| This article, Demon and Flower, is part of this site's Fanon Canon project(s), which may include Bleach: Extinction, Bleach Renascence, or The Coven War. Use of this page's contents is determined by the author of this page unless otherwise specified. |
|
This article, Demon and Flower, was added by Ash9876 who determines its usage on this wiki. |
|
This article, Demon and Flower, was added by ShonenChicoBoy who determines its usage on this wiki. |
The Bitter Cup[]
The gray of early morning enclosed upon the Rukongai like a thick glove. Fingers of mist caressed the rooftops, wound their way into and through the streets. Everything was calm and still, and the steel gray skies hung like a blanket from the washerwoman’s line: heavy, wet, but with the scent of soap replaced with that of the rain suspended in the air. The dark clouds brooded, waiting for the most opportune moment to burst open and drown the world below.
The city slept soundly as light dawned and spread softly through the fog, diffused and muted; and still an hour later it was barely brighter than it had been at the veiled sunrise. For that reason it seemed, none were eager to stir and be about their day. The streets were deserted, silent, peaceful. And through the dense stillness the melodic lullaby of a shamisen could be heard. The melancholic twang of the strings was interrupted only by the clacking of the plectrum as it struck the body of the instrument, and the man’s rough fingers were surprisingly agile as they glided over the fret board. Despite the thick mist there was a cool, gentle breeze pushing stroking the skin on his face, and even though his feet dangled precariously over the edge of the roof, he was completely absorbed in the melody, caring nothing for the world around him. He simply sat, and played, and tried to ignore the deep, burning pain that resided deep within his core.
It was a visceral, physical pain. Like a hundred knives had been driven into his heart and lungs and liver and sternum, and with every movement they were twisted deeper into his flesh, enough to halt his breathing and, eventually he feared, his heart.
The fever had started with a sudden viciousness roughly two weeks before, and even now he was soaked with sweat and trembling with unnatural tension as his body tried to fight off the inexplicable pain that had rooted itself in his insides. It felt like he was dying, slowly, excruciatingly, and he muttered vehement curses as he cradled the long, thin neck of the shamisen, gripping it more tightly than he should have.
To the north was the Seireitei. He could still recall the sight of it, with gleaming white walls and absurd golden roofs, all of which he reviled, although the image had faded into the muted pastel of years gone by. And yet, even though he hated it, and hated himself for doing so, his thoughts continued to turn to the Gotei 13. For how long had the indecent mass of false-faced war dogs been such an eyesore to him? He could not recall the exact number of years, nor why he had begun to hate them in the first place, except that they had and always would be his bitter enemy. And it was into that tomb of worm-infested corpses that he would be wading. Against his will, despite all his mistrust and hatred. There was simply no other alternative. No, perhaps he could wait a little longer…
A driving spasm in his heart gripped him without warning, causing him to snap the top string of the shamisen. He swore, spat, stood to his feet, and was almost overcome with a wave of dizzy nausea. He lost his balance on the uneven roof tiles, and instead of falling launched himself off the roof, where he dropped to the street below, landing in a crouch with the shamisen across his back. His geta made no noise on the damp earth as he half-walked, half-stumbled back to the bakuto parlor where he knew he would find relief from the pain, even though he knew it would be brief and relatively futile.
As soon as he pushed the curtain aside and set foot inside the dim, lifeless interior of the building, he collapsed against the doorframe. Even though it was barely six in the morning, there were a few men there already, smoking and playing idly at dice as they waited for one of the gang’s “sisters” to bring them breakfast.
“O-Oniisama!” One of them exclaimed, finally spotting him. The men immediately abandoned their game and rushed to his side, and two of them wrapped his arms around their shoulders to support him.
“Bring me, Rana,” he muttered darkly. “Now.” his voice was thick and barely audible, the constraint a threat of itself.
“U-understood.” One of the men ran off, taking off down the street at a hard sprint, while the others carried him down beneath the main building, into one of the cool, dark rooms that had been set aside for storage. There he lay, stretched out and breathing weakly as the minutes dragged by. Without a word the others left him be. This had happened before, and they intimately knew what was to be done even without speaking: one of them had a missing hand as proof of how they had learned that lesson.
At last the medicine woman came, carrying her heavy cabinet on her back as always, and this time she herself was carried on the back of the runner. She entered the room alone, and he sat up on his own, sliding his arms out of his sleeves so his chest was bare.
“Hurry, woman.” he told her roughly as he crossed his legs and placed his hands, with the wrists up-turned, on his lap.
“Yes yes,” she snapped irritably as she opened the tall, narrow box and began to pull out an assortment of herbs and potions. He listened to her work, and as soon as a steaming bowl of a drug he could not name was placed in front of him, began to breathe deeply. In the meantime she scraped the ends of her long bone needles against a stone to sharpen them, and dipped them into an acrid-smelling medicine.
The first two were always the most painful. Taking one of his arms in her cold, bony hands, she pierced the skin above the wrist and, carefully, quickly, pushed the needle all the way in until it had stopped to just below his elbow. She repeated the process with the other arm, then inserted shorter needles down the length of his spine. He continued to breathe deeply the entire time, unperturbed as the pain of treatment was far less than that of the symptoms. Rana began to murmur a low chant, and he let the words swirl around him until they bled and ran together, merging into one.
And then, at that moment, he knew he could not live like this any longer.
An hour later he climbed the steps back to the main floor of the bakuto parlor, followed by Rana and her clattering medicine chest. Although he still felt weak, the pain had subsided to a somewhat bearable level, but at this rate, he knew he did not have long before it came again with certain vengeance.
“Well then,” he addressed the men who had been waiting for him to surface. “I want ya to gather every man in the district and such-and-such. Ya’re goin’ to bring them here, and we’re goin’ to have a meeting. Real exceptional meeting, in one hour. Ya get what I’m sayin’?”
They gave the affirmative in unison, and most of them left at once. He himself had his own preparations to make before then, and so left the parlor for his own quarters.
There was not much to be done, as he did not own much, and had never needed much. Besides the sleeping mat and small floor heater which were the only other effects in the room, the entirety of his personal possessions were contained in one chest against the wall. With an air of finality he chose what he would bring with him: His sword, which he had not carried with him that morning, as was typical, his case of tobacco and kiseru, his shamisen, and his favorite deck of cards and dice. Weighted and marked, of course. A blind man needed every advantage he could get when gambling, after all. Although where he was going, he was not sure how many chances he would get to play, if at all. He decided to keep them anyway, for sentimental reasons.
At last, he pulled out a brilliantly embroidered, full-length yukata. The design featured dragons and phoenixes, with a thick hem and fine silk weave. It was the best piece of clothing he owned, and now it would be the only one. He had been told that it was black, with red edging and bright gold embroidery, which is why he had bought it to begin with. It would strike an imposing picture, he hoped. He tied a thick red obi around his waist so the yukata was just below his knees, and tightened the cloth bindings that kept an even pressure around his abdomen, which served to lessen the constant, burning pain. Slinging both his sword and his shamisen over his shoulder, he left for the meeting.
He arrived early, and used the time to discuss the last of the details with his “right hand man.” Kissaki had been named simply and aptly for the cutting tip of a sword, and he placed his upmost confidence in her. She was strong-willed and practical, and was more than capable of leading a small-scale gang operation such as the Takaha gang on her own. While he had never had any romantic sentiment towards her, he wondered now if he should have tried to win her for himself. Most already believed they had at least slept together, considering the close confidence they placed in each other, but now he would never get that chance. But, it could not be helped, and Kissaki was now the kumicho—the tiger of Takaha. They had discussed the possibly of him leaving at length before, of course, and now there was very little left to say except the obligatory transfer of power from one kumicho to the next. It was ironic, as it was the first peaceful turnover the Takaha gang had ever seen, and probably would ever see, and had come about at the hands of its undeniably most violent leader.
Eventually the rest of the gang gathered in front of the bakuto parlor as ordered, and they were somewhat shocked to see him in his full finery and carrying his tachi. Without pleasantries or hesitation, he turned to the crowd and began. “Kissaki is yer new kumicho. If any dumb ass wants to challenge that, I’ll clobber im’ personally.” There was no response. The rumors had been circulating through the ranks, and his abdication was therefore not a complete surprise.
“All right.” He said, drawing a line in the dirt with the front of his sandal. “I mean to go to the Seireitei,” he stated bluntly. “Any of you who want to come with me had best step over this line.” The men gaped at him in stunned silence, and for a long moment no one stirred or made a sound.
Then, at last, slow, rattling footsteps approached and slowly made their way to his side. It was Rana. He was shocked to say the least, and her appearance was both a reassurance and an insult. He would question her motives later, but for now he was glad she was one who would come. After all, she was not known as “Rana of the Salamander” for nothing, and he was certain poison would have at least some use in the Seireitei.
“Why are you going there?” one of the men asked uneasily. “Is it an invasion?”
Hein Ueda barked a rough laugh.
“Ain’t that goin’ for nothing. I ain’t plannin’ to do anything so terrible dull, or such-and-such.” and a wide grin spread across his face.
“Ya see, I intend on becomin’ a Captain.”
The Plague[]
Thunder rolled in the distance as the group of fourteen approached the South Gate of the Seireitei. At first, upon leaving Takaha, people had scattered at his approach, knowing all too well who he was and what he could do should he just so happen to stop and ask them the time of day. But gradually, as they neared the center of the city-mass, he noted that the residents did not recoil from him. And if they did recognize him, they were not uneasy about his presence, at least from what he could sense. Perhaps they mistakenly thought the shadow of the Gotei 13 was protecting them.
There were many people here, even though it was still early in the morning.
“Do you regret leaving?” Rana had, for some reason, decided to ask him as they had crested the hill that marked the end of Takaha District. He had not replied, simply brushing her aside sullenly, and yet he had allowed her to trail behind him the entire way.
Of course he regretted it. Especially now, as he stood in front of the open gate that lead to the Seireitei. The giant that had once guarded it had long ago been killed off in the war against the Quincy, or so he had been told, and now only a small retinue of Shinigami stood guard at the gatehouse. They posed no challenge whatsoever, of course, but still the twelve men who decided against their better logic to come with him drew back.
“Dumb-asses.” he muttered. He drew closer to the guardhouse with a casual swagger, and the Shinigami did not at first perceive him as a threat. But at last one of them must have realized who he was, and sounded the alarm, calling the other guards to attention. They rushed to intercept him, drawing their swords and taking up stances as they hedged him in. Of course he had made sure he was far inside the courtyard by the time they reached their positions, it would be unfortunate if they decided to close the gate, after all.
“Halt!” the squad leader ordered with impressive force.
“Those are terrible rough manners ya’ve got there,” he answered smoothly. “Is that anyway to be treatin’ a visitor?”
“We know who you are, and you’re not taking a step further.” the man answered. “Citizens are prohibited from carrying swords, also from entering the Seireitei without a permit. Furthermore, there is a warrant out for your arrest, if you are indeed Hein Ueda.” he spoke eloquently enough, but was exuding fear, and Hein’s patience was wearing thin.
“Don’t matter who I am, and leastways if I am Ueda-han or so-and-so yer goose is real cooked.” he pointed at the man who had delivered the speech. “Now then, I want ya to take me to the Head Captain. Exceptional important, ya see. And I’m feelin’ terrible rough, so I wouldn’t get in my way, if I were you.”
Hein moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, and began to pull it from the scabbard. The Shinigami, already on-edge, reacted as he had intended them to, attacking in an instant and without a word. He smiled and, in a blur had moved through the entire regiment. The first man he sent flying with a fist to the stomach, then he turned and dropped the second to the ground with a kick to the face, and slammed his elbow into the jugular of the third attacker. The fourth he sent flying backwards with a shin to the chest. The man barreled into the Shinigami behind him, and both were incapacitated in the crash. Now only the leader remained, who had managed to get behind him in the chaos and was now bringing his Zanpakutō straight towards Hein’s skull. With a deft turn he dodged the blade and for a brief moment was air-born. He brought his fought down hard on the man’s shoulder, and he dropped his sword. Before he could move further, Hein grabbed him by the front of his kosode, twisted it painfully tight, and lifted him off the ground.
“I don’t like repeatin’ myself.” he growled. “Now are ya goin’ to take me to the Head Captain, or am I goin’ to have to cut ya to pieces first?” the Shinigami was too busy struggling against his grasp to reply, and, spitting with disgust, Hein hurled him head-long into the wall. He slammed into it full-force, and his limp body thudded to the ground weakly.
“Pathetic.” He straightened up, and instead turned to the individual who had approached from outside the gate— who had been there the whole time and had borne witness to the entire altercation. “I hope yer more reasonable than these terrible rough excuses of men.”
“Who are you, and what is your purpose here?” the Shinigami asked brusquely, calmly. Hein could tell he was high ranking, possibly a Third Seat or Lieutenant, simply gauging by his level of Reiatsu alone. There was a hawk seated on his shoulder, and had obviously just finished a hunt as it was still picking blood and bits of fresh meat from its feathers. The Shinigami smelled of carnage, and while he normally would have relished this, it only served to worsen the headache that had begun ever since the effects of the hallucinogen he had taken had worn off.
“Like I said, it don’t matter who I am. I’m here to pay a visit to Kyoraku-han. Mind showin’ me the way?”
“You expect me to simply capitulate and agree to such an outrageous request?” it was not stated as a question. “I’m afraid you are mistaken—you are under arrest.” The Shinigami said bluntly.
“Is that so?” Hein was growing tired of dealing with underlings, but without warning the Shinigami had appeared in front of him with a rather impressive use of Shunpo, and his drawn sword was resting lightly on his shoulder, as if begging to cut into his neck.
“Do not try to resist,” the swordsman continued evenly, “If you do I will strike without hesitation.”
Hein hissed out through his teeth and grasped the blade with his hand, then shot his other fist into the center of the Shinigami’s chest. He was thrown backwards, but somehow managed to twist around in mid-air and land on his feet. He did not pause to consider his injury, instead leveling his sword to the side so it was parallel to the ground and rushing towards him again. He did not use Shunpo this time, and Hein grinned as he formed a fist. The next blow could very well be fatal, if left unchecked.
Both adversaries swung at the same time.
"There is a disturbance." A thought occurred in the mind of a Shinigami who had been seated in his desk and taking care of paperwork. There was a flare of spiritual energy and plenty of loud cries in the distance, albeit near his barracks. There was no hesitation within this man's actions, who stood up and only needed to take half a step before displacing himself from the area, leaving behind a small gust of wind in his wake which, almost miraculously, didn't cause the parchments of paper on his desk to become disoriented. Within the air, the man flew briefly in a straight line, his white hakama and black hair fluttering as he did so. The sense of increasing hostility caused the man to briefly stop on a nearby roof before leaping off with greater force, creating a small shockwave in his wake as he reached the scene that required his attention.
With little more than a moment passing, the man reached at the center of the ensuing conflict, looking at it from a distance. With nothing more than a swipe of his left hand outwards, he collected the energy necessary to form two orange, cubical barriers that prevented the two combatants from finishing their respective movements, pushing them back due to the repulsive force within the barrier. "Both of you, stand down." His authoritative tone brought about a sense of calmness to the lower level Shinigami, although his gaze did anything but. "Lieutenant Sakuma, what is the meaning of this? Sheath your zanpakutō this instant." The man ordered with authority to the younger one who had drawn his blade. "And you, who dares to interfere with the tranquility of Soul Society. Who are you and what is the meaning of this chaos?"
“Of course Captain Kuchiki,” the subordinate said as he put away his blade. “Please forgive my stepping out of line. I had attempted to apprehend that man there when he attacked me.”
Hein ignored the Lieutenant and turned towards the newcomer, baring his teeth in an unpleasant grin. “S’ that so? Interferin’ seems to be what ya’re doin’ there, otchan.” he said. “I ain’t causin’ any chaos here, ya should tell these dumb-asses to at least let a man talk ‘fore they go and attack im.’” he gestured to the bodies of the prone Shinigami lying around him. “Ah, but what the hell. Don’t matter leastways.”
There was a sudden screeching as the barrier of glowing kidō around Hein disintegrated into pieces, and his grin widened. Needless to say, he was feeling much better. The fever was almost completely gone, and he could feel his own power begin to surge within him. It had been a singular pulse of that rising spiritual pressure that had shattered the barrier, and his mood was beginning to rise as well. He was becoming himself again. How many months had it been?
“The name’s Hein Ueda, and like I’ve been sayin’ this whole time, I’m her to speak with the Head Captain.” He paused, then pointed towards the Captain. “Well then, are ya goin’ to take me there, or am I goin’ to have to clobber you like I did the rest of these shit-bad Shinigami? Terrible indecent way to go 'bout it, if ya ask me.”
The man, identified as Captain Byakuya Kuchiki, looked away from his lieutenant and paid attention to the foreign element who had just disintegrated his Kidō barrier. "Kidō negation?" Byakuya thought briefly, before returning to the matter at hand. He walked to his Lieutenant's position, hovering his hand over the barrier as it soon disintegrated calmly before returning his gaze onto the man with the black yukata. "We don't allow strangers to nonchalantly speak to our authorities. Explain your reasons, Hein Ueda." Byakuya demanded, with cautious eyes that the man before him couldn't see.
“Well then, now that ya finally start askin,’ my reasons are terrible simple otchan— I’m here to become one of yer Captains, or such-and-such.” he answered. “Does that put it real clear for ya?”
The moment he mentioned the word "Captain", Byakuya's face almost surged with irritation, though he quickly suppressed the contempt he had for this man. His tone and status were completely unfitting for the position. Nevertheless, he had no other alternative than to take him to the Head Captain, for the Gotei 13 was in dire need of reinforcements. "Follow me." The man said dismissively, before he turned around and began to walk towards the barracks of the Head Captain.
"Captain, sir.” The Lieutenant interrupted. “I understand you are following orders, but this man is a wanted criminal. He could be here for any reason, how can we trust him?”
"We don't." Byakuya responded dismissively. "We keep an eye on the man until he swears his loyalty. Should he cause any further disruption, he shall be promptly punished. That is the law we uphold." The Captain hadn't once turned back as he said those words, continuing to move towards the Head Captain's barracks.
"Understood," the other Shinigami said as he fell in line behind Hein, watching the man closely with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Yer Lieutenant has a point there, otchan," Hein said as he followed after Byakuya, his geta clacking noisily across the stone courtyard. "Loyalty is cheap. Terrible rough, but it's the real way of the world, ain't it so?"
His thirteen followers did not seem to think so, as they faithfully trailed behind at a close distance.
Byakuya heard footsteps beyond the clacking of Hein's geta and paused. He turned his head around slightly, his gaze meeting Hein and his gang members' own. "Your followers must leave these grounds. They are not applying to join the Gotei 13, only you are. Request their departure before action is taken against them." Byakuya told the man promptly, uncaring of the feelings of Hein's followers.
"S' that so?" Hein asked. "Who said they weren't applyin'? That's goin' for nothing, if ya ask me. I'll speak for my men: every last one of em' is comin' with me. I ain't just goin' to up and wade right into your camp alone, terrible rough idea that is. 'Cause ya see otchan, while ya may not be puttin' a whole lot of stock into me, I ain't goin' to start trustin' you anytime soon either. Ain't that real?" he said.
Byakuya despised making exceptions to the law. He found it an abominable thing to do. However, in this case, he was forced to recline for the sake of the Soul Society. He had witnessed a glimpse of this man's power first-hand and, upon recollection, he quickly determined that his spiritual power was at least worthy of mention, even if every other aspect of him was detestable.
"Fine," is all that Byakuya could respond with. "Consider yourself eternally indebted for this favor." The man concluded his statement, as he silently walked forward, his presence forcing everyone who was in his path out of his way. The 1st Division's barracks were getting closer and, by this point, the Head Captain should have heard the news from a member of the Inner Court Troop constantly patrolling the Seireitei's grounds.
"Sir, we should at least divert the group here," the Lieutenant suggested, "It would be unwise to bring all of them to the First Division Headquarters."
"Take them to the Sixth Division Headquarters and ensure they are kept-for appropriately." Byakuya responded affirmatively.
"Sounds all right," Hein cut in, "But Rana is stayin' with me." he said, referring to the old woman with the medicine cabinet on her back. It was difficult to see how the gang leader expected any of his men to become shinigami, but he had been adamant, and his request had been granted. It was highly unusual, and only served to deepen his unease over the situation. He was wary, and was at least grateful that the pain in his chest had begun to rapidly subside ever since reaching the Seireitei. He needed to be fully alert, on guard at all times. He could not and would not allow himself to trust these people. Not by any means.
Byakuya took a glance at the woman that Hein referred to by the name Rana. He quickly took note of the medicine cabinet and put the dots together. "Do as he says, Lieutenant Sakuma." Byakuya stated to his lieutenant, "A candidate for Captaincy must be in prime health."
"Sir," with that the Lieutenant and train of "former" gang members took their leave, leaving the three of them alone.
"Hey now otchan, what gives ya the idea that I ain't in prime condition?" Hein smiled pleasantly. "I'm feelin' exceptional, never better." There was a subtle, thick threat behind his voice. He was testing the other man, gauging what his reaction would be, all while trying to stall for time and pass off a casual demeanor while feeling anything but.
Underneath the cold and calm demeanor that Byakuya maintained during this 'conversation', Byakuya's contempt for the man became increasingly obvious through his tone. "Be warned, Captains do not carry company who feed them medicine." His response was blunt, with so little emotion that not even a glance was given to the potential threat that stood behind him; his blindspot.
"Ol' Rana? I wouldn't be underestimatin' her if I were you, that's for sure." Hein sneered. "After all, ya can never be too sure 'bout what might show up in the sake one day."
After a considerable distance, the small party had finally reached the other side of the Seireitei. Near the center of the secluded city, the first division barracks loomed from an even ground of white gravel, and the red lacquer framing contrasted starkly with the golds and whites predominate in the rest of the buildings' design. This was, of course, invisible to Hein, but he could nonetheless tell by the sheer size of the place that the structures were impressive.
Byakuya led them down a long, covered hall of smooth wood before they at last stood before the doors leading to the Head Captain's main office.
"We have reached the 1st Division's Barracks. Here you will find Head Captain Shunsui Kyouraku." Byakuya stated. "He appears to be expecting us." Byakuya told the pair, as the Captain walked into the compound with the pair behind him.
"Do ya think I'm blind or something?" Hein asked, the sarcasm in his voice obvious, although it was tinged with bitterness.
"Ah, Captain Kuchiki~" An almost reedy voice could be heard in the distance; it was the sound of a relaxed man. "Are these our guests?" He asked, although from the tone of his voice it was obvious that he knew the answer.
"Shit-bad way to treat a couple of guests, if ya ask me." Hein grumbled to himself.
"Now now, what's all this about?" the Head Captain asked easily.
"Kyouraku." Byakuya referred to the Head Captain with surprising informality despite their difference in rank, "This man wishes to become a Captain of the Gotei 13." Byakuya quickly stated the purpose of Hein being here. "That is all there is to this affair."
"Oh?" the man raised his eyebrow as he peered more closely at the newcomers. "Well we do have quite a few openings for those positions." he yawned. "What's your name there?"
"Hein Ueda, since ya're wantin' to know so bad."
A Shinigami who was standing by the desk, appearing to be an assistant, leaned over to whisper something to Kyouraku, who listened impassively to what she told him before waving her away with a lazy gesture.
"So I hear from my assistant that you're one of the guys who likes to cause a ruckus in the Rukon Districts," he said plainly. "Whatcha want to be a Captain for?"
"I've got my reasons otchan, but they don't matter none." Hein answered coolly. "Seems to me like what's more important here is the fact that, if ya don't start boostin' yer numbers terrible quick, yer goose will be real cooked. And that's goin' for nothing. Ain't that right? The way I see it, is you need to get your hands on power, plain and simple. I'm offerin' you that power. Are ya gonna take it, or leave it?"
"Mmmm..." The man had pondered for a moment, his fingers stroking his chin as he did so. "Well, you got me there," The Head Captain quickly admitted Hein's deduction, "If you're offering, we can't deny... that is if you're cards are where your bets are at, so to speak." he traced a finger through the air. "Thing is, you've got to prove that you've got that power. Normally people don't just waltz on in here and demand to be made a Captain, you've got to show something for it, hard work, as the old man used to say."
Hein crossed his arms. "Sounds all right, otchan. What do ya want me to prove?"
Kyouraku cast his gaze to the ceiling, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. "Well, that would have to be... your Bankai, of course." he tapped a stack of papers that were sitting on his desk. "We've already got a lot of information on you here. You've obviously got some talent in making people do what you want, seeing as how you're a gang leader and all." he cleared his throat. "But, still, you've got to back up all those rumors now, don't you? That is a Zanpakuto, isn't it?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"Well then," the Head Captain clapped his hands together, "I suppose no time like present. How about we get started right away?"
Hein did not reply at once. Instead he sighed and moved head from side to side to crack his neck.
"Yeah, sounds exceptional." he said. "Only problem is... I ain't got a Bankai or such-and-such. Never had. And I don't need one either, if ya catch my meaning."
"Really now? That's a bit of a problem..." Shunsui noted, scratching what little of his head he could reach underneath his straw hat. "Seems we have to break convention somehow. Got any ideas?"
There was a long moment of silence as Hein gave a dead stare to the man before him before the veins on his forehead began to bulge. Without warning he strode across the room and slammed his foot down on the low-lying table in front of Kyoraku.
"Listen here otchan," he growled. "If ya think ya're bein' clever or such-and-such, well you ain't. Right now ya just smell stupid. Obviously, if I'm goin' to be a Captain, all I have to do is be able to beat a Captain. Ain't that so?"
"Hmm... Kuchiki-san." The man, almost ignoring Hein's statements, referred to the other Captain who stood silently in the room observing the events. "Since you're in charge, whatcha think we should do about this dilemma?"
Given that Byakuya listened to the entire conversation that went on in his presence, the situation was fully contextualized to the man. Closing his eyes for a moment, he opened them once again and responded, "Trial by Combat is plausible," However, Byakuya was silent for a moment. "However, we cannot afford death by any means."
“Ha, ain’t that a terrible indecent thing to say.” Hein cut back in. “Do ya think I smell stupid or something? When you say you can’t afford death, ya only mean you and the rest of the vermin lyin’ around this shit-bad place.” he growled. “Who do ya take me for? I wasn’t born yesterday. Even if I swore I wouldn’t finish ya, I sure as hell can’t expect the same promise from you, otchan.” And this time he was referring to Byakuya.
"Despite what your perception of me might suggest, I do not engage in mindless murder." Byakuya responded, glaring at the man due to his irritation by the man's accusations. "I would assume three Captain-level witnesses would be required to judge the capabilities of this man in combat." Byakuya referred to Shunsui, "Including ourselves, we only require one more Captain to attend this examination."
"Still smells terrible rough to me," Hein grumbled. "Ya got anything to show for that word of yers? I'm a terrible real hard-sell." he said, obviously unhappy. "And now yer pilin' on the numbers. Goin' for nothing, if ya ask me."
"Is there a suggestion that you can come up with, then, since you consider yourself to be such a veteran of conflict?" Byakuya questioned he man, quite obviously irritated by his antics despite his calm exterior.
"Yeah, a terrible real suggestion," Hein grinned. "How 'bout I clobber ya right now?" he said as his hand moved to his sword.
"Now now." Shunsui clapped his hands together softly, "Let's not get violent, shall we?" The man requested, although there was an ominous aura coming from his position. "So, three Captains is it, Byakuya-san?" Shunsui pondered for a moment, once more stroking his unshaven chin. "I trust your judgement. But who are we gonna ask? Everyone's always so busy..." Shunsui almost moaned like a little child, an act he constantly kept up. "I'm really no good at this sort of thing... everyone's so intimidating, y'know?" he folded his arms and sank onto his desk, placing a thing piece of straw that had appeared from nowhere in his mouth to chew on it thoughtfully.
Hein opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver yet another cutting remark, when Kyouraku straightened up suddenly, the light of an idea in his eyes.
"Ah, what about your cousin, Kuchiki-san?" he asked. "I'm sure he'd be a good candidate. He's got a pretty good head on his shoulders. Not to mention you could use it as an excuse for a little family bonding time. What do you say?"
"I agree." Byakuya responded with a matter-of-fact tone, keeping his body language as still as it always was. Despite the political and personal differences that put him at odds with his cousin, there was an undeniable sense of respect between the two clansmen that prevented any form of conflict between them. "When is an appropriate time to conduct the trial?" Byakuya questioned Shunsui, given that he spearheaded the recruitment operations.
"Well," Shunsui shrugged and turned his attention to the dreary gray blanket that still hung outside. "I don't think the weather will improve any so," the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile. "Let's say as long as it takes for a cup of sake, shall we?" he offered warmly. "I'm sure Kazuya-san will be here by then."
The Perdition of Rain[]
As the afternoon crept upon them, the weather gradually worsened. The sky was thick and dark now, and heavy with mist that served to softly diffuse the ashen light. There was no uncertainty now. With a grim acceptance the earth itself accepted that it would rain, and electric energy seemed to seep from the pores in the ground, simply waiting for the inevitable, reaching out towards the heaven to embrace its fate.
Gentle thunder rolled in the distance as five individuals approached the training grounds.
It was a prodigious location, and a notorious one. The area was large and flat, situated in the bottom of the basin formed by the surrounding, low, rolling hills. A stadium had been constructed into the sides of these hills, tight-packed red bricks forming a steep slope of steps. The steps were lined at the top and bottom with thick bands of gray stone, and while the structure appeared sturdy, if one looked closely they could see the fissures and gaps that had grown amongst the stonework over the years. The stadium formed a long rectangle, and the floor of the training ground was cut in an even grid pattern by large stone slabs, the cracks choked with weeds that threatened to overgrow the place. The location’s most notable feature, however, was the tall, square tower that sagged wearily on the north end of the field.
While the grounds had once serviced as a place where shinigami could test themselves against each other, it had long since fallen into disuse. The stadium had been constructed so fellow division members could observe such demonstrations, although the true purpose of the tower remained an enigma. Perhaps it had once been where judges had stood, presiding over the combatants below. Nevertheless, the considerable distance from the central part of the Seireitei, along with a host of other factors, had led to its eventual abandonment, and it had become even more forgotten in the years after the war.
Those who now trespassed upon its dead solitude seemed like ghosts, faint apparitions that emerged from the gray.
Byakuya had led the way, followed by the others with the Head Captain strolling along behind in a nonchalant manner, yawning at frequent intervals. The only sounds besides the quiet shuffling of their footsteps and the murmurs of far-away thunder were the clattering of the medicine cabinet on the woman’s back and the even clacking of Hein’s geta across the hard ground.
The group finally came to a halt at the base of the tower. Hein threw his hands behind his head as he arched his spine backwards.
“Terrible dull place ya got here, otchan,” he said, addressing no one in particular. “Exceptional indecent. The place is a dump, or such-and-such.” He turned his attention towards the training ground and snorted. “Don’t matter, I ‘spose, since it’ll get clobbered leastways.”
He would not admit this to anyone, not even Rana who had probably noticed it since he had arrived at the southern gate to the Seireitei, but his skin was still burning with an unhealthy heat, and he felt weak and light-headed as he slowly came out of the haze of fever. Although he was no longer in pain, the illness had beset him for two weeks, and its effects where not so easily cast aside. He simply hoped he would be able to recover enough energy before the fighting began in earnest. Thus, the pass at small talk was simply a thinly veiled attempt to stall.
With a single step, Kazuya had traversed the entirety of the Seireitei and now stood in front of the fallen tower, facing the training grounds. He'd been delayed by a group of criminals, presumably allied with this Hein Ueda, a heartless criminal who had terrorized the Rukon districts for a long time, his acts of violence had reached even the ears of the Kuchiki. Once he found them, he'd expelled them forcefully through a powerful Tenran spell, flinging them out of the gates and back into the mud where they so belonged. To think that his own flesh of blood, the head of his clan had stooped so low as to tolerate their presence was beyond him. Since when had his cousin lost his backbone to this degree?
He took another step, and now he was standing besides his cousin, turning his gaze upon him, he directed all of his disdain, all of his fury and disappointed into a single long look as their eyes briefly met, before turning his eyes upon the criminal in question. His features became more relaxed, as though he considered his own cousin to be the individual least worthy of his respect in that brief moment. Although his face was relaxed, there was an icy chill to it all the same, and his grey eyes were hard and cold; and when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was like velvet-covered steel.
"Hein Ueda. Don't get the wrong impression, you've been given a much greater welcome than your kind ever deserved, but you're still a criminal. Consider this your trial, for when you fail, I shall execute you myself. This I swear on my honor as a Kuchiki." With that, the 9th Division Captain stepped away from the two, relocating himself to the sidelines to observe what he hoped would be a one-sided slaughter in Byakuya's favor.
Byakuya stood silent as his cousin had entered the fray. It was understood between the both of them that Byakuya's actions, as a member of the Kuchiki Clan, would have been completely against the law. In fact, if any other member of his clan had done such a thing, they would be expelled. But the Kuchiki Clan Head was not acting upon his personal feelings. He was acting as a member of the Gotei 13, as a Captain. As a personal witness to the conflict within the previous Quincy Blood War, he understood fully the necessity for power to rule; status could not be considered in any way an indication of that.
As Kazuya drifted away from Byakuya, the man said nothing that was unnecessary. He took a single step and appeared within the center of the arena, where the combat would undoubtedly occur. His back straight, his gaze fiery underneath the still grey, Byakuya knew very well that this was not a simple trial, despite what his cousin had amounted it to. It was far more than that. It was a battle for not only the Gotei 13, but for his own self-respect. With all that he conveyed through his eyes, Byakuya found no need to do anymore. So he returned to his apathetic self, awaiting for this trial to begin.
“Well then,” Hein threw his arms out to the sides, shaking them to loosen up his muscles. A wide grin had once again spread across his face, revealing a gleaming row of white teeth that glinted sardonically in the dim light.
But before he could move Rana caught him on the corner of his sleeve.
“What do ya want, obahan?” he asked her with a low tone. She simply shook her head, which he could her by the rustling of her hair over coarse cloth.
“Dump it.” he said, shrugging her off. “I ain’t feelin’ rough for anything ‘cept this fight, ya hear?”
She backed off, and Hein leapt from the platform to the training ground below. He landed hard, enough to send a shockwave rippling through the ground towards the Captain before him. He then straightened up, threw his hands into the sash around his waist and casually sauntered towards his opponent.
“All right otchan.” he stated. “I’m goin’ to throw out some stipulates here, ‘cause otherwise this fight‘d be goin’ for nothin.’ Ain’t it so?” He formed a tight fist with his right hand and held it out evenly in front of his chest. “And since ya never told me one way or the other whether I can be trustin’ ya or not, I’d say yer expectin’ for me to draw the short end of the straw here.” He spat to the side. “Ain’t goin’ to happen. And leastways I don’t trust anyone, shit-bad way to go about life, if ya ask me. Terrible indecent.” He paused as he sized up Byakuya quietly for a moment, then continued. “So, here’s the deal.” he said, pointing his thumb towards the stoic Captain.
“If I force ya to yer knee, I win this ruckus. Terrible reasonable, wouldn’t ya say?” he drew his thumb across his throat in a threatening gesture.
As the shockwave rippled outward, the Captain's Shihakushō blew in the wind, with dust picking up around him. "Foolish." Byakuya responded harshly, "With your ability, you will find it impossible to even do that." Those words, despite being not a direct affirmation, were evidently those that accepted Hein's challenge. Soon, he placed his hand on the hilt of Senbonzakura, clutching it and awaiting for the first move to be made.
“Well then, ‘bout time to start this, wouldn’t ya say?” Hein’s grin widened. His spiritual pressure began to increase, but only slightly. It was a subtle threat, and one that was matched by Byakuya himself.
Just then, the sky began to shed its dense moisture, and a blanket of rain enveloped them, deadening all sound as it softly pelted into the ground.
The time had come at last.
The Gauntlet[]
Within the expanse of five heartbeats, Hein breathed out evenly. He had drawn strength from the calming rain around him, and now exhaled it in a white cloud.
That was as long as he hesitated.
He slammed his foot into the ground, forming another crater. But this time rubble flew up in the air from the force of the strike, and with uncanny precision he swung his fist, three times, and sent shards of broken earth hurtling towards his adversary. He hoped to occupy Byakuya with the makeshift projectiles, and within that brief window he moved. He took one step— and was there. He was crouching right below Byakuya, as if bowing down in mockery before the Captain and, an instant later the orientation of his body had changed entirely as his foot shot up towards the chin. Hein’s body followed the momentum of the blow, if Byakuya was carried upwards either to dodge or from the impact of the hit, Hein travelled into the air as well. That attack was intended to land the moment after the projectiles had, and knock him from his feet. This time he brought his other leg towards his head, fully intending to throw him down into the ground, to crush bone and shatter confidence.
Each movement was executed with jarring fluidity, and highly concentrated Reiatsu surged beneath his skin, imbuing his limbs with incredible speed and power. If one looked closely, the could catch the faint wisps of what appeared to be flames seeping from his foot as he had brought it up towards Byakuya’s chin, seemingly to propel him with even greater speed into the air. And now, as the second attack arched towards the side of Byakuya’s head his entire shin surged for an instant with a fiery aura, singeing the very rain around him. But whatever it had been died in an instant, suddenly subdued or vanished, belying the fact that it had been harnessed to increase the amount of sheer force.
Byakuya stood impassively in the face of the shockwave, carefully observing the rubble in the air that would soon be followed by stone projectiles. Focusing on the small projectiles that mattered, the Captain shifted the position of his head an inch to his right, avoiding the projectiles. Suddenly, Hein's position was beneath Byakuya's — as it should have been. But before the man could counter, Hein had begun to lift his leg upward. In response, Byakuya tilted his head backwards, avoiding the trajectory of the attack. Soon after, he lifted the ball of his right foot, taking only a step as his body almost shimmered away from his position, appearing a notable distance away from Hein's first attack.
He momentarily witnessed Hein continuing into his second attack, before immediately lifting his foot and taking another step. This time, he intended to take the offensive. Using Hein's aerial position as a sign of him being open to attack, Byakuya had, without any warning, appeared behind the man after bypassing Hein's left. Without any delay, he drew his blade and attempted to rapidly impale him at his Saketsu and Hakusui, ending the match therein should his attack be successful.
Hein had not expected Byakuya to fall back so far, considering his first attack lacked emphasis, intended only to cause the opponent to move. And move he had. Still, although it appeared as though Hein was foolishly attacking nothing but thin air, he sensed as the Captain moved in for the kill.
He had never lost track of Byakuya, not even for an instant. The Captain’s high level of Reiatsu was sending subtle, steady waves of pressure in a constant sea of signals into Hein’s head, a slight, throbbing pressure in the center of his forehead. Each time he moved the vibrations shifted, like fish disrupting deep currents as they swam. Even as he descended, gravity carrying him back towards the earth, he knew where Byakuya was, and had been, and could even gauge where he was coming from.
Although Hein's second attack had been entirely hypothetical, it had played out exactly as he had gambled on, and would have worked to his advantage— except for one slight miscalculation.
Hein had swung with his left leg; the same side that Byakuya now took advantage of. His position was impossible, and he could no longer use the kick to attack. At the same time, he felt a shivering in the atmosphere around him, and a blade was suddenly thrusting towards him, imbued with murderous intent.
But no, there were not one but two blades, falling so fast after the other that they seemed to strike simultaneously. One from the front, one from behind.
So this was its secret, hidden in folds of blinding speed.
But Hein could sense them still.
The first blade came towards his heart, and the second one was lower, aimed at the small of his back, to the left of the spine. To avoid the latter he simply adjusted his speed slightly, following after the momentum from his kick to move out of the path of the blade’s tip. But the first strike he was forced to move his arm up, blocking it from beneath and throwing it up to redirect it away from his vitals. The blade still slide across the skin on his shoulder, and now the scent of blood was added to the thick world of sensory information that surrounded him.
He should have just dodged, but now he was close. Close enough to draw his sword with his free hand and, even though he was still falling through the air, he flicked the tip of the sword behind him, bringing his right arm all the way around to catch the Captain off guard. Sight might have impeded him in this case, but as it were he could direct the tip of the blade so that it headed directly towards Byakuya’s throat, despite the sword being behind him.
And as soon as the steel drew a red line across flesh, he was ready to spring, primed to move with intense speed, even re-directing his current path of motion to counter the reaction of his adversary.
But again, as before, he was making another gamble.
Byakuya, despite noticing his initial attack failed, was not discouraged. His sword arm, flung upwards due to Hein's interference, leaving his position open. At that point, Hein's attempt to slash Byakuya's throat was something the man didn't expect given Hein's position. With little time left before Hein's slash made contact, Byakuya tilted his neck backwards, narrowly avoiding the edge of Hein's blade prior to continuing his assault. Given that he had the height advantage, he quickly realized the merit of this situation. Keeping his blade horizontally poised and in front of him, he swung his sword widely in the hopes of slashing through his abdomen and inflicting a vital wound against the man.
Hein felt the bifurcating attack near him, and reacted quickly. He continued the awkward swing of his sword, catching the back of the blade’s tip in his left hand at his hip and laying the spine of the sword across his back. And not a moment too soon, as he had managed to do only that before the swords collided with a resounding clash of steel. The force of the blow served as the impetus of his rapid descent. Hein rocketed towards the ground and barely managed to find his footing before the impact. The result was an audible crack as the ground split open in another crater.
The noise was echoed by a clap of thunder, and the dust cleared slowly. The fight came to a halt. With the rain pouring into his face, Hein turned to glare at the man who stood above him, as if he were mocking him, literally looking down on him with disdain. They’re all the same. Every indecent last one of em.’ But although his brow was furrowed deeply in anger, he managed to smile casually, and the effect was unpleasantly similar to that of a feral animal baring its fangs.
“Well then otchan. Exceptional way to start a fight, wouldn’t ya say? Real indecent of ya to try and kill me so quick, or such-and-such.” Hein shifted his stance, subtly, and he hoped his adversary would fail to notice. “That’s goin’ for nothing, if ya ask me.” He spoke absently as he concentrated on searching for the slight vibrations caused by Byakuya’s beating heart. “Well then,” he had found it, “looks like it’s time for me to get real here.”
There seemed to be a shift in atmospheric pressure, the air becoming dense as it was imbued with spiritual pressure. The rain falling across Hein’s shoulders began to evaporate upon contact and, raising his sword to point it at Byakuya he said:
“Smolder, Moeru-en.” The release was abrupt as flames ignited across his shoulders and wrapped around his sword arm. But what Hein was really doing was grinding his feet deep into the ground and subduing the flame-based Reiatsu in his legs in order to concentrate it, to release everything with one spring.
And an instant later he disappeared. With one step he reached Byakuya’s position, imitating the attack the latter had employed just a short while before. He continued past his target, his senses fully alert and taking in every hidden detail: The even breathing, the steady beat of the heart...
Hein did not know the name of “Senka,” but he knew whatever it was had been used against him, and now he would mimic the attack against its own user. With one motion he initiated two piercing strikes with his hands as knives. One strike to the heart, one just below to the lungs. But he had stylized the imitation by adding one more facet. In the same instant he had moved Hein had transferred the hilt of his sword to his mouth, and now he held the blade out horizontally to the side in order to slice through the neck. The attack was delivered with incredible speed, and for Hein, a seemingly unexpected level of efficiency. The sword cut through the sheet of rain as it moved, but there was no sound. Not even that of a thought.
The increased spiritual pressure emitted from this grunt did not phase Byakuya in the slightest. He stood impassive in the face of the flames that he emitted, for they did not compare to true flames. However, what took Byakuya briefly by surprise was the speed of Hein's movement. But, it was not enough to defeat the Captain. Byakuya's adrenaline rushed and, on the ball of his foot, he turned one hundred and eighty degrees prior to lining his sword vertically across his body, specifically covering his neck down to his waist, blocking the strike to Byakuya's neck and lungs while pushing the sword forward, causing Hein's balance to be thrown off and altering the trajectory of the strike to the heart, which managed to just graze the left side of his torso, simultaneously creating distance between the two as he jumped back a step.
"This man..." Byakuya thought to himself, stabilizing his emotions of, what might have been, anger. To have copied Byakuya's technique and used it against him was imitation, the ultimate form of flattery...but also humiliation. But Byakuya did not waver once with his emotions. He steeled his eyes, looked towards Hein and gripped his sword slightly tighter with both hands, placing it in line with his waist as he looked towards Hein. "It seems grunts like yourself forget the concept of restraint. Nevertheless, such attempts don't mean anything in the face of the difference between us."
At that moment, Byakuya inched forward with his right foot forward, lied his blade horizontally parallel to his abdomen and suddenly disappeared from sight, appearing to the right side of Hein with his sword still in the same position, before taking a step with his left leg and making a wide slash towards Hein's direction, his aim specifically being to disable his right arm and reduce his attacking potential.
Hein was not surprised at how quickly Byakuya had been able to move his sword into a position to defend, but he was frustrated that his direct attempt to mock the Captain had been brushed aside so coolly. Fortunately, the Reiatsu imbued within his limbs allowed him to take the blade without damage, Haiken, his own version of “wearing a blade.” But his fist still stung and he dreaded taking on a direct attack, which was what he was now forced to deal with. However, as Byakuya had paused to deliver his taunt, Hein had been allowed a moment of time in which to regain his footing and project his senses towards his opponent. He felt the blade move now, as it was heavy with danger, and gauged its speed and trajectory almost a split second before it actually reached him. Byakuya was there too, following behind the sword with a powerful step that gave the strike its power. Hein’s left hand shot out to counter the attack, but instead of blocking it he slammed down onto the flat of the travelling kissaki, only touching it for an instant, and threw his body up into the air. Now upside-down, he initiated a slicing kick towards Byakuya’s head at a seemingly impossible angle. The left, lower shin was shadowed by the upper right shin which followed only a moment behind and with slightly more power due to the angle, although both kicks were considerably enhanced due to the speed with which they were executed. There was a catch, however. As each kick reached the peak of its motion; the end snap that signified the moment intended to contact the target; he would stop, suddenly, resulting in two concussive blows that would release a crushing shockwave of energy. He had not really given the maneveur much thought, initiating the counterattack based on the instinct and personal style gained through years of hand to hand combat. But he relished the ability to fight, and now felt as the pull of energy began to saturate his being. Energy that would be released a split-second later.
"Tch." Byakuya grunted to himself as Hein placed his attack with extreme...abnormality. Given the spontaneity of the attack, Byakuya hadn't had much time to properly position himself in a way to defend himself completely. Instead, he made use of a makeshift guard by immediately positioning his blade above his head, holding the grip tightly with one hand before using his other hand to stabilize the blade's position. As such, the moment that Hein's kicks stopped right before impacting Byakuya, the shockwaves that subsequently were released pushed Byakuya backwards, while sending blunt force trauma through Byakuya's swords and injuring his arms slightly.
Leaving his left hand free from his sword, Byakuya subsequently kept the grip on his sword tight, before raising his left hand. "Hadō 4, Byakurai." Was all he stated, as spiritual energy suddenly channeled towards his index finger before a thin bolt of lightning shot outwards and towards Hein's position, aiming for his right leg. At the same time, Byakuya continued to move forward and, the moment the lightning shot out completely, Byakuya shifted his position to Hein's blindspot in an attempt to take advantage of his complete lack of defense while in the air by slashing his left leg.
Balance[]
The spell was not a complicated one, Hein felt the air charge in front of him as he continued his course through mid-air. The force of using Hohō had in fact pushed him back, and using his own body as a lever he was able to redirect his momentum to land on the balls of his feet. He came to a stop, and a split second later heard Byakuya finish the spell. There was a crack as a bolt of lightning shot towards him, and he barely had time to react. He thrust out his hand and curled his fingers, as if to make a claw, and a moment later intercepted the stream of energy. But he was not stable enough to redirect the attack towards his opponent, and as such simply dispelled the Reishi that had composed the kidō in a radius of surrounding blue light.
Concerned as he was with handling the spell, he did not notice as Byakuya moved until it was too late. He felt the blade near him and turned, trying to avoid it. But he was unable to clear himself entirely from its trajectory, and the sword bit into the flesh of his thigh, bypassing the defense of his Reiatsu due to the close range and the skilled force with which the strike had been executed.
A line of blood trailed through the air and mingled with the pouring rain, and the two combatants seemed to freeze. For one instant they had reached equilibrium, it seemed. The atmosphere was still, droplets of water hovered in the air, and the world around them waited to see what would be done.
Lightning flashed, and the sudden intensity drowned them in stark, white relief.
Hein stood completely motionless even after the attack had carried all the way through. The wound burned, both physically and his sense of pride. This was the second time he had been cut, and he was slowly starting to lose control of what thin patience he may have once had.
In other words, it was time to kick it up a notch.
Without warning the spiritual pressure that had been building within the core of Hein’s soul ignited in bright, hot flames that rippled into being across his shoulders and back before shooting up into the sky. A powerful aura surrounded his limbs, and now there was so much energy circling him that he struggled to keep his feet planted down. In reality he was calling power into himself, driving the will of the Reishi itself into his arms and legs. The cloth of his most valuable yukata was burned away in an instant, leaving his chest exposed to the flames. Hein raised his right hand, slowly, and clenched it as a circle of flames spiraled around his fingers.
“Shunko.” he stated, talking around the blade that he still held between his teeth. “Exceptional wouldn’t ya say?”
There was a clap of thunder, and then he struck. Rushing forwards, he launched himself into the air at the last second, disappearing from sight for a perilous moment in time. When he stopped he was standing right in front of Byakuya, and he slammed his fist towards the center of the Captain’s chest. What followed the strike, or perhaps preceded it as it was impossible to tell due to the speed in which it occurred, was a powerful spiral of flame. Dense and dangerous, the flames burned hot enough that they threatened to cut rather than to scorch. It was very likely that he had contacted the Captain directly, or at least it may have felt like it from the percussive force of the blow, and it was clear that Hein’s speed had dramatically increased. The ring of energy-imbued fire cut towards Byakuya, and Hein simply grinned around the blade of his sword.
"This is..." Byakuya's thoughts showed that he immediately understood the nature of the incoming technique and braced himself accordingly. His sword was placed horizontally in front of him, with only the side of the blade actually being shown to Hein. The flaming aura initially surprised Byakuya, the ferocity of this man's spiritual power reminding him of a certain someone before it immediately compressed around Hein's being once again.
Within an instant, Hein exploded from his location and right before him. Byakuya, incapable of blocking through a conventional method, held onto his stance firmly as his thoughts echoed but one word. "Senbonzakura!" The instant Hein's fist was about to make contact with Byakuya's sword, the sudden eruption of smoke masked the true impact of the punch. Rather than truthfully make contact with Byakuya's body, it caused the entirety of Byakuya's Shikai, Senbonzakura to scatter into multiple fragments. While it evidently diminished the overall impact, it still caused the shockwave from the initial impact to transfer through the makeshift defense, thus causing Byakuya's posture to falter for but a moment.
Byakuya quickly recollected himself, remembering the terms which this fight was based upon. "Even by copying her technique...you will never be able to surpass the gap in our powers." As he spoke, the fragments of Senbonzakura littered across the battlefield returned to him. With nothing more than a single mental command, Byakuya send those fragments as a twister of petals towards Hein's being at rapid speeds, with the intent of drowning him in the blades that comprised Senbonzakura.
Her? Hein’s grin faded suddenly, and he rapidly transferred his sword to his left hand. He waited as the vortex of slicing blades neared him, and began to think. He wondered if Byakuya had meant the legendary Flash Goddess herself. After all, Shunko was said to have originated in the Shihouin clan. It was most certainly possible. Whatever the case may have been, it was an insult. He had only read about the technique once in passing. The rest of it, the actual formation and utilization and invention, had been all his own doing. To compare him to someone else, no matter who it might be, was an offense. But it was one that he was willing to set aside for now, as he had more pressing matters at hand...
The attack screamed towards him, thousands of miniscule swords decimating the wind and rain in front of them, and still he waited. Just as Senbonzakura spun towards him, he pushed through the hammering blades and into the tunnel. The initial impact was severely lessened by the fact that he had concentrated his Shunko into his crossed arms, allowing the blades to essentially skim over him. A stray petal here or there had penetrated his defense, however, and tiny superficial cuts were scratched into his skin. Now firmly within the vortex, the petals that enveloped him on all sides flashed as they rotated, and the spiral began to wind tighter. But Hein was not concerned. He shot forwards, outrunning the storm, and as he neared his target from the front, aimed to bring his right foot around to crash into the side of his head. But at the same time he slid his sword up through the rushing rain and petals, straight towards the pit of Byakuya’s arm, apparently intending to separate the limb from the body and tear through flesh and bone. Again he was airborne. Again it was an impossible angle. But there was a certain grace to his strange movements, as if he was in harmony with the dancing flames that were a part of him, while at the same time in sharp inconsonance with everything else that surrounded them. His sword, also an idiosyncrasy, held no flames, but instead the Reiatsu that was suppressed there caused the metal to smolder and hiss as it moved through water. But its force was most threatening, and held the properties of intense destruction. If Hein had been cutting at a stone wall instead of a Shinigami, the mortar would have been obliterated in an instant and the foundation crumbled to nothing, cut through like sand. He was certainly not holding back, and it seemed as though he both expected and reveled in the fact that Byakuya would respond in kind.
Byakuya's immediate response was that of irritation. To have evaded Senbonzakura's petals was no easy feat. However, now that he did and was approaching Byakuya's Hurtless Zone, Byakuya was forced to resort to other measures in order to respond. Given that Hein's kick was coming overhead, Byakuya immediately took a half-step backwards. However, he instantly realized the slash coming for him. While his half-step managed to cause its range to lessen to the front of his arm, it was still a difficult slash to evade. Accordingly so, Byakuya resorted to Kidō, instantly pointing his left index finger to the direction of Hein's sword. Without delay, Byakuya sent out a white pulse of spiritual energy towards the sword, causing it to shift further to the right. With Byakuya raising his right arm at the same time, he managed to only get slightly cut by the sword shifting away from Byakuya's being, dragging Hein along with it.
As a reaction, Byakuya took a single step backwards that subsequently regained the distance between the two. Given Senbonzakura's range weakness, he couldn't afford to mess up like that again. Byakuya shifted the hilt's direction towards himself, thus increasing the speed of Senbonzakura's blade fragments. After ensuring he was surrounded by rotating Senbonzakura petals in a circular formation, he quickly sent out virtually solidified whip-like constructs towards Hein's being from several angles, aiming to encircle and destroy him at once.
Still carried through the air due to the momentum from his strike, Hein felt the streams of razors near him, and quickly turned so that his footing was solid. He did not react immediately, but instead allowed the blades to envelope him once more. And at the last second, he projected the spiraling energy that was Shunko outwards, and the current of flames caught Senbonzakura. Instead of crushing him, they circled around him, and the fire mingled with the petals. At that point, Hein could have easily dispelled the attack around him, flinging it far and wide away from him, but he did not. Displaying an impressive and perhaps even uncharacteristic amount of restraint, he instead continued to keep the blades spiraling around him while he turned his attention to something that was on the cloth of Byakuya’s Haori.
Where the Shihakushō had been cut by Hein’s sword, the fabric was charred and in fact still smoldering in the rain, threatened to be extinguished. Hein concentrated his attention there, and without warning the ashes built back up into a tongue of bright orange fire. Hoping Byakuya would be distracted by the flames that would spread across his shoulder, Hein moved, and the cocoon of petals and fire moved with him. In an instant he was above Byakuya, and he split the wall open around him by directing the flames of his Shunko. They opened like a jaw, and the mouth yawned around both him and the captain before snapping shut suddenly. Hein himself was pushed back and away from the flames and petals, while he hoped Byakuya had been caught in the full-force of the attack.
“Hah!” he shouted above the roar. “How does that suit ya, otchan? Taste of yer own medicine, I’d say.” Hein laughed easily, but kept his attention focused on his opponent. Despite his casual demeanor, he knew he could not let his guard down in the slightest, and wondered if he had managed to provoke Byakuya’s anger by then. If not he would simply have to try another approach. Hein wanted to unbalance the captain, both physically and mentally, and was prepared to use any means possible to do so.
Byakuya quickly noticing the burning and it irritated him ever-so-slightly. However, Byakuya's focus enabled him to simply abandon the piece of clothing by ripping it off with his other arm, letting the tongue of flames douse in the rain. However, given the scale of the threat, Byakuya had instantly realized it was a trap and appropriately directed his attention to the incoming Hein. Hein had jumped and attempted to use Senbonzakura against Byakuya, completely disregarding the true nature of a bond between Shinigami and Zanpakutō.
"Foolish." Was all Byakuya muttered, with an intense gaze directed towards Hein. At the moment the so-called cocoon split and attempted to drown him in a flurry of flames and blades, Senbonzakura's blades suddenly diverted from their path, instead their speed increased and proceeded to create a soft wall of petals that quickly redirected the path of the flames to either side of Byakuya, leaving him unharmed in the process. Byakuya, realizing his regular strategies wouldn't work effectively against the propulsion power of Hein's Shunko, instead localized his Senbonzakura around himself, in a similar vein to how he would normally employ Bankai, awaiting for Hein's response.
And all his opponent did, at first, was growl and spit to the side. Hein stared down at Byakuya, who was now on the ground, and for a moment it seemed as though he were at a loss for what to do. He could sense the blades rustling through the air, and their gentle caressing motion as they encircled the captain belied their deadly nature. Scowling, Hein quickly discarded the idea of going for a direct attack. He had noticed, but only just slightly, that Byakuya’s reaction had been rushed when he had managed to get within close range. And due to the way he directed his released Zanpakutō, Hein assumed close-combat was his weak point. However, he could not afford to be reckless here, and after a moment’s thought decided it would be best to attack from a distance.
“So yer waitin’ for me to move, I see.” Hein commented. “Terrible dull idea, wouldn’t ya say otchan? Allowin’ yer enemy to frame the terms and conditions, or such-and-such.”
He did not wait for a reply, but instead sped forward. In a flash he had disappeared, and began rushing around Byakuya in a wide circle. Still in the air, he began to gain momentum, which increased his already high level of speed. He would need all the force he could muster for his next attack.
Channeling the spiraling energy within his legs, he soared high into the sky before sliding to a stop. Thin trails of steam followed his hands and feet, the rain having been evaporated by the heat of friction. He was upside down, his feet planted in the air above him, staring down at his target below. The next second he sprang, and the sheer acceleration caused his Reiatsu to ignite around him. He plummeted towards the earth like a meteor, but before he contacted the ground he came to a screaming stop. All his accumulated force was thrown forward, but his body reversed its direction, remaining stationary. It was the same technique he had used earlier, projecting his Hohō to deliver a wall of concussive shock to Byakuya who stood directly below. But this time, the added speed of Shunko combined with the height of his sudden descent meant the disk of energy, visible now because of the flames that were pulled along with it, was much, much more powerful. There was a screech, like a euphoric cry of triumph that preceded certain destruction, and the wall of flames and force flashed towards the earth.
"...I can get him here!" Byakuya noted as he followed the blitz-like movements that Hein was conducting. Truly, he was extremely fast. Learning the fabled Hohō and Kidō hybrid technique was not for show after all. But Byakuya was by no means done here. He stood still the entire time and observed Hein's movements, preparing as the man was about to reach the climax of his elaborately woven, but simple, attack. In the instant Hein projected himself downwards from the sky, Byakuya collected the scattered Senbonzakura fragments in a position just above his head. Their coalesced shape formed a semi-spherical shell which collided with the incoming shockwave that would be released from Hein's attack.
The resulting clash would be tremendous in scale. The sheer force caused a screech-like sound to erupt from the immediate vicinity of Hein and Byakuya, with a subsequent explosion of flames and smoke that shook the ground beneath and caused several incisions in the ground around them. Byakuya's focus remained, however, and with the scattering of his Senbonzakura petals from the impact – as well as his own minor injuries – he proceeded to his next move. Byakuya raised his left arm, pointing his index and middle finger towards Hein's position. "Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō." In only a moment, six golden rods of spiritual energy suddenly were projected from his fingers and attempted to slam into Hein's torso. At the same time, Byakuya began the process of recollecting his Senbonzakura petals, forming both halves of into waves of petals that intended to capture Hein from both sides and case significant injury. In order to avoid the oncoming aftermath of the maneuver, Byakuya shifted a few meters backwards with a small jump.
Still pulling out of his attack and moving back through the sky, Hein felt the shafts of Kidō near him, but at that point there was no way for him to react in time. The Rikujōkōrō had trapped him; six petals of yellow light having sprouted from his center, and the next instant a thousand blades swarmed him from both sides. The two halves of the attack curled around him before colliding violently, drowning him in a sphere of spectral razors.
For a moment it seemed as though the battle would end then and there. A thin trail of crimson mingled with the sakura-pink of the flashing blades. But for some reason Senbonzakura’s wall would not advance any farther, as though it had encountered some invisible barrier. As the petals began to clear, a dark purple light became visible until at last the rest of the attack had dissipated and Hein was left standing in the middle of a phantasmal, rotating black orb. Hundreds of miniscule scratches covered the skin of his chest and back, but they appeared to be largely superficial. There was no sign of the Rikujōkōrō that was supposed to be binding him. He grinned deliriously as he allowed the spell of Sekidō to disperse. Kokkai: A barrier-type construct that allowed him to slip through attacks of energy by diverting the spell around the surface of the orb.
“Hey, I won’t say that I invented this technique or such-and-such, but it’s so far been terrible useful, wouldn’t ya say? Well, ‘gainst a basket of flowers leastways.” he jeered.
In reality he was somewhat surprised that the Sekidō had worked to redirect Senbonzakura’s blades. It had not been entirely effective, as some had still managed to pierce through the Kidō to cut him, but still he had largely managed to escape. The Kokkai had also managed to repel the Bakudō spell, and now Hein was free to prepare another attack.
He crouched low, coiling into himself and condensing his energy before he sprang again. Then, he fell from the sky once more and vanished from sight.
A split-second later and Hein had appeared to Byakuya’s right, but at the same time he shimmered into existence at his left. Then he was there again, this time in front, and then behind. It seemed as though he were in several places at once, apparently hoping to distract Byakuya with the make-shift clones formed as afterimages due to his sheer speed while he searched for an opening to attack, careful to avoid the blades that still rotated around the captain.
There. The point just below the neck. In an instant he spotted a gap in the layer of Senbonzakura and made his move. Hein curled his fingers into a fist, building his Reiatsu there at one certain point until it was essentially converted into a ball of pure power. And by then he had already struck. His hand seemed to move of its own volition, having become its own weapon, strong enough to crush through bone and sharp enough to pierce deep into flesh.