasts and crashed against the spell that had suddenly snaked down the other end of the blade. They created a furious lightshow—and burst open the water blade, turning it into steam—of gold and blue that danced over the tree trunks and shot beams of light through the gaps in the leaves.

Smoke from the collision of spiritual energy clouded the area, and the two men. Lucas felt the water turn to steam and wash over his face, and he held his breath. But he was still close to the man, he could feel him right in front, and with his hands free? He knew exactly what to do.

Two, hard steps forward brought him well within arm’s reach. Both of Lucas’ blue-glove covered hands clenched into tight fists as he reeled them back. In perfect succession, he threw them both forward in a timed double-punch, aimed right for the very center of the man’s chest—one fist on it, the other to the side.

The force of it was enough to send another shockwave through the clearing, blowing away the water and steam in the air, and clearing the smoke with it, leaving only the two men.

As the pain in his right arm set in, Lucas hoped that he was the only one left on his feet.

*****

763 Words

Commentary below.

If nothing else, he could admire the Shinigami’s tenacity. When he saw the red light of another spell bleed through the veil of smoke and dust in front of him, he knew that this fight wasn’t quite over. And when he felt the front of his two fists connect with it, and break it apart into a shower of flame and spiritual particles, he felt every ounce of the man’s power in it. He hadn’t gotten weaker at all.

The woods around them shook once more when Lucas’ two fists hit the reconstituted blade of the Shinigami. It shoved Amou back through the soil, which collected around his heels, until he came to a clean stop. The gloves around Lucas’ fists still steamed from the heat of the broken spell as the Quincy stood there and, slowly, returned to a standing posture with both fists raised.

Naturally, he wasn’t one to assume that a magical sword controlling water would just lose its abilities when the water turned to steam, or even got inside of him. That’s why he blew apart the steam cloud immediately, and why he immediately suspected that there’d be water left in his bloodstream after the blade pierced him. It didn’t take a genius to connect the two.

Once again, that wasn’t the only thing in his blood. So when he felt the water start to pull at him, his spiritual particles resisted—still under his control, just like the ones that made up his glowing, blue gloves. And slowly he turned up their heat, burning away at the last bits of Amou’s water in his body. He could feel the uncomfortable heat in his veins and arteries when he did it, but managed to avoid hurting himself in the process, and took a deep breath when it was all done.

“If I wasn’t stronger than you, Shinigami, that would have worked,” Lucas admitted. It was only because his powers were greater than the man in front of him that he could escape that unscathed. “And my blood is a convenience to more than just you.”

After all, he was still bleeding.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Lucas swung his right arm forward like a whip. Blood splattered out of the wounds on his arm and straight for Amou, turning bright-blue in midair before they detonated—stronger than his usual, ranged explosions—in a chain that reached all the way to the Shinigami man. The same arm snapped its fingers together, setting off another explosion behind Amou, to cut off his route of escape.

At the same time, Lucas charged right in. It took two, bounding steps to close the distance—with a slight step to Lucas’ left—before he swung a wide, left hook at the side of the Shinigami’s head. It whistled through the air and, when it finally stopped, once again shook the trees around them right to their centers, scaring away even the bravest of birds that had been ridiculous enough to stick around this long.

*****

502 Words

Commentary below.