Those Who Walk In The Mist

Two Arms To Cross
Harama stood in the misty forest on the outskirts of the rukon district. He was doing his one-fingered push-ups "one thousand two hundred and five, one thousand two hundred and six...." He continued on.

Today was certainly not a day for Sachi Yamamura to enjoy her peace of the day, especially with several hungry-looking thugs nearing her as she attempted to walk by. Being anyone else, they certainly would've been intimidated by the muscle, sneering grins, and hidden weapons in the offensive-looking men's pockets. But, of course, she was not one of those people that panicked under pressure.

"You're in my way. Care to move?" She asked dryly, looking around.

Of course, they would not listen. But one did speak up, and that was directly from behind her, voice mocking and apparently attempting to be seductive. "Now, why should we do that, when there's a lone girl like you walkin' this part of town alone? Come with us..."

As she carefully placed her sheathed sword up-side down on her shoulder, that same man reached out and gripped the sides of her arms in an attempt to keep her from moving.

"We'll make you fe--"

WHAM!

With a flick of her thumb, the butt of Sachi's sword was raised upward, slamming into the man's chin with a good display of force. It made him stagger and yell out of surprise, before he fell disgracefully on his butt. As if on cue, the others started to grip for their hidden weapons, all the meanwhile swearing at her.

"You bitch!"

"We're gonna beat you till you cry like a fuckin' baby!"

An unconscious and irritated sigh came from Sachi's mouth as she unsheathed Benizakura a little more...

Crimson Debt
"Rip his throat out!" A fan screamed, dozens of extremely wealthy and evil spectators surrounding a caged arena. It was an undergroung fighting league, where those who were lucky enough to live...and keep all of their parts in tact, earned an unimaginable sum of money. But the real business lied with the spectators, sinister business men and women who payed sums exceeding billions on the winner of these deathmatches. No fighter had ever one more than one match, the battles being so horrifying that anyone who survived even one involuntarily clinged on to however many breaths they had left.

Most recently however, a single Shinigami competitor had broken numerous ring records, establishing a 12-0 record, but was now terribly scarred physically, as well as mentally and psychologically. Truth be told, he entered the competition to pay off a debt he acquired at the peak of his addiction to gambling. It had been quite some time since then, and he now had a family to care for, and when their life was threatened, he was forced into the competition to spare their lives. As he bit the throat of his last opponent, his formerly sane eyes were now bloodshot and flowing with tears.

"Is there not anyone that can stand up to the might of our champion?!" Roared the announcer.

Out of the shadows stepped what seemed to be a simple teenager, but the depth of his eyes told a much deeper tale to those wise enough to study them.

"Sir, you are a mere child, do you honestly wish to challenge our reigning and near-invincible champion?" He asked, raising the zeal of the crowd.

The black-haired teen paid no attention to the words of the man but stepped into the cage.

The announcer swallowed nervously, snugging at his collar. "...Alright, this will be a death match of course, all fighters discard any clothing you have!"

The champion was already half naked and bleeding to the core, but the willpower in his eyes fueled him beyond reason.

The teenaged cotnender tossed off his black over coat and tanktop, removing his boots as well. Suddenly the walls of the arena emmitted devastingly sharp spikes, irrevocably blood-stained. On the floor, every other foot's space was emcompased by equally lethal blades.

"No spiritual energy or supernatural abiltiies will be used in this deathmatch, just pure hand-to-hand combat until the other perishes."

As soon as the announcer finished his sentence the champion charged, his battle cry raging for his family. He jumped into the air, raising his fist with overwhelming force and thrust speed. The teenager simply side-stepped beautifully, not even grazing the spikes as his opponent passed. He quickly turned his pelvis and placed his hand on his opponent's neck, slamming his already momentum-controlled body head first into a blade in the ground, absolutely drenching the arena in crimson.

"...We have a winner!" The announcer cried in utter disbelief. "Here is your prize money!" He notioned the teenager.

"You all disgust me, this entire community is wretched to the core." He drew his blade from his waist, a jet black katana with ridges that were jagged for reason. On the blade illuminated in a bright and deep green was an ancient text.

"But, that carnage, it was beautiful, even you are a part of the art of pain!"

"That is why I do this, there is no harm if the tainted battle the tainted, no more devastation can be created." Said the teenager, and as he said, cries of unsurpassed fear rang throughout the building that night.

Back To The Present
Out from the secret entrance to the building came the teenager, forced into leaving his blood drenched overcoat behind and only wearing his tank, exposing his muscular arms.

He heard voices and a loud racket from a near alley, and causally walked over there to round the corner, seeing an armed woman being attacked by armed men.

Harama could feel the spiritual pressure of Sachi Yamamura and flipped off the ground and onto his feet "Well, I may have left this place, but a duty is still a duty." He vanished in that instant with a huge flash step covering half the distance to where Sachi was at and with another he was there sitting above the group. He lept down and fell down ontop of one of the men felling him. He sat ontop of him "You know, its not nice picking on little ladies."

Echo sighed, feeling slight amusement out of the situation, and leaning against a dumpster to watch.

SPLURCH!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Having been the victim of Sachi's unsheathed blade, the first thug let out a scream as his chest was torn into two parts. His blood sprayed into the ground, and he could only step back once before he collapsed, now a lifeless doll.

"KILL HER!"

As if on cue, the pigs in guises lunged at her, knives twirlin'...

However, it was only one step that they got to.

''SHING! SHING! SHING!''

A dozen flashes of white rang and shook the air around both the thugs and the blonde woman, their chimes ringing in the spectator's ears like porch bells in the wind. It only lasted for five seconds, which afterwards, Sachi re-sheathed her blade and fastened it to her waist.

Like old paint, they all fell apart, guts and internal organs splashing onto the ground, and their bodies seperating into two halves. The entire alley seemed to be stained with a bright red, despite the fact that it was foggy out.

Sachi's only response: swinging her sword to get the blood off, then resheathing it as if nothing happened.

Echo felt a pang of regret for leaving his overcoat, now that he wasn't the only executioner of the day. He merely tilted his head, glimpsing past Harama at the bloodthirsty woman. "Beautiful tenchinique." He muttered.

Harama stood up from the man he had knocked out. He walked towards Sachi "You didnt need do that. They were weak thugs and didn't need to die. Theres no honor in fighting someone and killing them if they are weaker." He sorta didnt care but went with it anyway.

Her piercing gaze directed itself towards him, regarding him for a tense moment as she rested her hand on her hilt. Thankfully, she didn't look like she would draw it...yet. "If I didn't, what they would've done to me would've been far below honor." She replied. "Though, I suppose the both of you saw what was the matter?"

Echo finally spoke up, regretfully bored enough to attempt conversation. "You did what was necessary, if not you they would've victimized another being." He said, recalling the building he left full of unrecognizable corpses.

Harama shook his head "Good thing I left this place. To many things like this happen. I dont care for the way this place is governed anymore. Thugs like that should be stopped before they start." He sat down and started to just look up at the sky. He didnt really take interest in the others, but was bored enough to just make do with the clouds and talking to them.

"This group won't be doing anymore damage, then." Sachi said. "But, if I may ask, who are you two?"

Echo hesitated, but honestly needed some time spent on other things besides personified justice. For a mere second he regretted leaving hell, but then remembered exactly why he left and spoke suddenly. "You may call me simply Echo." His deep blue eyes shone brightly, and could easily be lost in, but within their depth rested a deep cunning, often dangerous.

Harama didnt care who knew him and who he knew so just said "Harama Usagi, I am a vizard, and you little miss are?"

In a moderately quick motion, Sachi bowed her head. "Yamamura Sachi." She said, whatever small hostility in her tone now disappeared, replaced by a mild politeness. "Pleased to meet you both, I suppose."

Relectuntly, Echo dipped his head in return, folding his arms. "The pleasure's all mine, Sachi."

"Well, arent you the little model of a arostacrat family. I bet its nice living in the big house while these people live out here in shambles." He never liked the higher ups like the royals, they seemed so stuck up to him and being from the rukon and working so hard to get out, he just never liked them.

His voice made Sachi gaze up at him, a slight frown on her face. "Oh?" She asked, with her own choice of sarcasm. "I suppose a commoner like you would enjoy being in my position, at least for a moment."

"Hmph." class made no difference to Echo, so this conversation had no meaning to him.

"Yea I am a commoner and damn proud of it. I worked harder then you could have imagined, for some time at least. However what matters is that those people deserve to live and learn from their wrong doings, not die like dogs." He was a bit mad and started to get more serious.

"And you insist on defending the people who strive to make others miserable..." Sachi muttered. "They made their choice, and they recieved their punishment. No use defending corpses."

"True, but you were in the wrong here, not just them. I know how these people feel better then you ever could. You almost have to do these things to get by, maybe not resorting to forcing yourself on a young woman, but theft is very common, all in order to have a drink of water or a crumb of bread, while you fat cats live it up in the seireitei. You may look cute but your of a disgusting kind of people."

"That's enough." spoke Echo, standing up straight. "What's done is done, she did what was necessary for her well being, and justice was dealt by her hand."

He didnt look over to echo "Justice is a fine word coming from someone who stinks so heavily of blood. What were you doing before you got over here?"

"Whatever it was..." The blonde interrupted, taking her time to walk past Harama and out of the alleyway. "should it be any of your concern? If you really care so much about those thieves, say a prayer for their safe passage to Hell."

"My kind of business would break your kind. Just as pathetic as the worthless sympathy you shed, life isn't about free passes. It's about action and consequence, and nothing more." spoke Echo, maintaining an essence of sincerity without the use of passion.

"A cut throat how nice" He said to each as he slightly turned to Sachi "What are you? Your not a soul reaper, yet you carry an obvious zanpuktuo."

"I'm not." She admitted, stopping her feet and looking over her shoulder. "But my father was."

"Hmm, a half-breed, how interesting." remarked Echo, his indifference lightly glazed with amusement.

"Half-breed? Which of us, her or me?" He walked over to the man he knocked out and rolled him out of the way of where the three were at "I got this strange feelin that somethings kinda off here."

This time, Sachi remained silent, although she pushed a strand of her long blode hair from her eye and looked at the man in question.

"Why would it possibly be you?" Echo didn't bother to glance at the man, instead resting his cold gaze towards the sky.

"Well, its not as if I am of one species am I? A shinigami with the power of a hollow, not exactly pure is it?" He noticed Sachi's silence "I guess that must have been directed towards you then. I wonder, if your father was a shinigami and your not a pure blood, then you must be adopted, either that or your an intruder, much like I could be considered one."

"You speak of the Shinigami as if they were an actual race." Sachi replied, tilting her head to the side a bit. "They are simply Pluses that were taught the ways of the Gotei 13. I'm not adopted, or an "intruder", as you put it."