On the Edge of Perfection

, the floating city of Katashi Hamasaki. Morning.

"Say, what is the reason for this, Kōtaku-chan?"

An old man of average height, dressed in a trailing dark green garb, took a sip of tea, then put the cup back at the table. He seemed of advanced age, the face riddled with wrinkles and its features sharp. However, the gaiety of his demeanour stood in stark contrast with the appearance of a wizened sage, more befitting of a spirited youth. The vigour of a zealous young warrior emanated from the husk of a person who had experienced countless periods of intermittent strife and peace across several millennia. As such, he served as a foil to his taciturn interlocutor.

"I've already told you."

There was no follow-up to that statement, uttered in a tone devoid of emotion. The woman in front of him was an elegant beauty, a genuine lady clad in a regal indigo kimono adorned with flower motifs. She seemed young and petite, her almond-shaped eyes a brilliant emerald colour and face features indicative of nobility. Be that as it may, her light blonde hair cut short and the slight frown that contorted her face were more faithful to the disposition of the woman, stern, distant, brooding. Battle-hardened and cynical veteran locked in the body of a young princess.

"True, I know the official reason. But what about the actual one?", asked Katashi Hamasaki with a smirk. "Surely, there is more to this than a simple evaluation of skill."

Kimiko glared at him, the gaze of her eyes piercing him like the tip of a sword. She sat there, stiff, unmoving, her cup of tea left undisturbed even since it had been placed in front of her some time ago.

"Oh, don't look at me like that", Katashi shook his head. "I know something has been bothering you ever since that fateful day. What exactly? You can tell me. I may talk a lot, but I sure do know how to keep a secret. Isn't that right?"

Kōtaku narrowed her eyes, only to avert her gaze a while later. Of course he would suspect something. As the only one alive who knew of the connection between her and that man he was quick to draw the conclusion. But why did he insist on her expressing her doubts aloud? She was not one to talk much, and certainly not about her feelings.

"I need to regain confidence in my strength. I need to know I shall not falter again", she spoke in the end, though not without hesitation.

Katashi nodded slowly. His smirk transitioned into a more friendly, warm smile. For a moment, at least, until his mischievous nature took over the reigns again.

"But why not choose me?", he tilted his head. "I don't want to boast, but I'm the number one here as far as Kidō is concerned. If you want to prepare to combat his magic..."

"No offence, Hamasaki-san", interrupted him Kimiko. "But Shingen-san is the strongest opponent I can hope to spar with."

Katashi looked up and shrugged.

"Oh well, brutally honest as always. Excuse me for not standing the test of time as well as the two of you. Though I'm quite sure I'm the only who doesn't cheat in this regard..."

"Well, I am glad I accepted these summons, then", said a voice from outside the room, rough and slightly irritated if the tone was any indication. The door to the room slid open, and Satō revealed himself. A relatively middle-aged figure, with a long mane of black hair that was tied back by a long blue ribbon, and a well groomed adornment of facial hair. He donned the typical robes of a Shinigami with a stylised jinbaori worn atop it. As he stood facing the pair, he settled into a contrast between them, not as young as the beautiful Kimiko, nor as wizened as old Katashi, though it was hard to tell with spirits.

He cleared his throat after making his entrance, realising that it was quite rude to do as he had done.

"Forgive my eavesdropping, Katashi-ue, your voice just happened to echo into the halls", the man bowed his head apologetically, and the irritation in his words had all but evaporated.

Hamasaki appeared surprised for a brief moment. Then, he let out a hearty laughter.

"Speak of the devil! Come in, come in, take a seat, Shingen-kun. Would you like some tea? Sake, perhaps?", he said with a wide smile.

Meanwhile, Kimiko merely looked at the newcomer with an austere expression. At least, she acknowledged his arrival with a nod of her head. She had never been the life of the party. It was obvious, though, she was acting even more reserved than usual.

"No, no stimulants please, if we are to do this, I would prefer it be done naturally", Shingen responded with marked seriousness, something that clearly didn't fit in the atmosphere of the question, or the room for that matter. But he didn't acknowledge it for more than a second, instead turning to the silent Guardswoman.

"Kimiko-ue, I am glad you sought me out for this, in fact I have been feeling quite the same of late", his hand drifted down to his sword, clutching on to the hilt with a tense grip. "I have come to realise that I have over-relied on the strength of my Zanpakutō rather than the connection between us".

His voice took on a rather poetic rote, stiff and mechanical, but the words flowed as if practiced for specifically this purpose. "The power of the release state is your domain, my lady, while mine is the connection between myself and my blade, what better way is there to remind myself of this than to clash with you?"

For some time Kōtaku kept gazing at the man. Then, she cast a glance at the tachi tucked between the folds of her sash and gently placed her hand on its pommel. The frown on her face vanished without a trace. She looked much more pensive now, somewhat sad, too.

"I suppose we both have something to prove", she said eventually in a quiet voice. "And some room for improvement. The invasion on Soul Society had far-reaching repercussions, beyond property damage and casualties of war. I have been fighting an internal conflict for too long. My resolve wavers. I have to reinforce my conviction. For that I require your help, and I am deeply grateful that you accepted my request."

Katashi had been observing her attentively, stroking his plaited beard in the meantime. Once she finished, he nodded slowly.

"Very well. Now that the both of you are ready to cooperate, let's get down to it."

He stood up and began pacing across the room, his arms folded behind his back. His dark green garb, spreading but otherwise nondescript, trailed behind him while he moved.

"As you know, sparing at a level such as the two of you represent is quite a troublesome matter. Wherever you go, a few swings of the blade are bound to change the very landscape around you. More than that, holding back is simply counterproductive. Fortunately, my highly esteemed self has already come up with an excellent solution."

At that point he stopped abruptly, only to turn in a way that allowed him to look at both of his guests with a boastful countenance. Even in old age Hamasaki had a penchant for theatrics and no shortage of self-confidence to display in the company of friends.

"Dark-type spells of Meiandō deceive all the senses of people unlucky enough to find themselves under their charm. One day I mused, however, what could be accomplished if the target not only offered no resistance, but actually helped sustain the illusion? The result is amazing, if I do say so myself", he stated. "Completely functional fake reality, so convincing as to be indistinguishable from the real deal, yet with virtually no side-effects on the physical world. In short, perfect combat simulation, if one is so inclined."

Suddenly, he waved his right hand to the side. Grey staff with a sizeable ruby gem embedded in its head emerged swiftly from the sleeve of his robe, far too long to comfortably fit in there yet procured with nonchalance typical to the owner. With that, Hamasaki turned to Satō.

"Please, take a seat, Shingen-kun."