Don't Beat Yourself Up About It (Solo)

Kirito, the real one of course, was the first to strike. Or, so he though. As soon as the boy rushed forwards, he swung his blade in an upwards crescent, aiming to go for the kill right off of the bat. Unexpectedly, however, was the fact that the other Kirito (let's call him Rev, for the sake of simplicity) dashed forwards at the exact same moment, maybe even just before Kirito did. The strike Kirito launched was parried by an exact replica of the same sword stroke, one launched by Rev. 

The arc the blade took came from the opposite side of Rev's body in response to Kirito's own strike. The two blades met in the air, along the middle of their respective steel. Sparks flew for a moment and the force of both swings colliding released two currents of air, blowing both men's hair to the side. A blue sphere of crackling energy surrounded the pair of combatants as they each tried to gain ground over the other, pushing each other back as the blades pushed against each other. Then, as if on queue, both men leaped backwards, the sphere breaking as they each pointed the blades towards each other as they flew backwards, legs extended as if they were sitting on a long beach chair in the air. 

It was then that Kirito yelled at the top of his lungs, eyes wide and focused on the enemy while Rev remained silent, though as he spoke, both of the men's blades began to ignite with a blue aura focused at the tip.

"Blue Blossom Spring!"

As he spoke the attack's name, each blade shot out a colossal beam of blue lightning, the blasts burning the ground beneath them as they moved to intercept each other.

Once the blasts met, they merged for a moment, before exploding outwards and releasing a blinding shock wave of blinding turquoise light. The floor cratered beneath the men as they both fell to the ground, engulfed by the massive blast. A ways away, Hana looked on with interest, surprised at the vigor with each man fought. She knew both would be injured and the fight needed to conclude soon if Kirito were to reign victorious. There was a way for him to succeed, she knew, but it was up to him to find it.

Kirito lay on the ground, his back against a large rock. His clothes were all torn up, his sword still in his hand. Standing up, Kirito noticed bleeding along his right shoulder, the red liquid oozing out of an open scrape, several similar sights easily noticed among the rest of his body as well. None of the injuries were serious, but they certainly hurt. About 50 feet away, Rev was getting up, obviously injured as Kirito had been. There was an obvious similarity between how the two had dealt with the injuries once they had gotten up, but there was a difference this time. Not only that, but Kirito had a few doubts as to whether he was truly fighting himself or otherwise.

The two continued to battle as Kirito pondered on the question. The clashes lasted for a full day before Kirito finally mustered the courage to ask his question. 

Calling out, Kirito knew he needed to inquire. His voiced reached Rev's ears as Kirito stated something he believed he knew to be true.

"You aren't me, are you?"

Rev was surprised in one way, but in another, the question was completely expected. The answer was about as complicated as the situation itself, and so Rev answered with a proud, yet almost sarcastic sting to his voice.

"Well, it would be hard to create a clone of somebody, wouldn't it? No, I'm not exactly you, but... I also am. You know all those fears you have pent up inside you, those things you believe you don't dare think about even though you secretly do? That's me. It would be appropriate to say I'm who you used to be, and who you don't want to be all bundled up together. Your self doubt, every part of your being that you want to forget exists... those moments when you worry about Chie Kira.... I'm every bit of that pent up, repressed fear. I've been here since you were a baby, not just since Kiri-Hana here became your partner and you said bye bye to mortal life."

The names he used, the words he pulled out of his pockets to throw in his face, Kirito had to admit it made sense. But the last bit confused him. By the man's logic, this must have been the reason Kirito knew so much about his old life. The only reason he, among thousands of shinigami, knew who he had been before he died. Kirito needed clarification. As both men walked towards each other, swords held at their sides, Kirito spoke once more, very interested in the answer to the question he had to ask.

"Wait... all of my life? That must mean you're the source of my human side, the remnants of my mortal soul. Is that true?"

Rev didn't even wait a second to think about the answer. He spoke as soon as he heard the question.

"Bingo. That's exactly what I am. You see, Shinigami, by definition, are supposed to be pure souls, accompanied only by their zanpakuto spirits, a reflection of themselves and their personality. However, once in a while, there are people who don't quite let go of who they once were. These are people like you: Suicide victims who didn't really know what they were doing or why they were dying, souls that have passed on without reason. That's why you remember your human past, why you are incurably human compared to other shinigami. So in essence, what Hana over there is having you do is destroy the doubts of your past so you can achieve your full potential. By doing that, you eliminate any hope of retaining memories of your past. Does that cover everything?"

It was terrible. 

Why would he have to destroy who he really was to become something he knew he shouldn't be? This wasn't what Nanami wanted for him, what anybody who helped him wanted. Kirito wasn't ready to lose himself just in the conquest of power. No way in hell. If one could get stronger by destroying themselves, then he knew they needed to be able to get stronger by doing the opposite.

Accepting who they were.

It was doing the same thing really, but in a different way. He would kill the doubts, and regrets of the past, everything he feared. But he wouldn't be destroying himself. Merely accepting them as part of his being. Kirito didn't want to be perfect. He wanted to be strong, have the power to protect others: To defend what he believed was right. 

And he wasn't going to destroy himself to do it. He looked downwards as he spoke, slowly raising his voice throughout the speech.

"I understand. I'm not ready to get rid of you though. You're a part of me that I can't forget... because for certain.... I'm still human. I accept you, every doubt and regret included. I'm not perfect, and I don't care, because I don't need to. I've lived with you all of my life, and I can do it for as long as I need too... because the good Kirito is still ahead of the negative one by miles!" 

Just like that, it was over. The man put on a sadistic smirk as he began to fade away, light pushing itself forwards and overwhelming his being. The man began to turn to dust, as he floated throughout the air, settling in the center of the pond: Kirito's soul. A part of Kirito knew he should have gotten rid of the negative portion of himself when he had the chance. Yet, any part of him was one worth having. Kirito knew he could achieve victory working alongside his fears: because eventually, his better side would conquer them, destroying them entirely, but leaving behind what mattered. 

They would leave behind his past, the memories that mattered. The events that truly made up the being that was Kirigaya Kazuto.

These deep, neglected and negative thoughts had been bunched up with what mattered to Kirito, and he had thrust all of it to the side in the conquest of power, an evil thirst, he now realized. He was ready to complete himself, and by extension, his zanpakuto. The blade began to glow, radiated with the newfound strength of Kirito's soul as he gazed at the sword, it's feeling changing immeasurably. A tornado, a thunderstorm, the crackling and snapping of energy zipping around him. And then the glow faded, revealing a white blade, something Kirito had never seen before.


A few hundred feet away, clapping could be heard. It wasn't quite sarcastic and slow, but it obviously wasn't a standing ovation. Yet, when he looked to the right, Kirito saw Kiri Hana slowly walking forwards with a smile on her face. It took her a minute to begin speaking, her tone just a bit above that of a neutral one.

"Good job. Honestly, I didn't expect you to realize that destroying yourself would erase your human side... regardless, that was impressive. Now, one more thing. Prove to me that you're ready to wield it."

Kirito looked her in the eye, determination flaring in his own, now black pools. The young woman held out a sword, the same one Kirito had been holding mere moments beforehand. Her hands each took one end of the blade, her palms pressed against the flat side, leaving a large gap between the two small hands. Kirito knew what he had to do. If he was truly ready to evolve... yes, it made sense. Kirito took his new blade above his head, grasping it in both hands looking at the sword that was once his: no, it still was his own... but it wasn't his. This blade he was holding was his and he would prove it. 

Kirito brought the blade down onto the face of the sword. It seemed to hold there for a mere moment, a single bead of sweat appearing on Kirito's forehead.

Then the blade shattered. The white blade stood strong, surrounding by a thousand shards of steel, broken to pieces by that one, fateful swing. It was here, that Kirito could finally relax as Kiri Hana's voice floated it's way across the air to his ears.

"I'm satisfied: You've earned it."

Kirito took a deep breath of relief. He had been worried the result would be the exact opposite of what he'd just done. For once in very recent times, he was actually happy. Kirito had surpassed his Zanpakuto spirit's expectations: He was no longer a boy who had found the girl while lost in his own soul.

He managed to crack out a smile as he closed his eyes and passed out, finding himself awake in the courtyard outside his quarters, finished meditating, radiated with power.

He felt better than he ever had before. He knew he was ready to take power in his right hand and pull at it, bringing it home to his rightful owner.

Words: 1832