Wind of Change

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Junction

East Rukongai. Afternoon.

A nondescript glade in the middle of nowhere. A place, somewhere, within the vast realm of the Soul Society. Heaven. Purgatory. The vestibule of Hell. The man currently known only as Tōsō pondered about this location. How come any area of such an important aspect of the whole existence could feel so... mundane. Ordinary, unimportant. Blue sky with a few clouds stretching across it. Trees, green leaves and tall grass rustling in the gentle wind. He could even hear the soothing sounds of forest animals nearby. The birds were chirping, those adorable little critters.

And for a time he wanted to destroy all of that. He sunk so deep in the desperation he so cherished that the world around him began collapsing, dragging everything and everyone around him into the chasm of oblivion. He thought he was strong, unyielding in the face of impossible odds. In truth, he had surrendered long ago and merely deluded himself. He sneered at common people and their delusions, himself subject to a lie he thrived upon. More than that, he projected the tragedy of his long life upon the rest of the world and decided to destroy it whole, unable to cope with his own failures.

That was not the way. He despised his commanders, his colleagues, for attempting to exploit him, his exceptional power, for telling him what to do and demanding absolute obedience. And what exactly he had been doing for the last thousand years? Spreading his sorrow and nihilism like a plague, coercing people to give up, become insane and lash out against their misfortune in a blind, mindless rage. It was easy to destroy something. But did not he want to mould a better world a long, long time ago? Was that not his original, greatest wish? The very reason and cause for what he had become.

The recent encounter with the esteemed Seireitō Kawahiru opened his eyes. Tōsō was ready to work in order to improve the imperfect existence. To cooperate with others and toil together. He was ready to accept other opinions, to nod at mistakes and encourage the people to carry on, with their heads held high. After much deliberation he determined he should re-establish his connection with the Gotei 13. For all their atrocities and arrogance, they were ultimately the guardians of order. They were definitely the group to address if he required assistance in his new endeavour. And they would require his assistance rather soon, given a grave threat looming over the horizon.

The location was perfect. Far away from any settlement, enough to avoid... collateral damage, yet close enough to attract the attention he wanted. In consequence, Tōsō drew out his latent power. From the heavily suppressed state matching that of a normal Soul he rose rapidly, a few orders of magnitude, until he reached what he estimated to be the level of a Captain of the modern era. He shone like a beacon of spiritual power amongst the relative emptiness of a vast forest. Fortunately, not as strongly so as to adversely impact the environment. He swore to himself to never let his power loose recklessly again. Too many had suffered unnecessarily.

Now, he had to wait. The beacon was lit, waiting for a moth to approach it.

For many minutes the stalwart Hakudaka would remain put; nary a rustle in the leaves or a gust to be had. One might've even gotten the impression that the wait was truly in vain, but then something happened; the wind rose in intensity, leaves were blown away from the treetops and danced amidst the clearing, soon joined by the petals of various flowers.

Gentle gusts tugged playfully at Toso's clothing, almost suggestively, perhaps? The winds shifted and a whirlwind of flower petals began to form, growing in intensity and volume as greater and greater numbers of colorful petals and leaves joined in; before long, the silhouette of a man robed in what appeared to be a flowing kimono, and sporting a strange conical hat appeared. As if on cue the whirlwind dispersed, scattering flower petals all around the clearing.

He moved slowly, the headwear shadowing his eyes as he spoke with a deep rumbling voice, while extending his hand out towards Toso in a beckoning motion: "I have come to answer your summons, I could not mistake the presence of one so sculpted. Come, embrace me as your betrothed, and I will lift us above the treetops on a journey you shan't soon forget, Toso-chwan!"

As if following a preplanned script, the wind shifted once more and sent all gathered flower petals spiralling around the robed figure. Simultaneously, the gust took ahold of his robes, causing them to billow out behind him for dramatic effect. The gesture revealed a Zanpakutou strapped to his hip; its appearance remarkable only in how unremarkable it was.

Whoever this man was, he commanded the element of air itself; wielding the four cardinal winds as props for his dramatic entrance. One could scarcely imagine a greater contrast between two men who shared a few similarities, yet were so unlike each other at the same time. The newcomer was flamboyant and breezy, floating freely as if he were completely above the misery of this world. On the other hand, Tōsō was haggard, sombre, more like a golem emerging from the earth than an actual person. With the piercing gaze of a steel grey eye cast from beneath the hair the colour of dirt, he regarded the newcomer with barely a miniscule move. Only his tattered cloak fluttered in the controlled gusts of wind.

"Seems that chaos has tricked me again", he spoke in a calm voice. "I expected to attract the buzz of flies and summoned a wind dragon instead. Another relic of the distant past."

While recalling memories from the aforementioned period of time was far from pleasant, Tōsō did so nonetheless. The man before him was Hiromasa Ishikawa, a supreme swordsman, the master of air, and a fellow founding Captain of the Gotei 13. Did fate lead him to encounter another one within such a short timespan, after nearly a thousand years of orbiting the developing Soul Society like a shadowed moon? He did not expect Ishikawa to maintain contact with the military organisation after so long, however, to suppose that he was better informed about the current situation than the extreme recluse who was Tōsō was only logical. Perhaps there was something invaluable to obtain from this meeting as well.

"Tell me, Ishikawa-ue, has the wind that you command carried rumours of an emerging threat to your ears? One that may force another layer of deception upon this world and cast everyone into the abyss of madness?", he inquired in his signature grim tone.

"A dragon, hrm? Is that how you see me, Toso-chan? I'll accept your compliment with my sincerest gratitude, your words warms my heart. Regrettably I am but a vassal to a higher liege, I descend only to enjoy the finer creations of the planes, I count you among them." Ishikawa spoke calmly, almost lazily, flatteries and suggestions flowing from his lips like wine; whether he purposely evaded the question or simply had no answer was difficult to know for certain. Ishikawa rarely gave a straight answer, he found it more amusing to be vague.

This time however, it seemed he was of a mind to play along with the other man's request, as he pondered for a moment, looking up as if though seeking permission from the heavens themselves. Before he sighed and spoke: "Threats? The Wind tells me many things, it tells me where to find men like yourself, gemstones of such radiance so as to keep even someone like me rooted in reality. It also tells me of your recent meeting with Sei-chan, you two made quite a mess, didn't you -- you've been naughty."

The man scratched his beard for a moment, white despite his youthful appearance. He looked towards his right, to no one in particular, his eyes focused upon a single arbitrary point. With a curious gesture he withdrew both of his legs from the ground and folded them underneath himself in a sitting position, similar to that of a mystic or monks. Despite nothing to support his weight, Hiromasa did not fall, the air simply put, would not permit him to: so he didn't.

"Well. I assume you're interested in another thing its told me, its told me of an organization who wields the art of magic; seeking to use it for nefarious means. Undoubtedly they believe their cause just, most murderers of that scale do, but hundreds of thousands humans lie dead because of their actions. It is likely to lead to a war in some shape or form, I want no part in it -- murder is never the way, no matter the individual."

His voice didn't change as he spoke, almost nonchalantly about the great loss of life, for Hiromasa held himself above such wordly concerns. His face, briefly serene and thoughtful changed then into a wide beaming smile: "No, Toso-chwan, its not for us, don't worry about it and instead, accept my offer. I'll lift us both above the skies, I sense great sadness in you -- allow me but a chance to lift your spirits, I want to see you smile again, Toso-chan."

The Hakudaka's face remained stiff, however, seemingly locked in a solemn expression. Whether it indicated tranquil fury, apprehension or sorrow was uncertain, and subject for personal interpretation.

"I am afraid I have forgotten what joy is", he responded after a short while. "And as you may know, I am not one to pretend either. Do not focus upon the miserable wretch in front of you, but rather the things he speaks of, Ishikawa-ue."

Outright ignoring praise and reprimand was not a matter of modesty for Tōsō. Rather, in case of someone who was an empty shell of a once complete person they had nothing to latch onto, neither humility nor pride, and faded away without even leaving an echo. His mind was not that of a man with a clear purpose but a metaphorical vortex of swirling thoughts. Any trivial remarks, any banalities of social interaction were lost in the relentless current. Only matters of great importance were strong enough to remain afloat.

"My encounter with Kawahiru-ue, as violent as it was, encouraged me to change. I have eventually changed my attitude if not my goal. I no longer intend to force anything upon this world. I may tolerate its imperfection. I want to help it improve. But I fear that there exist people, numerous, powerful and organised, who are not as magnanimous as I am."

Where Hiromasa was one to look up at the sky, Tōsō fixed his glare at the earth beneath his feet. His left hand clenched into a fist.

"You may find serenity in your light-heartedness. Although, reality will not hesitate to strip it away from you at the first opportunity. I must not ignore threats that endanger the whole world. We must not remain passive. I sought the assistance of Gotei 13. Perhaps meeting you is even better. People of such unreasonable power as we both wield must not be selfish and keep it to themselves. We should use it to defend the weak and support the strong, those who attempt arduously to maintain order in a world of chaos."

"What a delightfully simple notion, Toso-chan. Indeed, were I to join forces with you, the results would be extraordinary, it would surely mean that whichever side of the conflict we joined received a greater chance of victory. But, what of what comes after?"

Hiromasa paused for a moment, almost as if questioning his own point of view. His facial features turned serious for the briefest of moments before he looked at Toso, for the first time in a way that didn't simply reflect his views on the other mans good looks.

"Its true, our power has the potential to influence the worlds. But such potential comes with responsibility, there's two sides to every conflict, and by picking one we may unwittingly put ourselves on the wrong side of history. I am required to do nothing, least of all act." Ishikawa took a breath then, his features and expression unchanging.

"Sei-chan understands his place, and he, like myself would not act rashly in this matter, each time we make a decision, that decision creates waves in a larger pond. It is not up to us to fight the battles of the younger generations for them, as old as that makes me sound. While I abhor their methods, perhaps the goal of this organization of spellcasters is ultimately for the betterment of the worlds? Who are we then to oppose that change just because we don't like the package?"

Hiromasa closed his eyes briefly, he'd been called many things throughout his long life: by many who sought to control him for who he was, and what he could accomplish. He'd been asked to assist humans with warfare, all in order to protect them, the results had shaken the world, he could not afford to intervene carelessly.

Leaning backwards, the Zanjutsu Grandmaster supported his back against the empty air, hovering above the ground in a horizontal position while he drifted back and forth soothingly. "Inaction just another course of action, you know. The hardest one, to have the ability to change something but choosing not to is a committment few are capable of making, Toso-chan."

The Hakudaka shook his head slowly. The muscles of his face contracted ever so slightly, changing his grim expression into one that evoked anger more clearly than before.

"If I have learnt anything during the last one thousand years, it is that the end does not justify the means", he said eventually. "And I highly doubt that their ultimate goal is so noble to begin with. I of all people know full well what they intend to accomplish and what measures they are ready to take. I have been just rescued from the clutches of well-intentioned extremism, and I will not stand for an infinitely less benevolent organisation taking the world by force, by any means necessary."

Tōsō gazed briefly at the relaxed swordsman. Or rather through him, such was the intensity of his stare. Then he turned to the side, and for the first time in a while began moving, walking about Ishikawa at a steady pace. He stopped abruptly and turned toward him again with a jerky motion, the cape of his cloak fluttering behind him like a living shadow.

"You are right in that any action we perform has the potential to impact the entire world. This is exactly why we ought to act in a situation like that. As a consequence of Gotei 13's inaction the Coven has grown tremendously in power and influence. It is Gotei's passive attitude that fostered poverty and corruption, threat after threat, allowed civil wars and ambushes that repeatedly shook the balance of all existence. But we can act. There is no authority or anxiety to stop us."

After those words he finally looked at the sky above them. He was unusually attentive, as if he suspected to notice something up there, or attempted to pierce through something. Another cycle in his spiral-like mode of thinking was completed. That was time for another turn along the endless curve.

"The power we boast does not belong solely to us. We should honour the memory of masters who nurtured us and let us realise our abnormal potential. We should protect their families, friends, all the innocent, oft-powerless people that surround us. A grave threat looms over the horizon, like a blade suspended above the neck of a hapless victim. Would you stand by, idly, and watch the blade fall?", he cast the gaze of his single eye directly at Hiromasa. "Do not delude yourself with the notion of serenity, Ishikawa-ue. Ignorance and idleness will not protect you. Reality does not care whether you believe it or not. It does not disappear when you stop thinking about it. It is always there, ruthless, unyielding, inevitable."

He was now facing Hiromasa head-on in a stable, stiff stance. Both of his hands were clenched into fists. A single gust of wind swept across the glade, tousling his unkempt hair and causing his cape to extend behind him, like a black sail signaling an imminent tragedy.

"Those who are aware of the sheer reality can act. They can struggle, they can fight it, defend from it, force it to change. Those who remain idle, those who avert their gaze from facts and focus solely upon their little imaginary worlds are, sooner or later, ground to dust between the wheels of time. Do you mean to tell me, Ishikawa-ue, that with all your potential you wish to remain passive, to waste that exceptional power and watch an unspeakable horror consume this world, only to fade away into nothingness as if you never existed?"

Hiromasa listened to the words spoken by the Hakudaka, however, they held little substance to him, for they did nothing but confirm what he had suspected, that Toso's viewpoint was narrow and directed only at what he could see. Whether the Coven emerged victorious or not was largely irrellevant, the world would continue, changed though it might be. Truthfully, it had no bearing on Hiromasa, he was not bound to either Soul Society or the Human World, his allegiances lied within the upper realms of which he was apart of, as a Kami.

"I'm sorry to hear that you miss the point so thoroughly, Toso-chan. Change rarely comes easily or painlessly, it is usually bloody, brutal and to those who oppose it -- evil. But just because it appears so doesn't mean that it is neccessarily the case, your hands helped forge Soul Society, did they not?"

He pondered the question out loud, Toso was a man who chose sides it would appear. Stretching his body, Hiromasa enjoyed being rocked back and forth by the playful currents of air that surrounded him, it was a soothing experience. After a while, he spoke again, with the same gentleness to his voice.

"Yamamoto's conquest was a bloody one, many lives were lost in his bid to unify the spiritual realm that is now known as Soul Society. We assisted him in this, back then, we were instruments of change; and to those who stood against us I would think we seemed the very face of evil. Through our efforts, our enemies were routed, and Yamamoto's ambition made reality. You've chosen to side with your old comrades in this. We and this 'Coven' had the same purpose, to force a change."

With that, Hiromasa sat back up into a relaxed posture. Sitting cross-legged and held aloft by the presence of his element, he hovered lightly in place. "You're an impressionable man, Toso, that was proven when only a single meeting with Sei-chan managed to change your views so. Your intentions are at present at odds with your nature, the very nature which feeds your own special brand of Hakuda -- you're a being of chaos, like me, who wishes to impose order. Isn't that a touch ironic?"

Ishikawa suspected that attempting to reason with Toso was a pointless endeavour, and he rapidly grew disinterested in their conversation. "I will not join you in your bias, Toso-chwan, but neither is it up to me to stop you. Yours is an easy cup to fill, I would've filled it myself, but I don't think you would've gotten much out of the experience, mirthless as you are." Ishikawa now stood at the opposite of the clearing; how he'd gotten there was a mystery, for there had been no indication of movement, no energy released or even the telltale blurr of Shunpo. It was almost as if he'd been there all along, except he hadn't. With a warm smile he turned around to look at Toso before he spoke playfully.

"Well, its been a pleasure to see your face again Toso-chan, though your looks are wasted on you since you won't let anyone enjoy them. Whatever cause you choose to pursue, I welcome you to it, my advice still stands, however." Once more the wind rose in intensity as Hiromasa's kimono billowed outwards as the man ascended up into the air like the Kami he was.

"If there's nothing else, I will be taking my leave now."

"I used to be a man of order", spoke Tōsō in a raised voice, once again staring at the ground. "But as the world around me crumbled I succumbed to the call of chaos. But not anymore!", with that exclamation he looked up, toward the white-haired swordsman. "I no longer represent an extreme. I have become the junction, the conduit between the two opposite states. The world as we know it can only exist in their midst. Is not our role to maintain the balance!? We shall not stand for the tyranny of order nor the anarchy of chaos! It is our duty to protect this world from either for as long as we live!"

He paused for a short while, and closed his eye. Another cycle was completed. The next one would take a more violent turn.

"You are a fool, Hiromasa Ishikawa. You think you can ignore all of this. You think you can go away. You think you will remain undisturbed if you wish so. But you cannot escape reality. The moment you drop your guard... you die."

Ruthless Reality

Tōsō lifted both of his arms in preparation. Then, suddenly, his entire body seemed to flex as if his whole being were one giant muscle.

"Hoooaaah!", he bellowed like a monster.

The well of power within him exploded like a supernova, skyrocketing from the level of a modern Captain well into the domain of a founding one, the first generation hailed as the greatest of all to this day. Perhaps somwhat higher than that, even, for he had had another thousand years to hone his skill beyond that already impressive level.

A swirling aura of red-violet energy erupted from Tōsō's body and enveloped him with a vortex crackling with serpentine currents of elecricity. The man himself was visibly enlarged, growing a few inches in both height and stature, only to tear apart his cloak and the upper part of his uniform with that engorged body. That was Mutekitai. As a veteran Hakudaka his sheer physical fitness was nothing short of outstanding. However, for a Hakuda Grandmaster such a supremely conditioned body was still insufficient. Thus, with Mutekitai he bolstered his fitness beyond the natural limits, bathed every bone, tendon and muscle with excess spiritual energy, to assume a form more befitting a demigod rather than man.

Nevertheless, that was no simple increase in raw power. All the pertinent aspects, strength, toughness, nimbleness, stamina, reflexes and regenerative capacity were improved substantially. His mind was focussed and his resolve as unwavering as ever, too. He became a clenched fist, body, mind and soul. Every muscle shaped to the point of perfection, with nary a trace of fat, very large, but not the point of excess. The body of a god of war.

And for all that tremendous power unleashed there was hardly any effect on the environment, apart from a small patch of earth beneath his feet being stripped of grass and moulded into a spiral shape. The trees remained where they were, the grass was almost stationary, the birds were chirping and the clouds were still sailing languidly upon the sky. There was, however, a prominent effect, one that could not escape the notice of Ishikawa. In the instant that Tōsō released his power the reality itself seemed to inflate briefly, unable to accomodate such amount of energy radiating from a single source. A spatial ripple swept across the plane of existence.

And the ripple signaled the imment assault. The Hakuda Grandmaster showered his colleague with a barrage of strikes without moving from his position on the ground. There was no need to. Whatever he wanted to hit was hit. His resolve had ways of dictating reality what should happen, regardless of its physical laws. There were countless punches, jabs and chops, a veritable wave of physical blows piercing through space toward Ishikawa. And in their midst, Tōsō himself was hidden, now speeding in his direction like a man-shaped projectile, ready to deliver a fatal blow: Bōkyaku, the true strike. One that channeled pure chaos into whatever was struck, introducing the primordial disorder into an object born of order.

From his vantage point Hiromasa observed Toso with some interest, his attention was not on the fighters power or raw potential, but on his rippling muscles and sculpted form. Damn, Toso sure looked nice, a shame he was such a stick in the mud, and moody too by the looks of it. He listened half-heartedly as Toso began making all these predictable accussations and personal attacks, he'd been called a fool, a coward and worse over his long career as a Shinigami, this was nothing different. Exaperated, he let out a short sigh, all he wanted was a nice quiet evening, preferably cuddled up with a man as glorious as Toso, but it seemed like this day had something else in store.

It was then that Toso unleashed his power, ripples of spatial energy expanded outward from where he stood, briefly removing all color as they it continued its course; it was a curious phenomena, sure to frighten casual observers. Fortunate then that this forest was empty save for them and some unusual animals, he reached out to those beasts and urged them to find another place to stay. Toso appeared to be mentally unstable, or merely childish; but then again the two went for the same in his mind.

The Hakudaka was preoccupied with making himself look as intimidating as possible. Like a pufferfish in the face of a possible predator, he grew significantly in size, his limbs now thick and potent. But Hiromasa wasn't impressed, in fact he amused himself by directing a leaf through the surrounding foliage with precision rather than take the moment to appreciate the other man's power. He listened to Toso's grand declarations of independence, of the impressive calling in life he'd discovered following his run-in with Seireitou, out of courtesy and not neccessarily because he believed any of it. Although one thing occured to him.

Toso clearly needed more hugs.

Hiromasa's interest returned again when he heard the telltale sound of a shirt being ripped open, putting Toso's abs, pectorals and sculpted body nicely on display. He rather approved of this change, as the Hakudaka readied himself for an attack, spurred on by his suddenly extreme desire of making himself a messiah. Ishikawa wondered briefly if he'd be forced to go through similar hassles as this whenever a weak-minded person decided to have a conversation with Sei-chan, perhaps he might arrange for a nice warning sign to be placed outside his Dojo reading; Warning, venturing beyond this point might lead to shallow world-views being broken and instill in you an inexplicable need to be a Messiah.

At that point the world around him exploded into motion as space was displaced and shunted aside as innumerable blows enclosed upon the wind deity. To an outsider, it would be a display desserving of a grand poem, but to Hiromasa it was an attack so simple and uninspired that it bordered on plebeian. He raised his left hand which then vanished in a blurr as he lazily deflected every single attack directed at him with unfailing precision, not a single blow landed on him or ruffled his clothes or appearance -- for he knew precisely when each of them would land, where and how he should move to respond. Hiromasa's expression was unchanged as he raised his voice to speak with just the slightest hint of annoyance.

"Thrown aside your extremist views have you? Yet you turn to blows immediately upon your views being disregarded, and the moment a disagreement arises. I don't share your views so now you attempt to "force" me, is that it? Make me see the error of my ways through your fists? That is the very face of extremism, despite all your grand words and pretty phrases, you haven't changed one bit. Whether your mind is directed at saving the world or conquering it, you are still a zealot."

Hiromasa remained keenly aware of Toso's movement, although he pretended otherwise, Fuujin, the most powerful of the five boons gave him perfect understanding of his opponents movements. Thus, almost before Toso himself knew it, Ishikawa had already grasped everything there was to know about his offensive action.

Chaos primordial found its host in Toso, and that chaos was channeled into his fists for the the fabled Oblivion. It would pit the entire realm of chaos against Hiromasa, and attempt to wipe out his very existence. But Ishikawa's reaction was shockingly simple, for with perfect clarity and with precision guided by unfailing foresight, he caught Toso's attack cleanly with his right hand, a move that might as well been a clean hit. Chaos coursed through Hiromasa, attempted to unravel his form and core, but as he was one with the element of air, which was disorder incarnate; the chaos could find nothing to unravel and in the end accomplished nothing. Had he been any man but Hiromasa Ishikawa, such an action would've seen his existence undone like a loose thread in a tapestry.

Ishikawa's fist clenched ahold of Toso's own, a man whose strength was considered among the greatest of their number. However, strong as Toso might be, he was ultimately just a speck in comparison to the raw force of nature that was the element of air itself. Through the third boon of Tengen, Hiromasa's strength embodied that very element, and on this clear day his physical strength was practically infinite, no matter Toso's physical strength, Hiromasa had great doubts that Toso could compete with that; indeed, he could only think of one who could. However, merely blocking the attack was only half the intent, for in the exact moments their hands met, two long spears manifested out of thin air and surged to pierce Toso's chest from the front and behind in the same motion; these were the first two spears of Murakaze; and permanently imbued with an empowered version of Kiku-Ichimonji that made them capable of bypassing physical obstructions as well as physical. But the most noteable of their traits were their attunement to Osafune, making a direct blow from them capable of instantly felling opponents even as strong as the other Founding Captains, by causing all of their reiryoku to evaporate upon contact. Were Toso to be hit by the two of them.. well, Hiromasa supposed he might be rendered comatose for a month.

But, just incase, and following his dislike of combat, Hiromasa didn't let that be the end of it as he immediatelly followed up the two attacks by causing the very air to constrict around Toso, its raw presence undettered by the Yuugamiken; for it was present at the behest of a Kami. Before Hiromasa used his left hand to unsheathe his Zanpakuto, an act of great respect for his former comrade...

It was such a simple act, but in that moment the world was eviscerated by countless slashes of tremendous power, the sky was cut in twain, the chaos banished by the stroke of Murakaze, the Zanpakuto of Hiromasa of the Gentle Blade. Unrelenting, the attacks seemed unending as they sought to tear into Toso relentlessly, the world around them had all but been erased, replaced by an expansive white, twisting blur of dancing blades that obscured everything else from view. It was was though the blade of Murakaze was a brush that painted a new world into existence, a new realm with nothing except for the two of them, Hiromasa supposed it might've been romantic were it not for the fact that all of these flashing lights were slashes directed at his companion; each strike professed peace, and each hit he might endure would only put him closer to incapacitation, shredding away at his spiritual energy and eventually letting him descend into a deep peaceful sleep for who knew how long. But despite all of this, death was an impossibility, for any attack he'd made had been done through the Wonder of Osafune.

Finally the furious storm of blades came to an end, as the built up force was expelled outwards in a massive shockwave that were it not for the essence of Osafune would've undoubtedly seen this wondrous jewel of nature undone. Ishikawa's desire had been simple, to end the battle then and there, all by working out of that single opportunity that Toso had bestowed upon him, and as serenity returned.. he resheathed his Zanpakuto and released hold of Toso's hand.

And with that the first, opening stage of Tōsō's plan was complete. In the unlikely event that Ishikawa had been actually caught off guard the Hakudaka would have proceeded with a relentless assault, benefitting from the portion of chaos introduced into realspace with the first strike. However, the main strike was blocked, and that was no small feat to stop a punch capable of shattering a mountain so casually. The onslaught of proxy strikes was defended from as well. And, most importantly, the retaliation was immediate and comprehensive. A real spectacle of supreme Zanjutsu to behold, one that did justice to the name Wonders of the Blade.

Even a seasoned Captain of the modern era would scarcely comprehend what had transpired, much less offer meaningful resistance before instantly going into an induced coma. But those were two Founding Captains engaged in an abrupt battle. Could a monster fell another one with just a single assault? Perhaps not, but to what extent would Tōsō have to go in order to withstand such an assault? The multiple strikes were no ordinary swings of a physical blade, rather, metaphysical expressions of a Soul attempting to calm the other one. Powerful, comprehensive, and uninhibited by conventional defences. What amount of effort would be required to deflect or persevere through them without succumbing to their effects?

That was of no concern. For Tōsō's fighting style was dictated in part by the primordial chaos itself. He was more like a stream of water rather than man. To attempt to seize him was to grasp at water with bare hands, to attempt to stop him was to raise a hand to stop a current. There was always a purpose behind his actions, an overarching goal, but the approach itself was ever-changing and inscrutable, unpredictable. He was like water seeping and flowing through cracks in the ground. He did not hesitate, he did not halt, he proceeded onward, unabated, seamlessly approaching his target via cracks present or ones of his own make.

So that when Hiromasa intercepted his strike, when the Zanjutsu onslaught began and descended upon him, a supernatural tempest, an event occurred. With Yugamiken, the crowning achievement of his millennia-long Hakuda training and the most genuine expression of his person through the prism of combat, the distance between him and a point in space somewhere behind Ishikawa was outright destroyed. Space and time struggled to process that unnatural phenomenon. As a result, a four-dimensional copy of the real Tōsō remained behind, indistinguishable from him in every regard, a peculiar shadow of his existence. The shadow was consumed by the onslaught which would have no doubt ended the battle there and then should Tōsō stay behind under such circumstances. It was the shadow that was drained of power and enfeebled to the point of incapacitation, a shadow whose hand Hiromasa let go of ere it vanished without a trace. At last, reality noticed that the genuine Tōsō had changed his location.

He was not waiting idly, though.

"You consider yourself a god?", he inquired with a hint of scorn. "Perhaps the air you command has hollowed out your skull."

In the meantime, his body split into four instances total with the use of Yugamiken. Transient copies of the Hakudaka bearing his power, skill and intent, capable of acting in coordination with one another for a short while. For as long as realspace was unable to cope with their abnormal existence and yielded to Tōsō's resolve. One remained stationary whilst the rest sped toward Hiromasa from different direction each. Then, the next assault commenced.

First was a clap of hands, performed with the defeaning roar of thunder, one that resonated across the area to collapse local space upon Ishikawa. The opening strike designed to hinder the swordsman's defences and reaction time. Second was a debilitating one-finger thrust, a strike of pinpoint accuracy and tremendous focus, god-felling power tearing through existence itself in a narrow beam right toward Hiromasa. The third was a two-handed X-slash done with hands standing in for blades, more than capable of emulating their role, threatening to cleave everything in twain, whether the man who was their target or the world itself. And the penultimate strike was an odd roundhouse kick, a spiralling one that defied physics and unleashed not one but several hits upon several vital points upon Ishikawa's body, each one with the crushing force of a falling star.

A preparation move and a three-pronged simultaneous assault, all performed at miniscule time intervals. But every proper manoeuvre required an ending to round it off. Thus, as the former were descending upon Hiromasa, the stationary instance of Tōsō clenched his fist, then briefly assumed a fighting stance. The second Bōkyaku was let loose, incomparable to the previous one, for every additional tendon and muscle strained, every bit of additional spiritual power poured in, every minor move making it closer to an appropriate, nigh-ritualistic performance rather than sudden appearance improved the technique exponentially. So much so that the blow vanquished a tunnel of reality occupied by Ishikawa at the moment the initial assault was transpiring, only to replace it with the undescribable colours and shapes of primordial chaos for a short, if astonishing, while. Threatening to do the same with his body.

There was a couple of things that Hiromasa disliked, the first was tenacious opponents; he really wished they'd just leave him alone, bringing them down was such a pain, unfortunately, hakudaka in particular happened to be tenacious to a fault. He'd tried to defeat him cleanly, without effort, but the other man simply insisted in stalling this out needlessly, he supposed that to Toso his very person might seem an insult. He sort of wanted to just turn around and leave, come to think of it, why didn't he? Did he even have any particular reason to fight Toso, no he didn't.. so why did he? Did he have anything to prove to Toso, no, that wasn't it, it was pointless to prove a point that was already proven. But then, why? Oh.. right, it seemed like he was in something of mood for it today, kind of.

Once more he listened to Toso's jibes and jeers out of a sense of politeness, truth be told, Hiromasa had never considered himself a god or assumed the title for himself. He often forgot about it in fact, few actual kami thought much about it, what made him a Kami was not his power alone, but the fact that he was worshipped by residents of the human world as the wind god Fuujin, the mortals even had shrines in his name. Well, it mattered little, he wasn't going to attempt to correct Toso, arguing with him was pointless and undesserving of his energy.

He'd spent so much time in self-reflection and contemplation that Toso had managed to set up his wondrous assault, and he could see four.. no five Toso's. Naturally, despite how the world around them seemed to contort and twist unnaturally, the truth of it was that it was still wind. He could've dispelled it by imposing his own domain within, such was his potency as the wielder of Murakaze, but something halted him from doing just that. Toso was trying so hard, and he looked so adorable while doing so. He'd allow him his share of fun, it was simply the right thing to do.

So, rather than taking the easy option, he decided to humor the man by dealing with his attacks as he no doubt intended. Through his last boon, Fuujin, Hiromasa could already perceive with perfect clarity what the clones intentions were; and he set his his focus upon the first one, whose initial attack was meant to leave him open to the following blows. Without a hint of effort or movement, he now stood at that clones back, just as space collapsed upon the area he'd just left, causing it to struggle and quake in a matter that almost made it look like a living creature in its death throes, he supposed that was an apt analogy, with a casual gesture he caused the clone to vanish into thin air as it was struck by the sheathed form of Murakaze.

Ishikawa noticed how the clones realigned themselves so as to strike at his current location, that was a bit of a pain, he'd had a faint hope that they'd all strike at the place he just occupied, but no such luck. His field of vision was split down the middle by what appeared to be an incoming beam of yellow energy, although his experience from sparring with Sei-chan informed him that it was in fact the pressure produced by a simple finger-thrust, whose power was fit to compete with that of most Bankai. He supposed that it was meant to be unblockable, and to all forms of defenses, it'd probably pierce right through them, but there was something that was an anomaly in such a situation.

Thus, even as the blast screeched through the air intent to make a hole straight through Hiromasa's body; all the Zanjutsu Grandmaster did was to raise the sheathed form of Murakaze to block its path. By all accounts, the object should've been destroyed by the raw amount of force heading its way, it just.. wasn't - and as the beam touched the sheath it split apart into innumerable shafts of light and disintegrated completely, cancelled out by the sheer presence of the sheathed Zanpakuto. It was a brilliant show of light, that briefly illuminated even Toso's deranged domain, like a sliver of light in the depths of depravity. Then Toso's second clone was swiftly disposed of by the touch of Murakaze, banished from existence.

Hiromasa chuckled a bit at the third clone, who attempted to use a mockery of swordsmanship performed through the body alone against him; he found the attack so uninspired and lackluster that he simply leapt over it and left it to make a massive cross-shaped crater in the ground below them, a pity, it had been a nice spot to take his numerous dates for romantic picnics. With an expression of boredom he took out the third clone in a similar manner to the two first ones. However, unexpectedly the last one gave him trouble.

Ishikawa unexpectedly found that he could not predict the attacks of the last clone as he could before, he didn't know what this meant but the surprise of not being capable of drawing upon Fuujin meant that first strike connected directly, the force of the blow was tremendous, and were it not for his Soratate absorbing a significant portion of the damage done, he might've been in a tough spot. As it was, the injury was not enough to prevent him from deflecting the remaining attacks with his palm, he supposed he might have to actually try after all. He quickly disposed of the last clone, but this movement left him wide open for the true Toso, whose fists brimmed with chaos, twisting the world around them until it soon resembled a work of deranged earth, the ground was the skies, and the heavens were the ground, the entire world had at this point been turned topsy turvy by the Yuugamiken's influence. Toso's mighty fist impacted the Zanjutsu Grandmaster with the force of a veritable meteor, causing him to cough up blood, before the weight of all chaos descended upon him, suffusing his being as it attempted to wipe out his existence by imposing disorder upon a being born of order.

But once more, it failed to find purchase and the entire technique simply fizzled out of existence, unable to grasp at a being so similar to itself. It was then that Hiromasa revealed his intent to counterattack; he hadn't been sure at first, but it was undeniable, the scope and strength of his own Murakaze was at least several magnitudes higher than Toso's Yuugamiken. Such a difference could not be overcome easily, if at all, and it was with this knowledge well in hand that Hiromasa for the first time unleashed his spiritual power. It was akin to a halo, an expansive sphere of the purest white that pushed back the twisting presence of the Yuugamiken with its sheer purity and association with the element of air; the world was returned to normal where it touched, like sunlight piercing through darkness and the presence of chaos was subdued, subjugated and supressed within its borders. Now, Hiromasa and Toso found themselves within such a sphere, a place where the Yuugamiken held little, if any power; kept down by the overbearing presence of Murakaze.

All this happened in the same moment that he was struck, and it was then that his Zanpakuto manifested at his side, in the form of six lances of the finest invory, inscribed with the imagery of twisting dragons and clouds; and each carrying the full potency of Murakaze. At Hiromasa's command they each converged upon Toso from six different angles, each spear spelling certain defeat were they to connect, and each spear imbued with both the essence of Kotetsu and Kiku-Ichimonji; making it so they would strike true regardless of any measures he might take to attempt to stop them, they would find their mark. Attempts at keeping them at bay by supernatural means were likewise rendered moot, Hiromasa's intent was to force Toso to deal with them directly, temporarily stripped of the wild card that was the Yuugamiken.

In that motion, the spears collapsed upon their target. The world shuddered then, as though it was unable to withstand even the Shikai of a Zanjutsu Grandmaster, to both combatants it would break apart like fragments of broken glass; twisted landscapes were reasserted, churning space was realigned and whole again, and soon it was revealed that the two fighters stood on a same clearing as before, and order was restored to the broken world once more.

In general, the tactic deployed by Hiromasa was sound. Were he fighting a seasoned Kidō master he would no doubt succeed in defeating the enemy. However, in stark contrast to a Kidō master, or Ishikawa himself, the source of Tōsō's power was not external but internal. For him to introduce chaos into the environment of realspace was certainly a boon, a way to reshape the battlefield to his own advantage. An action that any proficient combatant, such as the illustrious Hiromasa, would immediately counteract so as to prevent him from gaining too much ground. Unfortunately for the Zanjutsu Grandmaster, to put out the eldritch flames of Yugamiken like that was a temporary solution at best. To extinguish the blaze stirred by a dragon was reasonable and advantageous to perform, yet not quite tantamount to eliminating the dragon himself, who was ready to breathe fire once more, and again.

In order to defeat Tōsō one had to defeat the man himself. To that effect the assault launched by Murakaze transpired. While the Hakudaka was no Zanjutsu expert his intellect, experience and the extraordinary perception of a veteran martial artist all informed him of the imminent grave danger. He knew that even with Yugamiken he had to stand his ground, and to withstand the onslaught would be no easy task. Murakaze, the most powerful wind-type Zanpakutō in the whole world showed its true form to him, and while Tōsō had no respect for the man, he without question highly regarded the swordsman and his sword. He ought to, he had to react accordingly.

Yugamekyō. That was the proper response to the Shikai of the greatest Zanjutsu specialist of all time. With its instantaneous activation a self-imposed seal was broken. Then, the realm of primordial chaos, the beginning and the end of the current world, was let loose. The immaterium poured through Tōsō freely, invigorating his body, the conduit, to entirely new heights. Every aspect of his combat power was multiplied, and chaos quickly overfilled its vessel, spilling into the realspace. Plumes of red-violet energy not unlike ghastly fire, as well as serpentine currents of electrified primal energy lashed out at his surroundings, completely engulfing the Hakudaka.

With that, he was ready to stand his ground. The magnificent ornate lances were approaching fast. Each of them could spell the doom of his mission. As such, he could not let a single one as much as scratch his enlarged body. No shield or evasive manoeuvre would suffice - no, he had to act. With the ungodly power of chaos primordial now at his fingertips he performed a spectacular barrage of distorting thrusts, showering every Murakaze projectile with countless hits. With every ounce of chaos transferred with each strike disorder was introduced into the impressive attack. The shape, the form, direction, purpose and properties were all twisted in small, yet exceedingly fast-accumulating increments, ultimately reducing an artistically done assault to an incomprehensible mess.

But even that exertion was not enough. Tōsō would not risk being immersed by the grisly remains of the spears, for whatever power they could have managed to retain could still prove highly detrimental to his capacity for god-level combat. Thus, he flexed the muscles of his arms to their very limits and sunk his fingers into the fabric of space. With a colossal, if brief, strain he twisted reality about himself, wrung it like a wet rag. The notions of direction and location where momentarily replaced with pure chaos. Trapped in a vortex of inexplicable powers, the debris of the fine lances was then expelled outward, away from the Hakudaka. The effort was substantial - but worthwile.

And that was the time to start another cycle.

Down To Earth

Out of the many natural elements such a fundamental one as air was probably one of the most similar to primordial chaos, the world from time before time. To introduce disorder into air was to accomplish nothing. And while Tōsō could distort properties more profound than elements, like the laws of physics and even concepts, the fact it was air he had to contend with gave him an excellent idea.

In fact, he did not intend to kill Hiromasa. He did not intend to cripple him. Where the words failed, he wanted to convince him to his point of view and showcase, to the best of his ability, what would occur should the Zanjutsu Grandmaster continue to disregard any and all threats as a matter for others to struggle with. Perhaps the swordsman was drunk on his power, believing himself invulnerable and invincible, his head forever in the clouds. Tōsō intended to bring him back down to earth from which they all had been born of, by force if need be.

"Perhaps you should taste the dirt you refuse to tread with us", he remarked in the immediate aftermath.

Suddenly, he was on the ground. He wished so, and his supreme body brought him there in the shortest amount of time possible. Rather, he crashed into it like a miniature meteor. Then, he could set his plan in motion. The impact sent profuse amounts of debris into the air and covered his whole body with mud. The swirling tendrils of his spiritual pressure extended in all directions. The debris was swung in a peculiar whirlwind that involved no wind, but spatial distortions and the earth. The mud upon his muscles passed through the cloak of energy unscathed, for he chose to wear it as a sign of newfound unity with the Soul Society. And some of his energy seeped into the ground beneath his feet, uniting the old with the new, order and disorder, chaos and the world. The earth above collapsed upon Hiromasa like a clenched fist, the earth beneath blasted him with spears of rock, like thrusts of a finger raised in accusation, and showered with giant stone projectiles, a flurry of punches, as if Tōsō were attempting to bury him upon the sky.

And whilst the whole area was upturning and converging upon the Zanjutsu Grandmaster the Hakuda Grandmaster felt satisfied. At last he had seen both ends of the spectrum, at last he was able to act the way he was always supposed to be. In the end, he could unite both aspects of existence and savour the power born of that fusion.

The moment that Toso's body was covered in mud, he could feel as though a barrier slid into being in front of Fuujin, he was no longer capable of reading the other man as he had before, he would need to rely on his keen instincts and mastery of conventional combat from here on out, which meant, the time had come to actually try. It had been ages since he last fought seriously, he wondered if he remembered the steps, to Hiromasa, the area stood still then as he reached up to undo the clasp that bound his elaborate blue kimono in place, leaving the garment to slide off his shoulders and be pulled away by gentle gusts of wind.

Many a tale had been spun about Hiromasa Ishikawa, that he was a ten foot tall monstrosity, whose eyes could kill and breath summoned hurricanes. Mortals had this picture of him as a large green oni, holding a sack with all the four winds on his shoulder, and unless appeased with sacrifices he would unleash tornadoes and storms to get his way. As Hiromasa's physique was revealed, this proved not to be the case, next to Toso, he appeared almost spindly; with lean muscles and a fairly lithe frame by comparison. He stretched his stiff muscles then before he finally said.

"Very well, you wanted to impose your views upon me. So be it, for the sake of old companionship, WE will come at you in earnest. I can only hope I do not come to regret this decision. But know this, Toso-san, even should you succeed and best me, you will find that my ideals will not change; you are but another conqueror, so terrified of opposing views that you challenge their bearers for their thoughts."

The Wind has a Name

It was then that he finally unsheathed Murakaze, he'd drawn upon its powers before, but only briefly and transiently, all instances came and went in the span of the moment it was drawn. But now, he freed what was not only the most powerful wind-type Zanpakuto in all the spiritual worlds, but quite possibly the most powerful in the grand scheme as well. A breeze came then, ruffled through the treetops, danced with the leaves and caressed the combatants lovingly, from where he stood, Toso might distinctly hear a voice coming from a realm beyond.. the voice of a man, singing with a voice that seemed to resound all around him, it was pleasant.. then it increased in volume and the wind speds up, dancing around Hiromasa's half-naked form, for a moment, a gust of wind bearing the shape of a man reached out from emptiness and embraced the Zanjutsu Grandmaster lovingly, before it dissipated as quickly as it came.

Hiromasa turned his eyes to the heavens, where clouds were swiftly gathering above them in a perfect circle; darkening at the moment and casting the illusion of dusk upon the clearing where the two founding captains stood. Finally.. he sighed, for Murakaze chose that moment to wake, there was a groan throughout the world as everything was put into motion at once, trees were flat out erased by titanic winds that came out of nowhere, ripped open large crevasses in the ground and sent massive foundations of bedrock up into the sky where they were eviscerated in an instant; and this was the case too with the last attacked made through the Yuugamiken, the earth never reached Hiromasa, for it was broken down until there was nothing left, not even dust.

Tornadoes pierced the ground below as they formed of their own volition, tearing the surrounding landscape apart, whatever force stood in their path was eradicated, and whatever structure dared defy them defied them no longer. Meanwhile the clouds above began to swirl threateningly until at last a massive windwall descended from the heavens and tore down into the very foundation of the earth, entrapping the two fighters within a living hurricane, whose walls revolved at such speeds so as to grind whatever was caught within to nothingness within moments, white lightning then split the battlefield in twain, before it struck again, it didn't move like lightning should, for it was raw static electricity, it branched off and turned into various mystical shapes.. it was alive too, another embodiment of Murakaze.

A man laughed, a booming sound that resounded throughout the entire prison of wind, Hiromasa became wary then, what would happen, how would the world be changed.. truthfully, Hiromasa did not know. Among all the Zanpakuto of Soul Society, elemental-types were fabled for their overwhelming destructive power.. but Murakaze. Murakaze surpassed them all, to the extent that he could only hope this battle would be over soon.. otherwise Hiromasa worried that there might not be any Soul Society left to save.

It awakened in that moment, and it did so through Toso's own Yugamekyou; the technique empowered the Hakudaka immensely, by connecting him to the flow of primordial chaos.. but that energy overflowed from his body and tore at everything around it, but it was also a great burden against Murakaze. Within moments all of the overflowing energy had been conquered by the released Zanpakuto, it dominated the concept of disorder in this case and turned that disorder towards the element that most closely matched it.. its own element; wind -- such a conversion was only possible because of the similarities between the elements, but it was indeed possible. But it didn't stop there, and latched onto the very connection with chaos that Toso had and attempted to forcibly drain whatever powers he might've recieved from the technique from him continously, growing even wilder and most potent by ever passing moment and possibly outright neutralizing any gain he might get from the technique at all.

As it grew and matured, its overwhelming power sprang forth towards Toso, its speed was peerless for it was already present -all- around him, it shifted and moved like a living creature, guided and dominated by the will of Murakaze. Currents would seize ahold of him and attempt to tear him apart limb from limb, their direction never changing, never stopping, invsible claws would materialize and attempt to tear deep into his body, his very lungs would soon find themselves rebelling.. as the air within became innumerable blades that attempted to hack themselves out.. his breath, his voice, his screams, Murakaze sought to reclaim it all, and turn every movement he made, forced or otherwise into a weapon; hand gestures manifested as countless blades of air that attempted to cut through his frame many times over, reaping his energy away so quickly that he would only lie quivering after moments of enduring their assaults.

The wind changed direction as another immense current would seek to barrel into Toso, like an enormous fist whose strength was sufficient to flatten mountains and create tsunamis with the raw force of its blows.. that fist then turned into an array of spears, those of Murakaze, numbering six in total who'd seek to strike at him once again, but this time they phased in and out of existence, as though utilizing Hiromasa's own void step, in one moment they could be far away but in the next they'd attempt to pierce him in motions so fluent so as to allow hardly no amount of reaction even under ordinary circumstances, they darted in and out, and the spears bent and extended in ways unimaginable.. for they too were just physical representations of air, and whenever they struck, they would strike at his body dozens of times each, each thrust puncturing the air in blasts of raw blue light, shafts of air pressure which was then grabbed ahold of in turn by Murakaze and turned into even more expanded currents that attempted to crush, tear and impale his body.

Murakaze didn't stop there, wouldn't stop, each gesture made by anything, each movement made by air was another weapon, and thus the cycle continued, again and again, white bolts of lightning assumed the forms of birds, lions and horses as they ran across the raging skies above, by now the surroundings were nonexisting, any view of Soul Society or the true wind wall was gone, it was just quaking quivering serpentines masses of raw air, the very concept and idea of air, Order and Disorder, Balance and Chaos -- Harmony and Disharmony. It was the element of contradictions. The spectral forms then surged towards Toso from all directions, culminating in dozens of explosions of raw energy that soon vanished, absorbed by the unending maelstrom that was Murakaze. Lightning then regathered again and attempted to shock at his very core, piercing him unendingly even as lightning was replaced by Murakaze's spears.. and spears replaced by more raging currents and the sound of the spirits distinctive laughter, resounding in his own realm.

Should Toso at this point be conscious or have enough clarity to look about, he would see the silhouette of a massive leering mask within the maelstrom, with eyes sparkling with white lightning and mouth agape to consume him. It then vanished in a surge of tearing wind that once more descended upon Toso, threatening to erase his entire existence for its raw overwhelming pressure; then the spears of Murakaze once more appeared and in their midst stood Hiromasa himself, the danced in a vertical bur circular pattern behind his back before all of their points were directed at Toso; with unfailing precision they burst like white streaks of lightning, shockwaves forming in their wake, waves which were then redirected and repurposed into echos of those selfsame spears; as Hiromasa raised his katana, which now appeared to be engulfed in white energy, crackling like a tornado and thunderstorm all in one. Each of those echos struck towards Toso from every conceivable direction, even as Hiromasa brought his katana down from on high, striking ten times in the same instant, each strike exploding into twelve others.. causing a furious bladestorm that threatened to undo the Hakudaka completely were he to have but a shred of spiritual left from the might of Murakaze's endless onslaught. For a moment, the sheer resolve of his slashes briefly allowed a single ray of sunshine to break past the living maelstrom of Murakaze in which they now resided. Before his slashes, visible as mile-long silver crescents curved throughout the land, bypassing the windwall altogether.

Hiromasa hoped it was complete then, but it there was still the curtain call to make; as Murakaze drew upon the final stage of its performance of death and disorder. Centered around the two men, Murakaze created a vacuum, a sphere of torrential winds that soon engulfed them both.. as everything within a miles radius was pulled towards them, the wind wall and all the power gathered thus far all collapsed upon a single point, upon Toso, even as the sphere descended to the ground he might be forced to relive everything that had already occured in random order. until at last the sphere landed and the world went white with a cataclysmic explosion of untameable raw force; which terraformed the surrounding environment, wiped the forest clean of trees and reshaped the landscape as Murakaze willed it. Once everything cleared, Hiromasa found he had been deposited in the middle of a newly created valley. As he looked around.. he heard the voice of his Zanpakuto within his ear.

Teardrop Valley

"Welcome to Teardrop Valley."

The valley in question was breathtaking, for the formation of the rocks were unlike anything he'd ever seen; it was a large circular crater, surrounded by sharp pointed cliffs which almost resembled cresting waves.. and in the middle of the valley stood a several kilometre-tall tower of natural stone, whose form made it closely resemble a large teadrop, just as it breached the surface of a pond. It was an apt name, and a monument to Murakaze's power.

But he couldn't worry about that now, senses extended, he looked around for Toso. He really hoped he'd survived.. Murakaze lacked his mercy. He might no longer find the man attractive, and he definitely had come to find him a nuisance.. but he was still a former colleague.

And there he was. The man who for thousands of years had alternately opposed two different worlds and should have been ground to dust between them long ago, yet he perservered. He had endured the burden of shouldering their weight, and now that they were both his allies, could anyone, or anything, ever fell him again?

When the Gentle Blade turned its cutting edge toward him, Tōsō raised his shield of faith. The air of this world sought to vanquish chaos of the former one once more. Perhaps that was only appropriate? Perhaps this world did not require that chaos. After all, it had its own equivalent element, a perfect union between the two extreme states. The plumes of eldritch fire subsided, the tendrils of serpentine electricity receded, though they did not outright vanish. The red-violet aura outlined Tōsō's body, and electric currents wrapped tightly around it. The body itself seemingly obtained a prominent glow. The unkempt spiky hair turned up, like a burning flame, more wild than ever, and together with his single eye was granted a prominent red-violet tint. Instead of leaking haphazardly into the environment, the river of primordial chaos was kept closely to Tōsō himself. With that, he achieved a kind of focus he had probably never before.

Then, the calamity, an elemental catastrophe that was Murakaze's assault began in earnest. Tōsō beheld it with awe. All that torrential fury of the wind, all that disorder born of order around him... that was the perfect union between chaos and the world. The element itself did not belong to him, yet the more chaos something carried, the less harmful that was to him. Nevertheless, that was merely the foundation of the devastating onslaught. To stand idly in its wake was to await certain death regardless. That was the point when he raised his shield. His spiritual pressure formed a barrier around him, marking the borders of his Absolute Territory. Anything that pierced through was immediately blocked or deflected in a flurry of twisting limbs. His body, empowered with both Mutekitai and Yugamekyō so far beyond the realm of mortals that it was all but divine, hardened throughout countless battles and strenuous training sessions, was his redoubt. With an exertion of titanic willpower he reinforced it further still. The body was his temple and his fortress. It was a castle in the midst of a siege, a giant mountain lashed relentlessly by the four winds. It was burnt, lacerated, torn apart and crushed repeatedly. His power was drained. However, time and again, with every strike that penetrated the perdurable defences and left a mark the vessel was restorted to its former glory as a sign that Tōsō's resolve remained unwavering. Every ounce of power stripped from him was replenished from that bottomless well. For he accepted the righteous indignation of the world he had nearly abandoned, met it with unmatched tranquility. He should have been torn apart, eviscerated, eradicated, yet he endured. For that time he became the eye of the storm, peaceful in the centre of earth-shaking destruction.

The assault was unrelenting and powerful to the extreme. Eventually, it abated, for the world around it could stand the destruction for only so long. And Tōsō perservered, anchored to it, a bridge between two states of existence. Worn down, wounded, enfeebled, but still standing. His resolve shone through his spiritual power brighter than before. That was no longer the faint glow of an eclipsed moon, nor the eerie aura of a raging blaze. Rather, that was the warm, inviting shine of a newborn sun. Still covered in the mud, now dried, with the many injuries and blood upon his body arranged in a peculiar pattern he was even more resembling a golem now. An elemental of existence, perhaps, eroded by time yet virtually timeless all the same.

Afterward, he changed his location to one closer to the Zanjutsu Grandmaster through Ugokinashi, a feat of physical fitness to match the finesse of Hohō. He had heard his words, and through Shingan, the Mind's Eye, perceived the man's disposition. Evidently, he was blind to the true intent and the weight behind Tōsō's words. Misinterpreted him to be yet another monster hellbent on conquest, where he was an emissary of sheer existence. Words and fists failed, and to bring the master of air down to earth seemed futile as well. Maybe there was a different way to communicate with him and pierce the blindfold of prejucide he had himself wrapped around his head. Pierce... or burn.

"Perhaps you should burn in the fire of daily suffering that you refuse to share with us", said Tōsō solemnly.

And then he smiled. That was neither an intimidating grin nor a scornful smirk but genuine, if faint, smile of joy. Because he thought of all the people, powerless and strong alike, he could save from the despair he had suffered. He thought of the simple, happy lives they could lead in his stead. In order to match the aloof god of wind he would not rely on fury but burning passion. The same passion he used to feel long, long ago, the one that helped him achieve the exceptional level of proficiency he displayed. The one which, even when repressed and buried deep beneath his wrath and sorrow, sustained his life to that very day. Through his will and spiritual power that passion manifested externally, wreathing him in a cloak of wild, red-violet flames of incredible heat.

The attack that followed was as abrupt as one could be. At one instant Tōsō was gazing at Ishikawa with a faint smile on his dirtied, bloodied and wounded face. The next moment he was already speeding toward him, burning through the air like a shooting star. A rapid frontal attack, a meteor-fist approaching Hiromasa's face... only to vanish, for that was merely a sophisticated afterimage. The real Tōsō moved from the opposite side and finished the blow within the same instant. Then, as he retreated he spun about his horizontal axis, both of his legs rotating upward in a two-pronged windmill kick. The moment the motion was complete and Tōsō was on his feet he attacked again, first with a volley of thrusts, then a swipe of a cutting hand, and a series of overlapping punches that seemed to descend upon the Zanjutsu Grandmaster from all possible directions. Ultimately, he jumped and spun his body in a spiral, his legs moving in a shearing motion to strike Ishikawa's head from two sides, lock it between them and force him to the ground with a sudden twist. And throughout that assault he was set ablaze, unleashing scorching heat and torrential flames with every strike, only to seemingly engulf Hiromasa during the last manoeuvre with plumes of red-violet flames.

So he'd survived, that was a relief, but the fact that the other man refused to give in was such a pain, tenacity was such a nuisance. Even so, he supposed he might as well see this through now that he'd come this far, even his talents would rust unless honed after all. Unlike the other man, Hiromasa could care less about Toso's desires and need to be a messiah of the world, he'd welcome him to that opportunity: unfortunately, while Ishikawa was willing to accept their differences, something about his worldview seemed unforgiveable to the Hakudaka. Attempting to reason with Toso was meaningless, he was so set in his ways that he was unable to even attempt to understand Hiromasa's position; which made proper intellectual discourse futile.

"I see you refuse to back down, although I'd wish otherwise. Whatever the results of this childish game of ours, understand this, Seireitou-chan too understands the importance of maintaining balance. You will find as much purchase with him as with me."

Hiromasa could sense Toso's intentions once more, for Murakaze's efforts had proven effective at peeling the mud off of Toso, thus awakening the powers of Fuujin again. Although the overwhelming power of Murakaze had vanished from sight, he was still present all around them; his Shikai was still at full power. Even though it enjoyed pretending otherwise.

Soratate was usually invisible in combat, for its presence only truly manifested in response to attacks made against Hiromasa. It had served him well, significantly decreasing the damage of Toso's earlier blows -- but with Murakaze released, its presence greatly changed. What was once unseen now revealed itself as a screeching sphere of winds revolving so quickly that anything that came into contact with it was deformed. It was akin to a circle of endless blades, that grinded apart anything that dared enter its protective influence, whether they be techniques, attacks or the very adversaries themselves. Where he stood, the ground underneath him had been shaved and deformed into a perfect spherical depression, whose minerals had been grinded down into a perfectly smooth surface, accomplishing what might've taken centuries for ordinary wind to achieve in mere seconds. Unlike its sealed equivalent, this version of Soratate was immensely durable to all manners of attacks, except for attacks of Earth and Fire made by someone with a mastery of those elements, of which Toso was neither. Even should it be destroyed, it would reform shortly afterwards, returning in full force.

Whether Toso had realized that Fuujin was back in effect or not, he still prepared himself to attack again, this time it appeared as though he intended to use the second weakness afforded to him by his second boon, Hikuki. Wind fed flame, that was something most understood, it was the natural law of the world, and as an ascended being, a Kami of Wind; fire reacted in its presence as it would to air, increasing in potency, intensity and power greatly by merely being within his general vicinity. Such was the case too with Toso's assault, and as he drew ever closer the flames and heat increased explosively, until he at last appeared more like a living inferno of red-violet flames than a Hakudaka. Needless to say, Fuujin was once more unable to read his movements, obscured as they were by the literal fires of Toso's passion. Yet even despite its absence, Hiromasa was not fooled by the first 'attack' made by his adversary, many such attempts had been made on him, and in each case only the hakudaka's exceptional ability and experience had saved him from an immediate defeat. He doubted that Toso would take that chance with Murakaze fully released like this. Despite his best efforts, Toso was no fool.

Thus, as his adversary approached from behind, Hiromasa had already spun around and split the air in twain with a single strike; but instead of flying blades his slash manifested like a dozen whirling twisters that sprung out from emptiness and whose winds were like blades, rending the surrounding area asunder as they simultaneously forged a wall to contain the flames, preventing both them and Toso from even reaching the protective sphere around Hiromasa. Then the twisters converged upon the Hakudaka, assuming forms that would seem impossible, as they slithered and moved about like living things, akin to snakes of wind attempting to bite, strike, pull and rip at his vessel. So intense was the struggle that they further derformed the area around them. Their 'bodies' coiling about him as the flames combusted their very bodies and turned them into living rivers of fire, miracolously capable of remaining solid and dense even in the face of their elemental weakness. As he'd be preoccupied by these, Hiromasa's spears would streak through the emerging firestorm, their tips empowered by Kotetsu once more as each spear echoed as they had before, forming a veritable shower of mighty thrusts that left the surrounding area looking as though it had just endured the impact of dozens of falling meteorites.

Soon, the pyre would only grow as Murakaze kept feeding the flames and assaulting him by serpents of wind, its own spears and the echos thereof; alongside the raging inferno which had now been fanned forth by the Spirit and Grandmaster working in unison. Each tendril of flame was guided by the will of Murakaze, for just as it was a weakness, it was a possible source of strength too for combatants as experienced as Ishikawa, fire grew in strength in the presence of wind, yes, but there was a duality there, for without wind fire would not spread as it did. Thus, the element of wind managed to dictate both the form, path and very flow of fire, and so it did. The firestorm was contained, localized with Toso at its very epicenter, as it whirled and assume the shape of a massive tornado of blue fire, contained yet destructive beyond comprehension of most who'd challenge it.

Within this column of flame, streaks of lightning emerged, the visual representation of Murakaze's spears which moved about within like fish in a moving river, each emerging as a thick bolt of white lightning that sought to end the battle then and there by landing a clean hit on the presumeably occupied Hakuda Grandmaster. It was a glorious display to any outsider, the opposing elements of wind and flame made to work as a greater whole. But it had to end eventually, and the end was heralded as Murakaze sucked all flames away and into a single point centered on the Hakudaka, before unleashing all of the built up inferno in a single concentrated point; as a large sphere of inward-blowing air was formed around the detonating point. Containing all of that destructive potential within small point, and thus immensely increasing its focus and threatening to cremate within the very pyre that Toso himself had set the spark for.

The tempestuous snakes coiling about Tōsō tore his skin, strained his muscles and shook his bones, lashing his body mercilessly. But he would prevail. His body, mind and soul were united in formidable defence further empowered by the primordial chaos, and together offered stout resistance. The mighty titan-felling spears threatened him with impalement. But he would prevail. Every projectile that entered his Absolute Territory was immediately detected, targeted and struck down with swift, nigh-imperceptible blows of power undescribable. The currents of bedazzling lightning followed, the god's wrath, in order to smite the brazen mortal. But he would prevail. Every bolt was met with a two-fingered thrust of comparable strength and split apart. His body was battered further still, its structure shaken, he was enfeebled and singed, losing another portion of his power. However, he endured once more.

And then, the illustrious Zanjutsu Grandmaster, Hiromasa Ishikawa, committed a critical mistake. There was no substance to his onslaughts, as devastating and comprehensive they were, otherworldy spectacles to behold fueled by childish stubborness and annoyance. In that, he gravely misunderstood the man struggling before him to convey a message. The swordsman's shallow disposition indirectly led to the battle, and now he had to pay for his superficiality during that very battle. The flames Tōsō had procured were not a manifestation of an elemental ability, nor were they a simple side-effect of a powerful spirit bending the laws of physics. He would have little control over those, after all. No, they were an expression of his specialty and his intent. They were the burning passion of a martial artist externalised, born of, fueled and guided by his unwavering resolve.

Tōsō had already realised that to fight Hiromasa's wind with his own chaos was futile. Despite their inherent similarities and some mutual benefits the Zanjutsu Grandmaster would most likely emerge victorious in that struggle owing to other factors. But the latter evidently did not recognise he had devoted himself so in a situation analogous yet with their roles opposite. He thought he wrested control of the supernatural flames from the Hakudaka only to use them for his own purposes. In fact, he had been moulding and boosting no ordinary fire but the externalised desire of his former colleague, which of course was not subject to any kind of control but Tōsō's own. Was that the consequence of arrogance, or the same shortsightedness that was part the reason for sparking this conflict?

The martial artist himself had no time to ponder about that issue. He had incurred additional, significant damage in the concurrent assault. But that was not the end. Outside of death the possibilities of stopping him once he was dedicated sincerely to a goal were so limited that, in general, they could be outright ignored. Both his body and his soul were weakened again, but his indefatigable willpower sustained them. In an ironic turn of events Hiromasa had aided Tōsō greatly. All the latter had to do was to dispel the illusion of having lost control of what was literally a part of him. With the blue flames engorged and focussed beyond reason, he wreathed his own arms in the scorching heat, unaffected by the burning of his own passion. Then, was the time to strike. No ordinary strike, in spite of its apparent simplicity. For since a very long time he had not performed such a blow. His whole existence clenched into two fists. For the briefest moment his body assumed an appropriate stance, legs bent in the knees, torso slanted forward, arms withdrawn in preparation. Subsequently, two blazing stars were launched toward the Zanjutsu Grandmaster in an instant.

The death of a twinned supernova seemed to have graced that realm. Fortunately, Tōsō spared it from devastation as he guided the unfathomable bursts of fire and heat away from the world, so that they would attempt to consume the obstinate swordsman alone. Would that blow, with an earth-shattering power and intent clear as day finally break the wall Hiromasa had erected around his mind? Would that finally open his eyes to the whole issue Tōsō had attempted to explain and illustrate to him? Would that remind the god of wind that he was an integral part of the world he was determined to let die through his inaction? Maybe, maybe not. The Hakudaka himself was blown away, the mere recoil of his attack sufficient to propel him toward the ground. He carved a ditch in the surface, once more submerged in mud. Nevertheless, he immediately gazed upon the scorched sky to witness the result of his endeavour. Would that be enough? He waited, catching breath in that short while of rest in the middle of divine combat.

Ishikawa's expression was a curious one as relief and dissapointment both manifested on his angular features. Why was it so difficult to get a Hakudaka to lie down in defeat, why did Toso insist on standing up again and again. Such a hassle, he wanted to cuddle up with a handsome man, preferably two, one for each arm and enjoy a nice cup of sake, why'd he have to run into someone as pig-headed as his colleague. Sometimes, life just wasn't fair. Still, it was a relief to see him so sprightly and full of energy, it meant he wasn't that hurt. Hiromasa's eyebrows raised in silent contemplation as he noticed that the flames that Murakaze had fanned into a firestorm were not true flames at all.. he had just assumed that they were. Toso was indeed correct, the Zanjutsu Grandmaster had indeed made a mistake, but it wasn't a crucial mistake, merely an enlightening one.

Toso's willpower, resilence and raw passion had assumed the spectral form of flames; and so intense was those feelings that they had managed to fool Murakaze into, if only briefly, reacting as though they were indeed genuine flames. His presence had incited them further, for he was the object of those emotions -- thus by the truth of his own power, he'd lent credence to their existence, fanning them into a pyre that might overcome him had they struck true. Was that a sign that he secretly wanted to follow Toso, that he deep down agreed with his worldview? Unlikely. Still, for but a moment, Toso's raw will and tenacity had obscured the heavens, driven a wedge between Domain and Kami, Man and Zanpakuto. Hiromasa could not help a faint twinge of admiration then, and he allowed a genuine smile to grace his lips.

"You're a fascinating man, Kentarō Akiyama. I should've liked to meet the you of the past.. I think I might've liked him." As he spoke those words, Hiromasa's demeanour changed into one of abject sincerity, and there was a gentleness reflected in his features that reinforced the truth of that sentiment.

With no attempt to flee or prepare himself, Hiromasa simply observed as Kentaro Akiyama forged his own will, his view of justice into a superficially mighty attack. It rippled outwards like a miniature sun, so vibrant, so brilliant in its form that it threatened to burn out Ishikawa's eyes. Its intention was to cremate him, to consume him within a pyre of Toso's burning passion, to make him see reason. In many ways.. the attack was like the man behind it, misguided, and made in order to force a point across; they were flames fanned from a desire to change the world by his own hands. Without understanding the purpose of the change in question, or whether the world truly warranted changing at all.

Like the spiritual expression of their argument that it was, Hiromasa raised neither wind nor blade against it, to do so would be cowardice. Instead he simply walked quietly towards the incoming blast, his Soratate dispersing, he would require no protection from this attack; for it was one doomed to failure. As it neared him, Hiromasa raised his right hand.. and physically stopped the blast dead in its tracks through the might of Tengen. Such overwhelming force was contained within it, but yet it could not find purchase, could not move forwards.. denied.. refuted. Fuujin briefly served as a guide to Toso's intentions then, understanding the feelings he'd put in the blast the same way swordsmen might know their adversary as they clashed blades. Ultimately, Hiromasa felt he'd seen enough, and closed his hand shut upon the phenomena.

In an instant, the entire blast was eradicated from existence through the power of Tengen: like a metaphor for what had transpired between them up until that point. At Hiromasa's gesture, there was nothing left, and this time, it had not flared up and harmed him as fire would, for now the spell had been broken and the truth revealed. It wasn't flame.. it had been but a mimicry, and only pure flame could harm him as it should. Nevertheless, he now understood that Toso was not deranged, and genuinely wanted what he thought was best for the world. If nothing else, he'd gotten his point across.. but it changed nothing.

Hiromasa made no attempt to counterattack, perhaps he hoped that his show of force against a manifestation of Toso's very will was enough. Instead he spoke once more. "I understand you a bit more now.. Kentarō. You may not be a man who seeks destruction anymore.. but while you have the mind of a saviour... within your chest beats the heart of a conqueror. No matter your intentions, as you are now, you are no less a danger to the world than The Coven which you seek to oppose. Reach a point of personal enlightenment and calm the storm that rages within as mine does outside. But until you do, leave the world to mortals."

The man born as Kentarō Akiyama, the Founding Captain of the Third Division of Gotei 13, observed the situation unfold calmly. Then, he stood up. And while that was a simple action generally unworthy of any attention, the sheer fact of how human that motion was, a bloodied and wounded man covered in dirt standing up slowly after yet another fall, made it almost poignant to behold. That was the very thing that Tōsō sought to represent. His prowess as a supreme martial artist, his innate connection to the primordial chaos were only his tools. At the end of the day he was merely another man, defiant in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds, unwilling to succumb to a grave threat and fighting until the end of time.

The attack he had performed, whilst extremely powerful and profound, was thwarted. However, that was not a complete failure. The flames seemed to have had dispersed in futility, once again halted by the impenetrable wall erected by the outstanding Zanjutsu Grandmaster. But a crack did appear. Not a physical one, but psychological. Akiyama, Tōsō, sensed a hint of genuine understanding from his former colleague. He had finally accepted a half of the Hakudaka's message. What was left was to convey the latter, perhaps more important half in a manner that Ishikawa would treat with all the seriousness that it deserved. For that, he had to be stripped of the things that appeared to cloud his judgement, misleading him with a false sense of security and detachment.

For that, he had to witness what Tōsō truly was.

Dark Before Dawn

"I am a mortal", he spoke, still with a faint smile on his scarred face. "We are mortals. We are as much part of this world as any commoner. There is no reason to differentiate us from others", he paused for a short while, completing the next cycle and beginning anew. "They say that night is the darkest before dawn. I do no longer consider it necessary to lead others by hand toward the sunrise. They can wait. I can wait. But there is a powerful group of people worse than I have ever been. What I cannot stand for is for them to drag everyone into the eternal darkness, depriving them of sunlight for the rest of their lives."

After those words he straightened up. His body became tense, but the countenance remained relaxed. Although mundane senses would betray no noticeable change his body, mind and soul were suddenly united to a degree so much greater than before that it was simply incomparable. His attitude, his worldview, his goal and experience joined in an immaculate fusion born through the catalyst of his outstanding martial arts prowess. Like a beacon of spiritual power he shone brightly, together with the gleam of his undying determination and crystal clear intent. Every ounce of his remaining energy was activated and condensed, every pertinent aspect of his existence rose to the very peak. With that, his entire body became solid red-violet in colour, almost spectral in appearance, and his immediate surroundings appeared to be contorted slightly.

Both men were exceedingly stubborn. But where Hiromasa was selfish Kentarō was selfless. Violent, true, perhaps unnecessarily so, but there was a good reason for his behaviour. For the purpose of this half-conversation, half-battle, he deliberately decided to play the role of the villain. For that, he wanted to display the magnitude of despair and madness a single man could suffer, much less thousands or millions. He wanted to display what a single powerful man could do and highlight the threat of an organisation of much greater power. He wanted to scold the unequalled, yet aloof swordsman, the master of air. He was as fundamental for the integrity of the Soul Society as the air that he wielded. How could he distance himself so from everything else? How did he expect the average people to survive without air? Was he willing to let them all suffocate?

Kentarō Akiyama, the man known as Tōsō, that is "strife", for what he represented, was about to find out.

"You forgot your role in this world, Hiromasa Ishikawa. Witness, then, the insanity we are headed toward. Witness the kind of change you are willing to let happen out of ill-perceived tolerance. For once, share the experience of a commoner powerless in its wake", he announced whilst lifting both of his arms.

The aura of Yugamekyō was consumed by his glowing body. In turn, the same glow permeated the whole area. Rock formations, cliffs, water, even the ground itself obtained the same tint, the colour of nobility stained with the blood of the innocent. Meanwhile, the currents of electrified energy slithered across the space in all directions, rapidly forming an intricate network not unlike a spider web of lightning around both of the Grandmasters. Then, Tōsō closed his only eye. His body, mind and soul had been united and now they sought to establish their dominance. There was calm and quiet for a short while. Afterward, a single potent ripple emanated from the Hakudaka, as if someone cast a pebble in the surface of reality. The whole world shook in its foundations, resonated, shuddered at what was about to occur.

Yugameyo.

There was a sound of a breaking glass. And indeed, the web of lightning formed cracks in the plane of existence only for the universe to shatter into a myriad shards. Portions of reality began sailing uncontrollably around the two men, offering glimpses at the mundane world before they vanished without a trace. In their place a new realm was introduced, or rather, reinstated. At last, the final seal upon Tōsō had been undone. He was no longer a conduit for the primordial chaos. He became the anchor of the world from time before time, allowing it to dominate once more, if temporarily. The strain upon the Hakudaka's resolve was tremendous, and even his colossal willpower was now being drained slowly to sustain that realm. However, the boons offered by its appearance were worthwhile. His stamina was now virtually limitless, his strength, toughness and nimbleness otherworldly.

More than that, he was now immersed in his own element, the sole sovereign of an otherwise ungovernable world. A world where the notions of time and space were twisted beyond recognition to someone who knew only order, someone who had not been suffused with disorder since the beginning of one's life. A world of indistinct shapes and colours reaching as far as one could see. A world that Tōsō himself seemed to be an integral part of, a wraith rather than man with what seemed to be miniature universes coming to life and dying within his form. A devil, a god, or neither, his true self nonetheless. A world... without air. There was no trace of elements inherent to the modern universe. There was only chaos. In fact, almost any other being brought into this realm would sink into oblivion instantly. Only someone as immensely powerful and skilled as Ishikawa could survive in the midst of tangible madness, a single remnant of realspace.

And then the madness attacked him. An uppercut punch. A flurry of thrusts targeting vital points. A knee kick. A backhand. A horizontal spinning kick. An elbow strike. Blow after blow, thrust after thrust, kick after kick, a barrage of devastating physical attacks unending. Were they performed by a single man or several? That was difficult to tell, for the spectral form of Tōsō constantly changed location, sometimes one, sometimes many, sometimes none appearing to the mundane and spiritual senses alike. Were they performed in a specific sequence, or all at the same time? How could one tell with their direction and timing distorted, the strikes overlapping or anticipating one another in a brazen mockery of causality and timespace? Their background, their delivery was unnatural, though the strikes themselves were mundane. Flawless, powerful, precise, but ordinary, as great as one could expect of a Hakuda Grandmaster but devoid of any but the most basic properties.

They were a symbol. Tōsō was the villain, Hiromasa the common man. The primordial chaos around him was a grotesque caricature of the world, vast and incomprehensible to the average person. And the blows themselves were the misfortunes and crimes that befell the common man, abrupt, unpredictable, lightning fast and overwhelming. Unrelenting. The nightmarish spectacle continued with Tōsō gradually depleting his remaining resources but unwilling to stop. That was his mission. To convey the message that could help save the world. There laid the sole concession Tōsō did in order to accomplish his goal: for all the drastic measures he had undertaken to knock some sense into his colleague, the strikes were absolutely free of killing intent. They were more than capable of shattering defences, pursuing in the wake of evasive maneouvres and overwhelming countermeasures, but none of them would kill even on direct impact. Blow after blow, admonishing rather than crippling.

Hiromasa stood still as Toso used what was possible his grandest technique, so this was the full potential of the fellow founding Captain. It was truly a sight to behold, and even a man of his power felt strained somehow to even be in this chaotic space, his eyes watered as he sought to make sense of a world that seemed to be perpetually in motion. Hadn't his bond with Murakaze anchored him, and hadn't that bond overpowered the chaos, he might've lost all sense of self and become lost within the world of Toso's making; Yugameyo was definitely a dangerous technique, and the pinnacle of Toso's craft as a martial artist. He felt a strange sense of pride that the other man had seen fit to show him his greatest expression, and although it wasn't strictly neccessary and might well end up costing him his life, Hiromasa would repay that gesture with one of equal value.

It was fortunate that Yugameyo had made a world unto itself, a world separate from Soul Society and likewise capable of containing the immense power of his Bankai, or so he hoped.. assuming he restrained it as best he could. Well, there was no around it but make the attempt, he supposed, as he saw how the distorted plane around him manifested silhouettes of Kentaro's comely figure. By the looks of it, his adversary was readying himself for one last clash.

"It has been a pleasure, Kentaro-san, your handsome countenance has brightened my day considerably. In appreciation for the gesture you've shown me, I shall repay it in kind."

Fūjin Unleashed

He raised his katana up into the air, as all the spears of Murakaze gathered behind him an elegant flower pattern, whirling about in a circular pattern. Hiromasa tucked his legs underneath himself, hovering in mid-air, seeming infinitely small against the vastness of the Yugameyo. He could sense the ripples of this chaotic plane as it poised itself to overwhelm his existence, It was not without a twinge of fear he recited the next word.

"Bankai.."

Chaos dissolved then, unable to withstand the weight of those very words, steeped as they were in tradition, order and purpose; shadows ceased to exist, the attacks made against Hiromasa discorporated into the very essence of air, which within the span of a single moment achieved total sovereignty over Yugameyo. Turning it into the domain of Fuujin, the Kami of Wind, there was no struggle, not even a short battle of wills, for before the divine power of Hiromasa's Bankai, such matters were pointless, vain attempts by mortals to reach for the stars. For a time, he simply observed the expression of his adversary, as they suddenly found themselves in a world where the very essence of wind reigned supreme, where currents of air coiled, danced and entwined itself like a thousand slithering serpents, a place where gusts of air turned into silhouettes of animals of the sky which streaked across the empty space. But Hiromasa knew that this realm held unfathomable danger, for the spirit of Murakaze was at its strongest here.

Nevertheless, the time had come to finish this matter; he'd repay Toso's respect by showing him something that no one had witnessed for a thousand years, the power of his Bankai. However, Ishikawa knew what unspeakable havoc it might unleash should he use it foolishly and so it was that he simply manifested a single spear out of thin air, hefted it up above his and spoke to Toso. "Live, Kentaro-san." Before he hurled the spear through the air the Hakudaka while uttering the name of his Bankai.

"Murakaze Tengekidō."

It hadn't been a particularly involved attack, in fact, despite its apparent power; it was ultimately just a basic spear throw. But even so, the raw effect it had was tremendous, so far beyond the very idea of elemental potency that it seemed surreal, for even as it streaked through the air, it was almost as if all wind, all air and all gathered force flew alongside it, as though it defined the direction the winds of the world might blow. Before the two grandmasters eyes, the entire world of the Yugameyo, now a vast windscape was folded and funneled into that lone singular spear, and when it reached Toso, it did so with the force of a thousand hurricanes -- its presence replaced with that of a humongous serpent of wind. Hundreds of feet in length which opened its lightning-filled maw and apparently consumed the hakudaka whole in such overwhelming currents that the martial artist was swept away by powers beyond imagining.

The world born from Toso's use of Yugameyo could not contain the powers that be, and even before their eyes began to strain viciously, ripping and fraying at the edges like tearing fabric before the entire world burst apart as though clawed to shreds by invisible hands. Without anything left to contain it Hiromasa's attack sprung forwards across the vast area of wilderness where the two grandmasters had been fighting, as it curled and turned in an elaborate pattern with the Hakudaka at its head it reshaped the land around it, new mountain ranges arose from nothing and existing ones were flattened; forests were wiped clean, and entire lakes took to the skies.. and where it moved it formed a grand canyon which would later fill with the enormous rush of water from above to form new rivers and lakes in the place of those it destroyed.

Above it whirling columns of clouds formed, dark with the promise of raging storms and torrential rain; tornadoes were once more whipped into existence to wreak havoc on areas within a radius of many miles, it was almost as if the world was being reshaped by the hand of a god; who had tired of its look and wanted to remake it in his own image. Few onlookers could guess at the authenticity of even such a wild claim, not until the saw the man high above, flying close to the very center of a circular formation of cloud; a man with white hair and beard with a fluttering hakama of blue, holding in his hand a single ceremonial spear. Below him the essence of wind he had unleashed ravaged the land still.. whatever had happened with Toso was something he dreaded to think.. had he gone too far, should he have restrained himself a bit more? Having a Bankai like that was a burden to bear, Kentaro should be grateful it wasn't his.

Ishikawa looked to the clouded and raging skies at that point, he would need to undo the havoc he'd caused and prevent the wind from running completely out of control; lest it would kill thousands upon thousands of souls. Especially those in the outer reaches of the rukon districts. With practised easy he spun about his spear in his hand like a millwheel, before he finally hurled the still spinning weapon into the center of the skies above -- upon reaching that point it began to spin in reverse, as the darkening clouds, the tornadoes, twisters and hurricanes which had sprung forth from the use of his Bankai were sucked back into their source.. even the humongous serpent of wind that represented the very essence of air discorporated into clouds that joined with Murakaze once more. Within minutes, the skies were calm and the wind quiet, the sun shone brightly from above and the skies were blue like a nice summers day.

With the chaos of his Bankai undone he resealed his Zanpakuto slowly; before he moved through the air for a few feet before vanishing into nothingness and reappearing at where Fujin told him Toso presently was.. hopefully he wouldn't encounter a corpse. And there the Hakudaka was: wounded, exhausted, defeated but alive.

He had intended to aggravate his otherworldly assault, intensify it in increments to symbolise the ever-escalating ferocity with which reality attacked the common man. However, once more the response from his opponent was as immediate as it was debilitating. And this time, in spite of fighting very nearly at the peak of his capacity, Kentarō was not able to hold his ground in the wake of a divine power. The memory of chaos primordial was blown away by all the wind in the world until it faded away into nothingness. The man, the anchor perservered for a while. Targeted by a single titan-felling spear he reacted. He met the projectile with a single punch, a world-shattering blow that shattered dimensional space between the two. Two opposing energies met in the following instant. There was a brief struggle... and where Tōsō's resolve remained undefeated, his body finally yielded to the superior might of Hiromasa.

That was the reason why after the earth-shaking devastation he was found still alive. That was the reason why, despite being unable to continue fighting, he was still conscious. Calm. He had lost a fight, but that was not a defeat to mourn. After all, did not Hiromasa represent the common man? His victory meant that the world could defend itself successfully against a grave threat, even when caught off guard, even when damningly passive as it was coming. That was excellent. The world would not crumble instantly when attacked. It could hold, await a helping hand. There was no need to hurry, no need to make rash decisions.

Akiyama stood up slowly. Once more he was a man born of this world, his ethereal aspects, even the distinct glow of Yugamekyō completely gone. The enlarged form of a god of war radiated away in plumes of spiritual energy emanating from his body, healing his wounds in the process. Once more, he was Kentarō Akiyama. The man who had wandered this world for a thousand years, misguided, but who recently found the right way to accomplish his unchanging goal. He sought a powerful ally in this battle, but experienced another revelation instead. He gazed upon Ishikawa with a very faint smile on his tired face.

"I am grateful for your attention. I understand your unwillingness to involve yourself in the matters of Soul Society again. I also understand that the world does not need a tyrant to fight other tyrants. The people of Soul Society may fight for themselves when the time comes... but at the darkest hour, what invaluable help would it be, to know of the air still around them, to be able to take a deep breath and carry on", with those words, he bowed to the Zanjutsu Grandmaster. "Farewell, Hiromasa Ishikawa-ue. Perhaps we shall see one another again."

Then, he turned away and began marching in a direction of destination only he could possibly know of.