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Zume Tatasuko V.S Shota Koki


The tournament was off to an amazing start - crowd was pumped up by the opening match, that much was evident. And although it seemed as if the few matches that followed it served as a bathroom break, that was about to come to an end. The man stepping out onto the field was the star of the show. The destined finalist that brought the crowd to its feet once again. Cheers coming from the ladies. Boos coming from the men.

Shota grinned as he walked towards the center, basking in the attention. He did some shadow boxing, partially to warm up his muscles, but more to make the crowd happy. After sending kisses in the direction of a few lucky ladies, Shota turned to the other side of the field. For some reason, he wasn't informed about his opponent, something about a guy that was among the last ones to sign up. That fact brought a smirk on his face; if someone was almost late to sign up for the tournament, it was surely someone whom Shota could easily beat.

He brought his fist into the air victoriously as he awaited his foe.

Unaware, but undaunted by whomever his opponent might be, Zume finished his stretches out of sight of any other contestants. He was lucky, no one else from the 12th division had signed up, and so he was alone in his waiting room. Thus he'd already done his physical, mental, and spiritual exercises before it was time for his match. Now prepared for his opponent, Zume briefly closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before releasing it slowly and allowing several mental gears to fall into place. On the surface nothing appeared to change, but beneath it within the unique structure of the captain's mind much was altered. His Archetype had not switched, but the persona below it had swapped somewhat so as to best utilize the research he'd done the two previous days.

With this in place, and his plan in mind, he opened his eyes and exited the division, walking towards the platform upon, which his debut in the tournament would be witnessed. The crowd, having gone wild from his opponent's entrance, now began to realize who that man's adversary would be. There was an almost gentle smile on his features as he walked calmly towards the platform. There was a murmur that began to rush through and he too saw a number of females covers their mouths, or put a hand to their chests when they realized it was him. He had always been rather well liked, but unlike Shota, he was not booed by anyone in particular. Rather, instead of an uproar, the arena began to quiet down somewhat. With each step the crowd's anticipation built.

By now, Zume had identified Shota as his opponent, at which he smiled, for the lieutenant was a skilled practitioner. This would make his test all the more intriguing. His potentially tremendous spiritual pressure narrowed down to the pressure of a low seated officer, Zume stepped onto the platform and respectfully bowed his head to Shota, before raising it, and removing his haori. He handed it to one of the division members near the platoform and then rolled his neck a bit to appear as if he still need to loosen up --he didn't. "Hello Shota," Zume's smooth, fluid voice said, it was like a warm soothing liquid was being poured over the skin. Wonderfully refreshing, and causing a relaxing sensation to those who heard it. At the same time it was alluring, regardless of gender, which was likely due to the man's incredible charisma. Though of course he was dealing with Shota, who was charismatic in his own way. "I hope there will be no enmity between us, regardless of who walks out of here victorious," his eyes danced with amusement, as if he hardly perceived the lieutenant as a threat.

Oddly, Zume was known to not practice hakuda in the least, even to be disinterested in it, so the very fact that he was participating was strange in and of itself. Still, Zume was not known for defying rules where they needed to be upheld, so there was no reason to doubt his methods. Still, it was strange. The captain wondered what the others would think...and specifically he wondered what Shota would think. He would know soon enough.

Out of all opponents waiting in the shadows for their turn, Captain of the Twelfth Division would have never been Shota's guess for his first adversary. Or his adversary at any stage of the competition, for that matter. He had a slight reservation towards facing a Captain so early on, but luckily for him, that Captain ended up being Zume. Sure - he was a highly intelligent, dangerous, charismatic individual. A powerful competition, without a doubt; but it was known around Soul Society that the Twelfth Division wasn't exactly the best in Hakuda. Which in turn meant that being paired with Zume might even be a better turn of events for him that he had hoped for.

The thing that bothered Shota the most was the sudden decrease in crowd volume. Everyone anticipated something special the moment they set their eyes on Zume and, to be quite honest, Shota was interested as well. Why would a Captain that wasn't skilled in hand to hand combat enter the competition? Shota may not be as intelligent as Zume, but even he knew there was some higher goal behind it. Zume's reason for participating was surely not something as meager as mere fighting. But the answer was out of Shota's grasp.

Not like it mattered.

"My greetings, Captain." Shota said, bowing down to express the same amount of respect Zume did. "You speak as if there is a chance you will walk out victrious," he continued with a smirk as he looked Zume straight in his eyes. If Zume was here to prove anything, Shota will not be the one on whose expense it will be proven. If anything, Shota will prove he can beat a Captain. And he will prove that he is more charismatic than him, while he is at it. There is no excuse for someone coming in and stealing hearts of the ladies that Shota worked so hard to melt.

Turning his gaze to the side-lines, Shota looked at the Captain Commander, nodding in his direction before turning his focus back to Zume. He wondered for whom would Goken cheer. Him and Shota were like best of friends lately, but it was known that Zume had a history with Goken. Scratching the back of his head, he pushed those thoughts out of his head - he will make everyone cheer for him.

The man that stood in front of him was an amazing analyst, so attacking first would only prove to be disadvantageous for Shota. Which is the main reason for him extending his hands towards Zume, all whilst waiting for the sign to start. "As a sign of respect, you can make the first move. I wouldn't want to knock you out with one... shot."

A smart move, Zume thought, chuckling lightly at the younger shinigami's words. However, rather than rush towards his adversary, Zume calmly walked towards him, but only after they had been given the go ahead. "You seem to think me a pushover just because of what you've heard," his smile persisted as he made the statement, no real alteration in his expression occurring.

As he came within two meters of Shota, he turned and began circling him, eyes ceasing to follow his form as he appeared to glance at the crowd, relaxed. He wanted to see what would win, Shota's youthful enthusiasm, or his common sense. Zume noted some of the captains who had showed up, as well as several others, including Hanayaka and a certain Majime, two individuals who interested him somewhat. This would prove to serve more of a purpose than his primary goal, it seemed. Wonderful, his eyes shifted back to Shota, not that he had stopped paying the boy mind at any point. by now he was about to start walking behind the shinigami. If Shota attacked before his gaze looked at him again, Zume's reactions would alter, he planned for such, but for now he would wait and test the boy's resolve to not attack first.

However, if Shota did not make any move to strike, Zume would get at an angle to Shota's left arm, and then swivel on his heels, once towards Shota. This motion would make it appear as if he were going for some form of spin kick, but instead he would retreat with the second swiveling turn. If interrupted, he would adapt as he planned. One could never allow their opponent to regain their composure once it was lost, this was essential.

"Oh, c'mon. Show some life," Shota said loud and clear, as his eyes followed Zume. He was walking towards him, calm as ever. It seemed that he didn't perceive Shota as a viable threat. That wasn't charismatic, nor smart. That was just plain arrogant, and it bothered Shota.

Because Shota was never, ever arrogant.

He wanted to give Zume the opportunity to attack first, so he could prosper in the end. It wasn't an act of kindness, nor a resolve of some sort. And if Zume wanted to circle around him to test the boy and his patience, he found the wrong target for that. Shota hated tests. He gave him a chance and Zume wasted it - Shota wasn't keen on giving him another one. He who attacks first, wins. Once he gets worked up, there was no way for Zume to stop him and Shota firmly believed that. He watched Zume make another step, grin resting on the red-haired boy's face. At the moment Zume's foot stepped firmly on the ground, Shota shifted his weight to his left foot. "My turn."

As he quietly uttered out those words, his right leg was launched full force towards Zume's left ribcage. But that wasn't his entire plan - unlike Zume, he probably wasn't able to plan the whole fight out, but he was able to think two - sometimes three - moves ahead. And this was one of those times. Shota decided that Zume was going to use common knowledge for most of his blocks and counters. And this was fast enough to give Zume little time to move away - leaving him with only a few common sense moves. One of them being that he catches Shota's leg and forces him to the ground, in which case Shota would turn his body around to deliver a roundhouse kick straight to the face of this old-timer.

Irritability, no one liked being underestimated, and it seemed that those confident in their abilities, but still held by the sway of youth, were foolish enough to let that direct their actions. Shota kicked at his ribs, but it was not his eyes which noted the movement, it was his sensory capabilities. His grasp of reiryoku and reiatsu allowed him to visualize someone's entire body by sensing the flow of reiryoku inside it. So as Shota struck out, Zume spun so his back was parallel to the leg and caught it, grasping Shota's knee with his hand, grip locking onto it with a grip forged from years of practice with a zanpakuto. He displayed the same smile as he gazed at Shota, but he was not foolish enough to remain in this position, in fact he was only in it for 1/4th of a second before Shota would feel him push at his leg and then for it to fly back, likely sending him wildly off-balance. If this were to be a success, Zume would vanish, reappearing where Shota's leg moved upon the attack, catching it again and reversing its trajectory completely.

If both movements were successful, Shota would likely find himself upon the ground. Regardless, the shinigami's leg would receive blunt trauma and internal damage as if some kind of pulse had traveled through it. If both maneuvers were successful he'd find that two such attacks would have hit him, causing him twice the damage. He would remain with one and a half meters if Shota fell, but if he did not, the captain would retreat back to two. His words if his entire maneuver met with success would be these, "You vastly underestimate me, Shota, and thus overestimate yourself."

"Calm down," Shota thought to himself moments before his leg was caught, just as he predicted. What he didn't predict, though, was Zume pushing his leg back, fast enough not to give Shota a chance to proceed with his maneuver. It was a simple, but an effective move. It made Shota spin, perhaps with the intention of making him lose his balance. "No way that's going to put me off," He had little time to think, but he did notice that Zume vanished. It was his instinct that told him Zume would appear behind him, trying to catch his leg. He didn't want to think further than that, really, as the thought of what would become of his leg wasn't a nice one.

At that point, his head was hurting - only a bit, though. He really hated multitasking.

There was only one way to stop Zume's intentions - but it was going to hurt. Biting on his lower lip, Shota forcefully brought his leg down to the ground, a move that made his stance balanced again and made him escape Zume's grip. It was also a move that brought pain to his calf; as it wasn't natural, nor easy, to bring his leg down at that speed. Fortunately, the adrenaline already kicked in and he was able to move despite the cramp - right into his next offensive move. He repeated the same move with his left leg, which was perfectly positioned for that full-force kick, but changed the trajectory mere moments before it collided with Zume's hands. He was lucky enough to have studied Muay Thai along other martial arts, so he was able to quickly adapt from one stance to the other. As well as change his offensive style in the middle of a move.

Nice explanation, Shota remarked as he bent his leg back, sharpening the knee - it gave him just enough room to move past the defense and launch a knee strike straight to Zume's chin. It was an unorthodox combination, but one that could very well work.

Shota adapted, well done, as Zume reappeared he smiled and rather than catch the oncoming leg, he ducked beneath it. He noticed the change in trajectory, but by then it didn't matter. He let it continue to swing and instead swept his Shota's other leg from beneath him with a swift kick. However behind the kick was far more power than there should have been. The pain would ripple up his leg, the same leg Zume had struck before, and make the cramp even worse. The flow of his reiryoku is blocked there, perfect, He did not stay long, In fact he then dashed behind Shota as he likely lost his balance. There was little for the poor boy, he had no idea what exactly he was dealing with, after all no one had ever seen Zume display any skill in Hakuda, and in truth he still wasn't.

Yet the method behind the power of his strikes and the skill of his movements was not in the essence of hakuda, not really. Still, no one was to know that just yet, otherwise they might gain an advantage that he could not allow at the moment. Perhaps later though.

Another missed chance, yet it seemed that every missed chance made Shota pay more and more. This time, he was swept up by a might force, as Zume ducked underneath his strike. It was a smart move, and it was even smarter dashing aways, as Shota would most likely fall on Zume otherwise. This way, he fell down to the earth, suspending himself only with his right hand from not touching the ground completely. Whether that counted for Zume or not didn't matter at this point. He pushed himself off the ground, doing one push-up strong enough to get himself back on his feet. It was not the greatest of starts for Shota, as he had to bite through even more pain in his right calf.

"Whose side are you on?" Shota muttered out as he brought his hands up.

He was better off using hands anyways, so at least he had that going for him.

"Yeah, exactly." His voice was muffled by his arms as he took the headband off, throwing it to the side. "Alright, round two," he addressed Zume, launching a fist in the direction of his face. However, he vanished and reappeared behind Zume, before his fist had a chance of colliding with him. He had to position his body so his leg wouldn't be exposed, at least not for a few moments. But he also had to position himself in a way that he would be capable of dishing out enough damage. He knew a handful of submission moves though, so if the straightforward kicking and punching wasn't going to work - he would have to turn to other methods.

He brought his hand up, moving it forward in order to clutch Zume's neck. His knee went forward, focusing on Zume's legs, in order to bring him down to his knees. Should he move to the side, Shota would have enough time to react to his counterattacks. Should he duck down, his knee would hit Zume in the ribs. And should he stay put, well - that bit was self-explanatory. There was still a lot of fight left in the SHOwstopper.

A frontal assault, unlikely. The movement didn't even look Shota had put his all behind it, which wasn't something he'd known the boy for: restraint. He smirked and took a half-step forwards. Shota was forced to move closer to grab and as he did, Zume waited for the second before his fingers clamped down. He felt them graze the hairs on his skin, then he ducked, and slammed his foot backwards into Shota's stomach. As he did the actual force of the powerful blow was seemingly multiplied, as if a shockwave was released upon contact, directly into the shinigami's body. Zume followed this motion, pressing a single hand onto the ground and then his body whirling until he was facing Shota and back on his feet again. "Your technique is top notch, but your situational awareness is lacking," he said as if simply making an observation. His expression was serious, but it looked more like he was considering Shota a student, and him a teacher.

Internally Zume was however, quite amused. The whole situation was playing out quite well, but he hadn't won yet. He'd need to get a total of 20 points first. Making Shota fall twice would be the best way to do this, but he'd do what he could rather than blindly hope for the most optimal situation.

As the foot slammed into Shota, he stumbled back - once again away from Zume. The Captain managed to create separation yet again. And he was even boasting about it. Well, he did give him a compliment, that was something at least. But the thing that bothered him was that the hit was much more powerful than it should have been. Zume was a Captain, but he wasn't that strong - not psychically - he shouldn't be that strong to land hits of that magnitude. There was something off about it.

Of course - he was not using any powerful moves, all he did most of the time was block, counter and create separation. That alone should not have made such an impact on Shota's body. Yet, Zume seemed to be on top - something that also shouldn't have happened. There was certainly something about his moves that did the trick. Was it in the technique? Did he make the remark about situational awareness on purpose? Or to throw Shota off track? He had many questions and Zume's expression was giving out no answer. "What is it so special about your technique?" Shota asked, as he moved back into the stance. He would have to be much more careful from now on, it wasn't about searching an opening - or creating one, for that matter. It was about searching an answer, because that in itself would give him enough of an opening.

Situational awareness, Shota repeated in himself. Eyes open, ears open. Check your surroundings, inspect each stance. Thank you for reminding me, Captain, Maybe that would work. Taking a step forward, Shota positioned his left foot in front of him, shifting the weight on it - making it even easier for his right foot. This stance would allow him to move quickly, whilst keeping both his balance and his right foot in check. It was a standard Jeet Kune Do stance. But, more importantly, it would allow Shota to be more fluid and improvise easier than before, which seemed to be the key to winning this thing. Out of all the styles he picked up on in the real world, he was most skilled with this - and that would give Shota the biggest chance of figuring out Zume's weakness. Which he had to have - everyone has a weakness.

There was some distance between the two of them and it gave enough time for Shota to regroup. Next point was going to be his. He pointed his left fist towards Zume, motioning for him to move first. If only he could get him to the ground, he would have this thing in the bag.

Damage to his right leg is likely sufficient now, several more strikes to that and it won't be able to support weight, he surmised as the boy took a stance, his left foot taking up the majority of his weight. Zume took a few steps towards Shota, putting the distance at two meters again. "Technique?" Zume Smiled, a certain dark amusement in his eyes. It was apparent that he found it quite enjoyable that only he knew how he was pulling this off at all. He was sure Shota was quite confused at how someone with no Hakuda talent whatsoever was taking on a combatant such as himself. "Now, it wouldn't be any fun if I told you would it?" Taking in a deep breath, Zume increased his reiatsu output somewhat, it was time to start wearing Shota down.

Then, for the first time, Zume took two running steps towards Shota, the energy building up, before he readied his feet for a slide. His foot found its traction, he spun, as if into a kick, and vanished. Shota would almost immediately feel Zume's presence behind him, delivering an attack towards the same right leg.

"I didn't know that kind of fun gets you off," Shota retorted as he felt Zume increase his reiatsu output. That could only mean he was finally getting serious. If so - he would have finally come into Shota's territory. It seemed that he wasn't giving the roots of Shota's technique much attention, but one could never know with Zume. Especially since every Hakuda user and their grandmothers knew that defense was Shota's weak point. This stance, however, allowed him to use that to his advantage - although it seemed Zume was enjoying himself too much to give that some thought. Why would he? Since Shota wasn't able to score a single point so far, Zume had no need to consider him a worthy opponent. But Shota was wary of Zume - and for a good reason. For all Shota knew, he would turn on the offensive and probably start attacking his right leg more and more, until he wore it out completely.

Now - look who is now underestimating his adversary, Shota thought as Zume spun before vanishing. The movement didn't make Shota flinch, as he was familiar with it. Simple misdirection. Of course, one would think that was enough to put Shota off guard, and quite frankly - it was. But the more time he spent in a fight, that much more did his body got accustomed to his opponent. And that was all he needed, to learn and to adapt.

If Zume was just a split second faster, he would have surely hit Shota again, but it seemed that Shota was able to keep up with his speed - he vanished just a moment before Zume managed to inflict more damage to his right leg. Shota knew that he had only have a moment before Zume regained complete balance. This time he was the one to appear behind, his speed on par with Zume's; and his body in the same balanced stance as before. This allowed him to plant his right foot near his left and launch a progressive kick with his left leg. It was both fast and powerful - and coming from up close. Even if Zume was able to counter it somehow, Shota kept his hands in the protective stance, so he would be able to counter whatever counter the Captain came up with.

It had merely been Zume's presence that Shota had felt, so as he appeared to attack he was struck square in the side by the actual Zume, who had merely used his near godly manipulation of reiryoku and reiatsu to make it feel as if he had moved behind Shota. The kick was to Shota's right hip and abdomen, worsening the damage and pain from the cramp and likely causing it to spread, and then it happened.

Rather than a simple pulsation of pain and force, an actual shockwave erupted into, and from, Zume's foot likely sending Shota flying into the ground much faster than what he had thought. If this occurred Zume would shunpo again, his presence appearing near Shota and kicking at his head as well as another at his side. Neither existed, instead Zume would appear above Shota's back and slam his foot down onto the shinigami's spine. The attack hurt, and then the pulse hit, a blast being sent directly into the boy's body through the spine so he'd feel the pain throughout his entire form. After this, presuming Shota had gotten to this point and not properly responded, Zume would shunpo a mere 2 meters away and wait. If this was to occur his expression was no longer a smirk, but rather one of dead seriousness. The smallest amount of misdirection can be the undoing of your adversary, Observation stated within Zume's deepest mind. Meanwhile Amusement smirked, but only within so as not to make it seem as if Zume were happy with the damage he was delivering. This was all going very well, this was for sure.

Zume was full of tricks, he had a bag infinitely full, if Shota was to judge from his own perspective. It seemed as if whatever Shota was doing, Zume knew exactly how to counter, but even that couldn't last forever. Shota had a plan. He had a goddamn plan. "And it better work, he thought to himself as his kick went straight through and his right side of the abdomen erupted in pain.

That in itself would have been bad enough, but a tremendous force sent him flying to the floor, although he managed to shift enough to hit the hard ground back first. This time, Zume appeared next to Shota, sending a kick towards his head, one which Shota tried to block, but it seemed as if it was another reiatsu manipulation. Then another one appeared, but this time accompanied by a smirk on Shota's face. He had gotten a hang of another trick. Seeing through the misdirection, Shota grabbed the foot that was about to slam down on his abdomen, forcing his hands around it in an ankle lock.

He had a goddamn plan.

And if it meant getting hit to pull it through, then so be it. An ankle lock was a simple submission maneuver and it usually meant that the holder would get up to his feet in order to fully apply it. If Zume knew anything about it, that would be the information. Instead, Shota moved his left hand around Zume's calf, locking the hand with his right and pulling the entire leg towards Zume's abdomen. It was impossible for Zume to shunpo away, as long as Shota held a firm grip on him. And instead of letting up, he was so pissed that he aimed at breaking Zume's leg. It was a modified Kimura lock, one that he knew how to execute perfectly.

Zume's hands were not long enough to hit him and even if he started frantically waving his other leg around to hit Shota, his hands were locked in tight and he wouldn't let go. Instead, he would apply even more pressure by shifting his entire body weight over Zume's contorted leg.

Nobody was going to mess with Shota's chances of recording an album.

With his heel behind him and near his waist, Zume at first smiled down at Shota, even as the pressure increased. His internal gears shifted, and then his hazel eyes began altering their color slightly. They became a darker brown, with flecks of gold and piercing blue...and his smile vanished. An almost dead look very briefly came into his eyes, and then was lifted as annoyance was displayed. "Troublesome, I'll have to look out for locks in the future. The Kimura then? Interesting choice," His cold analytical eyes gazed down into Shota's. This look was one the lieutenant had never seen, for it was reserved for those who Zume fought to kill, and for those who drove him to true annoyance. "However..." Zume pulled, taking in a deep breath and channeling reiryoku through both his legs. His knee lifted half an inch, then a whole inch, and then an inch and a half from Shota's abdomen, and then his smile returned, "...your organs are in far more trouble than my leg," all his weight, focused into that knee, slammed into Shota's gut, punching his diaphragm with the sharp point of his knee, and moving innards painfully around before the shockwave rippled through the same area, amplifying the pain. However this time the effect did not stop, it reverberated through Shota continuously, apparently all that had been necessary was a small amount of momentum to initiate the effect. It was a rolling wave of reverberating dissonance that would likely make Shota feel like he needed to wretch.

The ploy was meant to force Shota to loosen his hold on Zume's leg due to the air being knocked out of him, the sheer pain of the reverberating blow, and then.... Zume leaned down, angling his body so his left arm was in reach, and then slammed his fist into Shota's shoulder, causing another wave of pain to roll through the shinigami. It would likely cause a cramp in Shota's arm, just as the captain's first strike had. His cold gaze cut and burned through Shota, as if it could see into his childish mind and hit every weak point.

If Shota's hold weakened from the cramp in his arm and the intense pain in his abdomen region, Zume would kick off the ground and into the air, reappearing two meters away where he would exhale sharply and then breath in deeply, taking in another breath. He knew how to handle hold's now, avoid them completely or move in such a way so as to weaken the hold before it was allowed to fully lock into place. His eyes narrowed and his annoyance earned, the shinigami's reiatsu rose again, now hitting lieutenant level. Those in the stands would feel it only vaguely for Zume was forcing it to remain int he condensed location of the tournament's platform, where he and his adversary, Shota, now fought. He was getting more serious, and less forgiving...and that was dangerous for Shota. Very dangerous.

As Zume managed to counter his hold, all Shota was able to think about was how Zume wasn't showing any pain. He held a great poker face, although Shota was sure that he was inflicting pain. He didn't pay his adversary's words any heed as he got kneed in the diaphragm. A fair amount of saliva escaped his mouth as he gasped for air - landing directy on Zume's face. Ironically, all that was he able to think about was whether that would count as a point or not.

Probably not.

As nausea occupied his whole being, he put even more pressure on Zume's leg, although it was sheer luck, as he simply leaned on it with more weight as a pathetic way of trying to rid himself of sickness. He was inches away from hurling all over Zume, but at least he inflicted more damage to his leg. He'd surely have trouble standing on it for a while.

But then it hit him - the strongest the reiatsu output was, the stronger the shocks got. And Shota here wasn't even using his reiatsu in ways that he could. He thought that was against the rules - then again, maybe the officials were biased towards Captains. "Screw that," he barely muttered out, dripping more saliva (and possibly some of his breakfast) on Zume.

As Shota anticipated another strike incoming, he instinctively channeled his Reiatsu - but not to stop the strike, as he knew the greater Reiatsu would simply cancel his. Instead he channeled it towards the parts of his body that still held the grip on Zume, pushing with all his might before getting hit again and letting go of the hold. He was back on square one, as Zume vanished away from him - but at least he managed to inflict some damage to the leg. Good damage. It was worth it - and he was starting to get the hang of Zume's best trick.

As he pierced Zume's gaze; collecting his composure (and breath) at the same time. "I don't know why the officials aren't saying anything, you using Reiatsu to win - but if that's how you want to play, let's play. I don't care about the rules anymore." Shota spoke, as loudly and clearly as he could. He let out his Reiatsu, enough to match Zume's current level and then amplified it a bit more. Two neon green lights enveloping his fists. Of course Zume was superior in that area, but that sort of Captain-esque advantage wasn't fair play.

Vanishing from sight, Shota appeared in front of Zume, punching his fists together - a move that released dust-like Reiatsu directly at Zume's face. A mere second after, he jumped up - emitting his Reiatsu so that it would seem he was doing a front flip and then a progressive kick to the ribs. Zume had the ability to visualize entire body movement by sensing Reiatsu, something that Shota picked up on. And thus, Shota gave him something to visualize. When in reality, after manipulating his Reiatsu, Shota brought his Reiatsu all the way down - completely shutting it out, and remained in front of Zume, doing a swift leg sweep that would bring Zume down to the ground.

He was faster than before, despite being worn out. His Reiatsu shed some fresh strength into him. And the leg sweep was perfect, considering the state Zume's leg was in. Not to mention that it was so unorthodox and ridiculous that Zume had no chance of predicting it, no matter how intelligent he was.

If he succeeded in taking him down, he would pump up his Reiatsu yet again, stomping down towards his neck, utilizing the same method Zume used when he manipulated Shota in thinking the fake Zumes were real. Although, he would change it up a bit. Acting like a copycat would mean the first two strikes were fake, but he would stomp down full force with his first attack.

All the while, though, he kept his senses sharp and arms in a defensive pose. Should Zume try anything, Shota would be able to move away or block if necessary.

Twitching as Shota spit in his face...twice, Zume growled a bit till finally he managed to escape Shota's hold, though not without a measure of damage to his leg muscles. He could feel the pain, but he had no intention of letting it hinder him. He could simply heal it later. As such, he sent reiryoku to that portion of his body and let it redistribute, nullifying the pain for a moment by overriding the receptors for such. The damage was there, and he was aware of it, but it would not stop him from taking action, though those actions would likely damage his muscles further.

Then Shota did something exceptionally foolish, he tried to beat a master at his own game.

Trying to fool Zume with his reiatsu screen, the captain closed his eyes and visualized the reiryoku again. Noted the potency in front of him and smiled, his expression appearing mildly surprised. He moved to defend against the attack above him, fooling Shota into doing his leg sweep. He again allowed the attack to hit, causing his legs to look as if they buckle. However, he fell forwards towards Shota, rather than back, due to the distrubution of his weight, and thus, his knee touched the ground, intentionally, stopping his fall as Zume rammed his head into Shota's injured abdomen, then punched both his legs, even larger shockwaves releasing to buckle both legs before Zume used his other leg to push off and charge Shota, wrapping his arms around his waist and barrelling him into the ground before pushing off and away from him and shunpoing out of reach. If Shota tried to touch him, he would be impeded.

If this worked, Shota would have taken 18 hits. If his back hit the ground, he'd have taken 28, and if the grab around his waist counted, he'd have received 29. Making him lose by a rather wide margin.

If Shota interrupted his headbutt, Zume would shunpo away. If he interrupted the punches to either leg he would swivel around to his side to attack, or retreat as needed. The grab was however unavoidable if the aforementioned three moves were successful, and thus there was no need for Zume to worry on that front.

Shota smirked as Zume pretended to fall for his trick. He was a genius indeed, and even though his body language was near perfect, Shota was an actor himself. There was no way Shota would be able to beat Zume at his game - but it seemed as if Zume was forgetting that they were still in Shota's playground. The entire scheme was actually targeting another part of Zume's body, instead of his legs. When it came down to body language, Shota was confident he was the superior one. As Zume crumbled towards Shota, instead away from him - Shota stepped slightly to the side, grabbing a hold of his neck between his abdomen and left arm; right into a modified sleeper hold. Even if he planned on moving away should his plan fail, Shota held such a firm grip on his neck that he was unable to move away. Not while the two were at the same level of Hoho.

Immediately upon catching his neck, Shota grabbed Zume's left hand, trapping it from further attacks. His right hand was out of reach for a punch. The pressure on his neck was building, as Shota kicked his right knee with his left foot. The action made both of them fall down, with Zume's head hitting full force the hard ground - a DDT maneuver. And the land would give him the opportunity to shunpo away to a safe distance.

If his entire sequence went through, Shota would have 14 points and would be a step closer to winning. His both hands were imobillized and if Zume tried landing a kick with either of his legs, Shota would simply move faster due to the position advantage and reverse the hold so that he would be out of reach for Zume's legs. DDT, however, would happen in a matter of moments if Zume happens not to find a way out of his predicament.

Shota moved, Zume detected it, and bailed. The arm and knee began their movement, but Zume's head reversed its direction entirely, slipping from Shota's grasp. This revealed that Zume could use his pulses for more than just attacking, which was unfortunate, but he could only do so much when his skills in an area were effectively non-existent. Thus Shota's hold never graced Zume's neck, instead, Zume dashed back, making sure to use excessive amounts of steps so that he could not be caught entirely airborne. When he got to three meters, he stopped and took measure of the situation once more. Well, even with this new style I can only cover my lack of muscle memory so much, he sighed, smiling almost ruefully at Shota, who had seen through his ploy, something very few could do.

Still, Shota could only see through one which was badly constructed to begin with. He had made a mistake, so he supposed that was one mark in Nasuri's favor--though she hated being right. "You have done well withstanding the pain of those blows, and even better to have hit me as many times as you have," the captain's smile had returned, for his irritation had melted away after narrowly escaping that hold. While he had researched some holds, most of his studies had been into various types of martial arts and the characteristics of their movements and forms as well as more rudimentary, or basic, moves.

This knowledge had served him well, but he wasn't sure how much longer he'd last at this rate. Perhaps it was time to take a slightly different approach. Taking in a deep breath, Zume mimicked Shota's earlier stance, but in reverse. Right foot forwards, weight on his undamaged left leg which was behind. He altered it slightly, turning sideways somewhat to make himself a smaller target, and then held his right arm out in a relaxed position, left arm in front of his stomach. His reiatsu rose and then plummeted, all but vanishing completely. If one closed their eyes, it would be like he wasn't there at all.

However, for the few who had similar levels of control, such as Goken and Majime, they would note a distinct build up under the surface. One that, in the hands of an inexperienced individual, could have killed them. Luckily, Zume was not inexperienced in the least. "I hope you have taken no offense, Shota. I respect your skills, I have since before we started." There was honesty in his eyes and in his voice. He wasn't lying. It was true, Shota was skilled in this area, though the lieutenant would have surely died had he attempted to face Zume in a fight unrestrained, as would essentially any lieutenant against a captain.

As such he would honor Shota with the last few trump cards he had, if the boy could coax them out.

Out of all the troublesome opponents Shota had faced and could have faced in the tournament - he had to end up with Zume. Well, at first, he considered that a gift from lady luck. But now it seemed more as if lady luck decided to screw him over and play a little joke. Shota sighed out as Zume managed to escape the hold, possibly with the use of the same pulsating trick he used before. If that was correct, Shota would have a lot of trouble landing a single hit. But he was still standing, so he had that going for him. Albeit in a worse state than the Captain. Or at least, that's how it seemed - unfortunately, Shota did not have good enough control of Reiatsu to help bite through his wounds. He relied solely on adrenaline and that in itself wouldn't last long - not if he keeps getting hit and losing momentum.

His mind was moments from tossing his hands in the air and walking out of the arena - proclaiming it was not worth the trouble and to "screw this". His youthful pride, however, was not keen on that idea and thus Shota was going to end up beaten up even more probably. An idea that neither Shota's heart, nor face, was not keen on. He was able to catch his breath as he watched Zume take up a completely different stance. There was really no end to his tricks. "Is it going to be a condensed technique?" Shota considered as he felt Zume's Reiatsu soaring, before quickly fading out. A condensed blast was a feared technique in its own right and if he decided to combine it with one of his pulsating moves - Shota would be taken down in a single move, and probably seriously hurt while he was at it.

"Think, Shota managed to bring a smile on his face as he went over everything he learned about Zume so far. If he loses - no one else would be able to beat Zume either. That was some kind of a pathetic excuse for even considering losing. "Like I'll settle for that," his heart cried out. Reiatsu illusions, enhanced strikes that resulted in a bad time for one receiving them, excellent mobility, yet average speed - one that Shota would maybe even have the chance to surpass, should he push himself a bit more. Basic knowledge of various martial arts, basic principles, but lacking in the area of holds. However, he was agile enough to escape his holds, so Shota was better off trying out another strategy, instead of hoping Zume would make a mistake.

Because he wouldn't.

But, Shota was able to move on instinct - pure muscle memory, whilst Zume seemed to be lacking that. Although his mind was more than enough to compensate for it, it was just a matter of time until Shota broke through. If he was able to stand that long, that is. "You have my respect too, Captain. I'll be honest - I thought you were going to be a piece of cake, when I saw you were my opponent. For that, you have my sincere apologies. Still..."

Still - Shota took extra care to learn how to avoid and counter the most lethal of martial arts techniques. It was only logical, even if he didn't perfect avoiding basic maneuvers - he wasn't going to die by getting hit by them. Lethal strikes, on the other hand, were ones that he wasn't fond of getting hit by - thus he learned well how to handle them. There was no question that he was able to avoid, in theory - the real question was would his body hold out that kind of strain?

Karate, Taekwondo, Kickboxing, Judo - those were all popular martial arts that Zume had probably looked into. Capoeira - effective and lethal, but Shota wasn't as skilled in it. And now was not the time to try out things. He had to be lethal, fast and unorthodox enough for his moves to break through Zume's analytic defense. And to top it all off, he had to evade every move possible - because just one well placed condensed shot could finish him. There was only one thing that could save the day here. And he had to stay calm, focused and not attack first.

He was faster than Zume. His muscle memory was still in place. And he had an idea. He made a half-step with his left leg, bringing both of his hands up to his chin. His stance was in place - and his adversary was on the move.

A kickboxing, or at least boxing, stance was taken by Shota. The boy had acknowledged him, which was a good sign in regards to the new technique he was testing. If he was able to do this much, it might be enough. Part of him wanted to show kindness and give up, allowing Shota to win and progress, but the rest of him was determined to test out this style against at least one more opponent. Then again, now they'd be expecting it in some facet, though in truth it was hard to notice unless you could see what exactly was causing it.

He was weighing things. If he allowed Shota his win, the boy might feel indebted to him, and while the lieutenant was not particularly intelligent, though certainly not a fool, he was still a lieutenant. This could make him useful. On the other hand if he won he could progress and attempt to utilize these techniques again on someone with a completely different style, thus allowing him to further prove its usefulness. Perhaps he could try this again in next year's competition, or perhaps he could set up some way to test it besides this. "Hmmm..." Zume's smooth voice said aloud as he watched Shota's movement. He was still roughly 2 meters away though, not much trouble. The pressure was building, that was for sure, and soon it'd become uncomfortable to withhold. "Let's finish this, shall we?" Zume stated with a small smile, a rather friendly one, as he too took a small step forwards, making sure to track Shota's every movement with mind and eyes both.

"You know," Shota spoke, as he carefully stepped forward. He was tracking every movement Zume made and knew that the Captain was doing the same to him. "This technique you're using - mind teaching it to me?" It wasn't a statement meant for mockery or sarcasm; Shota was genuinely interested in learning such a powerful hand-to-hand technique. If he was the one that knew how to fully utilize it, along with his Shikai abilities, he would become a true force to be reckoned with.

The two of them were approximately two meters apart, but the tension was unbelievable. Shota had the feeling everything would be decided with the next move - and thus the last of his adrenaline kicked in, drowning out the sounds of the crowd, allowing Shota to focus solely on his adversary. If the battle lasted any longer, his adrenaline in itself wouldn't be able to push back the pain and he would surely lose. And Zume - even if he was tired, he wasn't showing it, so Shota had no real reason to believe that he would be able to outlast him in a simple stamina game. If anything, Shota was more likely to slip up and allow Zume to take him down. He was a mental glacier, that man.

The only reply to Zume's question came in form of a short nod. At that point, the two were at a meter distance from each other and when Shota made his move, it was already too late for either of them to shunpo away. The fight was going to end now - and both of them probably realized it by now. Not a second passed before Shota made a low slide forward with his upper body - it was a standard kickboxing pattern, often followed by a knee strike. Instead, Shota faked a leg kick to the neck - releasing only a bit of Reiatsu so his fake would seem more dangerous, without him having to lift his leg up and thus losing balance. That sort of kick was known to knock even the toughest of opponents off balance. His real strike, however, came in form of a fast, forward jab aimed at Zume's chin with his left hand. The strike, although powerful, left a slight opening in Shota's abdomen area.

However, his stance was not meant to utilize kickboxing, but Krav Maga. A self-defense, reaction discipline that allowed no wasted movements and gave out no real opening. That fake opening was small enough not to give out an impression of a fake one - at least not to someone who was not experienced in hand to hand combat - but at the same time, big enough to be spotted by an analytic fighter. Should Zume utilize the opening, Shota's right hand was already prepared to catch the strike and pull Zume's body close enough to allow Shota's left hand to chop down full force on Zume's neck, knocking him out.

However, there was a chance of Zume's strike emitting a pulse before impact itself, which is why Shota channeled his Reiatsu (to the best of his abilities) throughout his whole body, not to stop it per se, but to stop his body from flying away - in case that chance became reality. That way, he would have enough time to still hit with his last strike, before the pain completely engulfed him. If that was the case, it would come down to who would fall down first. And Shota hoped he would be able to stand at least a few seconds longer, due to the position advantage and sheer will-power.

The lieutenant asked him a rather interesting question, he asked if he'd teach him this new technique of his. At this the 12th division's captain smiled and responded, "Perhaps we can arrange a meeting in a day or two. I'd like to have you see how it actually works before attempting to learn it". He then continued to follow Shota's example, almost mimicking his movements, but in a slightly warped mirror image. As such, when the shinigami kicked, Zume was prepared for it. He did not initially duck, instead his right hand moved to the left, and he allowed a portion of the stored power to be released, slowing the attack where he then caught it, he was not going to let Shota win.

Then came the second attack, but it too was predictable. It even created an opening in the gut, but Zume had already adapted. Any opening Shota created was likely manufactured. He had seen through his movement's once, but he wouldn't be able to do so twice. The punch was nearly there, but Zume raised his arm somewhat, letting his hand remain in its position, holding Shota's leg. This moved it into the trajectory of Shota's punch, allowing him to hit it, or so it would seem. This time there was nothing to set the movement apart from a legitimate one, for Shota's fist almost made contact, but then it simply didn't.

Zume had utilized the principals of shunpo as he bent his legs, ducking underneath the trajectory of both sides, while simultaneously leaning on his back leg. He would push off, and backwards, appearing to retreat and actually becoming slightly airborne when he did so.

Then Zume untapped his reiryoku, aimed the surfaces of his feet backwards at an angle to the ground, and blasted forwards. A moment before this he solidified the reishi in the air to step upon, as all shinigami could, so that he would shunpo and then pulse in roughly the same moment. The entire movement thus far had barely taken a single second so when Zume appeared past the point of being blocked for Shota with his right hand arm in an L shape to his right side, his forearm sliding against Shota's still extended attack it would come as a surprise. However, the true surprise came next as Zume's palm slammed into the space between Shota's lungs, and just below his heart. "Reiatsuhei," he whispered and then the rest of the pent up tension erupted from his hand, slamming into Shota's body, coursing through the entirety of its form, and then applying enough force to push Zume two meters away, where he slid to a stop, expression serious.

The position of Zume's legs somewhat impeded Shota's still grounded leg from doing anything. Shota's other leg had no time to be drawn back and execute another kick, and his one free arm was not in the proper position to hit Zume,who was crouched down, but also not touching the ground at all as he struck. Zume's right arm also kept Shota's extended arm from bending around and making it impossible for him to retreat as he intended to. If Shota could not counter the first set of movements, then the rest would follow too swiftly for him to deal with.

Even if he forced his muscles down like he had before with his leg, then he would do himself enough damage that he'd be unable to contend with Zume's next assault anyways. It was rather futile at this point, enough so that Zume hoped it ended there, because if it did not, Zume would likely have to decrease the force of his pulses so as not to cause permanent internal damage...for that was too much for a tournament such as this, he thought.

Shota's plan seemed to be thrown out of the window yet again - but this time, somehow, it worked for him. Perhaps lady luck favored him after all. Instead of catching his "leg", Zume's hand passed through the Reiatsu screen, thus not catching Shota's leg - which remained on the ground the entire time. It threw Zume off-balance, his right arm in itself blocking his left arm and leg. A truly uncomfortable position. But even better - Zume's neck was right in front of Shota. While Zume blocked Shota's Reiatsu mirror, Shota positioned his left leg in between Zume's, locking his ankle with Zume's right ankle, preventing him from both using Shunpo and ducking his body further down to move his neck away from Shota.

By changing the trajectory of his fist and turning his jab into a chop - Shota brought his already near point blank hand, down on Zume's neck, not holding back a single ounce of his power. This is where their speed came into play, Shota was both faster and had position advantage. Zume was prevented to strike, by his own off-balanced body, and his hurt leg was locked in, not allowing him to Shunpo away.

If Zume felt suicidal and tried to attack by sending pulse to pass through his own and at Shota, the speed was still on Shota's side and his strike would connect first. It was near impossible to shift his neck around from this position, before first balancing the body out. And by the time Zume balanced his body out, he would already be done and out.

Even if Zume tried bending his body backwards, limbo-esque way, Shota' s chop would still land somewhere on Zume's head. And the faster one tried to pull his body down into a limbo hell, the more it would be unpleasant and, in this case, hurt Zume's already hurt leg.

There was only so much that someone who was not a Hakuda expert could do at this point. Even if not all trick were out of the bag - Shota neutralized all movement for longer than enough to land a single strike. And considering his offensive power, that one was going to be more than enough. Was this the mistake Shota was waiting on? It felt too good to be true.

But his strike was less than a second away from connecting - it was what it was. A game over.

Due to his stance, Zume had only had to move his arm several inches when catching the reiryoku released by Shota in the form of a false kick. He smiled and grasped it, mixing it with his own and then using it to form a pulse without releasing any of the pent up energy in his own body. This sent his elbow slamming right into Shota's wrist. However, Zume did not move his legs, allowing the shinigami to lock his by almost coiling his own around the older shinigami's. However,t he manuever would not stop him from moving forwards, only back, and as such, Zume decided to do something unorthodox, Bend his leg while leaning forwards, ducking down and grabbing Shota by the waist, something he could not dodge due to his own body position, nor could the lieutenant use his knee on Zume's abdomen for he'd lose his own balance while not winning the battle. As such, Zume used this new position and tapped Shota's entangled leg with the heel of the foot that he was locking in place. A shockwave happened, sending Shota's leg off balance and allowing Zume to lightly shove him forwards and away, creating separation. He smiled at him and held up an arm, "Your win, I have what I came for. However, you owe me a favor," Zume motioned towards the ref to call it Shota's win.

He then turned to walk off the mat, but before he did he came in close to Shota and lightly made contact with him, administering a healing kido directly inside the shinigami's body. There was no way anyone else could've seen it, and Shota would've only felt a slight change in his insides, as if bruises were healing on organs. "Wouldn't want you to die of organ trauma in the middle of your next match, would we?" He whispered, before walking off, smiling somewhat and bowing his head to the crowd, which seemed just a bit disappointed. The rest of which were cheering for Shota, happy that they'd get to see him fight in the next round. The healing kido used a fair amount of the pent up energy, the rest of which Zume simply released in a controlled manner as he walked away. If it was released all at once it might cause damage, but this way no one would even know exactly what he'd been doing. In fact, Shota still wouldn't even know till he told him later on...if he did.

Shota closed his eyes as Zume managed to create separation, anticipating a crushing blow. The one, however, never came. "My win?" Shota muttered out as he opened his eyes, clearly seeing Zume forfeit. "Hey!" He yelled out after Zume, a few moments after the Captain whispered to him and proceeded to depart. What are you doing, you hot-headed punk?

"What does it look like? We're not finished, not like this," Oh, so you want to "fight", and get beat up to a bloody pulp? You know what - go right ahead, but I'm not going through with that. Not a chance. "But I can't fight without a narrator!" Exactly.

Sensing common knowledge filling his mind, Shota bowed down to respectfully thank the Captain for the fight. "Hopefully, you'll get to teach me that. And as for that favor," Shota grinned, while grabbing his abdomen area, "I know a few good bars in Tokyo." Only then did the fact that he won reached his mind. Only when his adrenaline stopped coursing through his body and he felt the pain. Well, at least he heard the crowd chanting his name. He had that going for him.

Slipping back into his usual self, he shot out a few hearts to the ladies, thumbs up to the gentleman - he won!

He glanced towards Zume one last time before returning to appease the crowd. If the fight lasted any longer, Zume would have been the one victorious, that much was obvious to Shota. He released some of his Reiatsu as he sent thumbs up to Zume, this way the Captain would be able to see it, even whilst walking away.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Empath
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Empath

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The sun and the gentle breeze made the dark shadows of the leafs above dance lazily across Akira’s fair skin, he was resting his back against one of the many arms of the tall tree he had claimed as his own personal ‘procrastinating castle’ - of which he, of course, was the captain of. His gaze shifted focus from the lazy, yet enthralling dance of the green leaves to the blue canvas that bled through the spaces between the dancers. For some reason he had always had a fascination with a clear blue sky - there was something innocent, yet mystical and alarming about a clear blue sky that had captured his attention from an early stage. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when the blue sky above him, no matter what dimension he had been in, that hadn’t filled him with a sense of vastness and wonder, yet at the same time he couldn’t deny that he also felt a sting of sadness as well - a feeling that he had never been able to convey to others, and had therefore given up trying a long time ago.

“huh,” he grunted suddenly in mid-thought, “perhaps that is why I have never liked Huecho Mundo…?”

This possible self-realization didn’t linger for long however - in fact in Akira’s mind barely anything did - because his focus shifted to a single lonely little cloud that had dared drift into his perfect picture of dancing greens and the ocean of blue. It didn’t seem like it cared one bit that it had drifted into Akira’s perfect picture, instead it seemed to carelessly drift wherever the wind took it - something that birthed a sense of envy within Akira.

“What a life,” he mumbled lazily to himself, “if only I could live like that, not having to do anything, must be so nice…”

He lazily lifted the cup he had held in his hand since he had placed himself in the tree, the warm tea poured into his mouth, it’s refreshing taste clearing his throat, clearing the path of a heavy sigh to make make its escape through his lips. It was actually quite a nice life he had, if he had to be honest with himself: he had a high ranking job, he didn’t have a girl to drag him down with her endless blabbering and he had this lovely tree to hide in from his daily tasks. If only the rest of his division didn’t interrupt him when he was relaxing with endless official tasks he ‘had’ to do as the lieutenant of the third division.

Yet the universe didn’t want him to relax either. A black butterfly announced its arrival in the voice of Captain Commander Goken Kuribayashi.

„Gotei 13 - my brothers and sisters,” his voice barreled, “in an hour time, the annual Hakuda tournament - courtesy of our own Captain Masumata and his Seventh Division, is going to take place. I, Goken Kuribayashi, invite you to register if you haven’t already. All entries are open until five minutes before the first match, which means you have enough time to reach their barracks and enter the competition. It is a great honor for your Squad, but even more so, for you - should you win such a prestigious contest. Last year, Second Squad took the trophy to their barracks. This year, it is again, up for grabs. And remember, Hakuda is not about how hard you hit – it is about how hard you can get hit and keep pushing on.”

“It’s that time again, huh?” Akira spoke out loud to no one but himself,the leaves and the lonely cloud above him. He really had never cared for this tournament, the reason being that he really wasn’t that skilled in the art of Hakuda. Instead he prefered the way of the sword - or simply straight up fighting, with no rules and no handicaps but your own lack of skill. It was the survival of the fittest and nothing else - a code he actually found himself missing more often than not from his time in the 11th division. Well it wasn’t like he didn’t like it in the 3rd division, he was a lieutenant after all and captain Genji wasn’t th-

“There you are!” A high pitched voice pierced the calming songs of the nature, and at the same time sending a bolt of electricity up his spine as it interrupted his line of thought. “What are you doing up there! Do you have any idea how long I have been looking for you!? Do you really think you can escape from your duties…”

The rest of her voice was blocked out by Akira, a skill he had obtained through the many years as a shinigami - if you didn’t hear anything, you didn’t have to do anything. It really was as simple as that, or at least that was the code Akira lived by, much to the annoyance of those that needed him for official business.

“Are you even listening to me you lazy idiot!?” the girl below screamed, having noticed that Akira was lost in his thoughts again.

“Yea yea…” Akira mumbled quietly to himself, but just loud enough for the shinigami below to hear. Jumping down from the tree he had been procrastinating in he skillfully landed on his feet, taking another sip of the tea, only to realise that it had become rather cool in the time he had lazily enjoyed in the tree. Tossing the rest of the liquid in his cup aside he turned towards the woman who had yelled at him just moments ago: she was now standing a few feet in front of him, coldly staring at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

Her name was Anu Akira recalled - he had, despite his lazy and carefree demeanor, quite the knowledge of not just the other shinigami in his division, but also of most of the shinigami within the Gotei 13. Why you might ask? Its quite simple: Akira had always believed that those with more knowledge of their enemies had the upper hand and while the shinigamis of the Gotei 13 wasn’t technically his ‘enemies’, it was still better to be prepared for what might happen in the future - even if that mean that you had to kill those you you once called comrades.
This specific ‘comrade’ was an unseated member of his own division that had only just joined the 3rd division straight out of the academy a few years back - however she clearly had big ambitions for her future as she, even as an unseated member, took great responsibility in the official duties of the division. This was to such an extend that she even commanded her lieutenant around like she was the captain - which was the characteristic which had meant that Akira had hired her as his unofficial assistant, or rather, it was because he had wrongly believed that he could push all of his workload onto her.

Anu herself was rather ordinary, she was of average height, she wasn’t pretty but she wasn’t ugly either, her light brown hair was kept in place with a ponytail and her clothes consisted of normal shinigami-clothing. In fact she would almost blend into the surrounding shinigamis around her if it wasn’t for one little detail: her shiny ice-blue eyes that seemed to glow behind a pair of sharp glasses - and the fact that she had a fairly amazing breast area, if Akira had to be brutally honest, not that he ever would in public.

“Hey!” Anu suddenly yelled, breaking the trail of thought in Akira’s mind, “where do you think you’re staring!?”

Akira fluttered his eyes, tearing them away from said ‘amazing breast area’ which he had apparently been staring at while his thoughts were lost in the nether of his mind. “Uhh…” Akira spoke slowly, trying to kick his lazy brain into gear, “just… couldn’t shake the thought of those ‘Twins from Heaven’ out of my m-”

He didn’t get a chance to speak further before a fist fiercely connected with his stomach, forcing him to hunch over as all the air inside of his lungs were abruptly forced out. A groan escaped his lips as he clutched his stomach with his hands.

“Haven’t I told you not to call them that!?” Anu yelled from high above his kneeling stature, however it was clear to Akira just from the sounds of her high pitched voice that she was embarrassed more than angry. “Oh come on, Anu” Akira said with a light grin painted on his face as he rose from the ground, still rubbing the pain away from his stomach with his left hand, “I was just joki-”

Once again Akira was interrupted by Anu’s hand that this time connected with his left cheek with a loud SMACK. “I’ve told you not to joke with that!” she added, this time her voice definitely had tones of anger mixed in with embarrassment.

Okay, perhaps she is a bit angry…” Akira thought sourly while trying to reconnect his jaw with his hand. “You know, you really should start doing something about that habit of hitting people…” He muttered annoyed as he began to follow the path that led to the 3rd Division’s barracks, “it’s definitely not something a lady would do!” With a light laughter he evaded Anu’s third punch by taking a quick step to the side, grinning widely as he added “now now, what did I tell you?”
The only response he received was the angry noise that escaped Anu’s closed lips.

As they finally approached their division’s barracks after a longer walk - Akira specifically picked places furthest away from the barracks as possible when he was procrastinating, that way it decreased the danger of being found (sadly this time that hadn’t been the case..) - Anu spoke for the first time since she had tried to punch Akira for the third time. “Finally,” she said, somehow she sounded rather exhausted Akira noted, “now remember that you have to hand in the final revision of our division’s training schedule that the captain asked for - and don’t you dare try to get out of following up on the newest members of our division, you were supposed to introduce them to our division last week!”

“yada yada…” Akira said, trying to escape the reality of Anu’s voice, “can’t you just do it, you know the drill anyway…”

“Of course I can’t!” Anu erupted, “you’re the lieutenant, it is your job!”

The only response Akira could come up with at that moment was a near silent array of curses and complaints. Luckily for him he didn’t have to come up with a retort as in that specific moment two shinigamis from their division appeared around the corner of one of the wooden hallways of their barracks. They didn’t seem to notice that it was their lieutenant that they walked past as they both were deeply involved in their conversation.

“Did you hear that Miyako Kita won again captain Hiro Masumata in the tournament!? That’s amazing!” One of the two male shinigami exclaimed excited, “can you believe it? A lieutenant beating a captain! Why do we have to have such a useless lieutenant in our division?!”

The other male shinigami laughed deeply before responding, “I know, right? I doubt he could even stand a chance against a 3rd seater! He sure is useless, too bad that captain Genji won’t get rid of him…”

“I know, seems like we are stuck with one of the most use…”

Their voices faded out of range as they turned around another corner, yet the echo of what they had said lingered in the air even after their departure. Anu carefully glanced at said useless lieutenant, did he hear what they had said? Of course he had, he had been right there with her.

Akira had stopped dead in his track, he hadn’t moved a muscle under the whole conversation that had occurred between the two shinigamis that had now disappeared and it took him a few more seconds to react to what had just happened. When he reacted it was exactly how Anu had feared: with anger.

“Oh now I’ve had it!” He yelled to no one in particular, “those baka-domo dare speak badly of their awesome lieutenant!? I sure hope they are prepared for hell!”

With that he started to run after them, leaving Anu dumbfounded behind. It took her a second to be able to respond to the sudden change in pace - and when she finally understood what had just happened the only thing she could think of doing as a response was to yell at the back of her quickly disappearing lieutenant.

“Hey! Don’t you dare try to use that as an excuse to get out of your duties!”

This actually had the effect she had hoped for: Akira stopped up, turned around with a serious look on his face as he replied. “I put my trust in you to deal with the minor tasks - I know you can do it! Now excuse me I am about to go ‘introduce’ those idiots to how we do things here in the 3rd division!”

A devilish grin had formed on his face as he spoke the words, no doubt this ‘introduction’ was a set of gruelling tasks that would border to downright torture - something that Akira had been known to do to those that really pissed him off. Of course this was just an excuse for Akira to escape his duties and head off to the Hakuda tournament in order to see this ‘great’ lieutenant that was so much better than him...

“Hey!” Akira yelled, “Get back here you blithering idiots! I am going to show you just what an awesome lieutenant you are so lucky to have!”
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by MysT3CH
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Donald McQuay ducked, yelling a curse as a volley of bullets impacted the adjacent side of the dumpster he crouched behind. Sparks flying up and past him as the rounds ricocheted off the steel box and entered the ground. With one glance the police lieutenant checked his ammo, reloaded his clip and readied his Beretta. He then looked across the alley to his squad car, or rather his partner hiding behind it. Gritting his teeth, McQuay firmed as yet another volley of bullets hit the dumpster in three round bursts.

His partner, Ray Davis, then threw his arm over the cruiser's hood, gripping the door with one hand as he let loose a rapid string of shots with deadly precision. His long barrelled shotgun letting out five deafening 'bangs' as it tore through the bodies of two mask wearing thugs with rifles. Immediately, the remaining two gun men re-concentrated their fire on the shotgun wielding corporal, effectively giving McQuay a much needed relieve. Wasting no time, the lieutenant rolled around the side of the dumpster, simultaneously aiming down his weapon's sight as he switched it's fire mode to rapid. Inhaling, he then let off three four round bursts, watching with pleasure as one ripped through a bandit's shoulder, burying two rounds within it.

While he didn't go down, the thug turned and took flight. Jumping into the driver's seat of the black Camaro they had been using for cover. In a rage, his companion continued to open fire, spraying blindly in the general direction of the two cops as he swore wildly in Spanish. As the Camaro's horn sounded, it's engine roared to life. The frantic thug inside slamming his foot down on the accelerator as to send the vehicle forward in a cloud of dust, it's wheel's temporarily spinning against the gravelled alley floor as he took off. Within seconds the car was then maneuvered out of the narrow alley and onto the main road, leaving only an angry and desperate gunman in it's place. His mouth worked beneath his mask.

"Vete a la mierda morir, vamos!" Each syllable seemed to be accompanied by a flurry of bullets, all of which whizzed past the heads of officers McQuay and Davis as they crouched behind their respective covers. Straining his voice in an attempt to overtake the thunderous sounds of the gunfire, Donald screamed across the alley to his partner. His heart sank as his words fell on seemingly deaf ears. Trying again, the policeman blindly fired a few rounds over the top of the dumpster, hoping they would deter the assailant from firing. Again his words were lost in the chaos. Frustrated he glanced back, letting his azure eyes rest upon the brick wall to the rear.

"Fuck! God damn it! Ray you son of a bitch!" At long last the African-American cop turned his dread-locked head, an angry look on his face as the window above his head shattered, causing a down pour of glass to fall down upon the middle aged man's frame. He swore as the shards cut at his face.

"It's no-" The Hispanic thug fired another volley at him, this time cursing himself as his gun made a loud series of hollow clicks. Realizing what it meant, Ray leapt up from behind the battered police car, his arms furiously working his shotgun's pump as he unloaded the rest of his clip in the gunman's direction. With a satisfied smirk McQuay watched as three of his partner's four shots ripped through the crook's torso, almost, but not quite cutting him in half as they passed through his flesh. His mutilated corpse splattered against the ground.

Like a fox on the hunt, McQuay leapt up, instantly breaking into a full sprint for the cruiser as Davis double checked the corpses. The engine flared, causing the sirens to bawl out with life despite the fact that only the blue light remained intact. Through Davis turned without hesitation, he was already too late. For McQuay was already flooring the accelerator, thus forced his partner to dive behind the dumpster in order to avoid being hit.

As he pulled out into the street, Donald yanked the steering wheel hard to his left, a vengeful determination compelling him to catch the lone escapee as he raced down Gardena boulevard. Driving in endless slaloms, he weaved in and out of traffic, causing the other drivers to swerve and brake nervously as the white charger barrelled down the busy street. It wasn't long before he, if only faintly, caught a glimpse of the Camaro making a right onto a side street. Relieved, McQuay gave chase. His blonde, spiked hair twisting against the wind as his blue eyes scanned the roads before him. Finally approaching the street, he too made a right, swerving around a motorcyclist as he took the corner.

Unable able to keep up with McQuay's desire, the cruiser let out a long high pitched whine. A series of heavy 'snaps' and 'clanks' signaling the overdue death of the car's bullet battered engine. Donald grimaced with worry, listening in fear as a final loud and boisterous 'pop' ran out from under the hood. Steam seeping up from it's crevices as a furious McQuay fought for control of the vehicle. Failing, he simply hit the brakes, his face growing grim as the charger ploughed into a light post, coming to a bone rattling stop. Despite his pain, Donald swore, gingerly picking up his firearm as he watched the black Camaro race away.
"Tsk" Subrashii cringed. His face visibly displaying hints of annoyance as he looked on at the small screen. While the knowledge of the device's name absent from his mind, the shinigami continued to stare blankly at the images displayed upon the smartphone. "Human's are so... shameful." With that he through the device to the side - sending it reeling into the wall as it fell apart with a loud crack. A moment later, and the robustly built man had risen from his lethargic squat. Alone in the dark room that was his quarters, he then moved to the only light source within the room, a single square window. Looking out, he let his mind wondered towards the tournament and all those whom had taken part. A menacing grin replacing his indifferent gaze as he pondered what was to come.

"Soon."
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by LimeyPanda
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Akiko Ikamochou, 12th division Lieutenant


--One hour earlier—


Research was a rigorous thing. So much of it was guesswork, even if it happened to be educated guess work. The amount of times an individual could remove the core of a particle of reishei and attempt to carefully transfer it into the harvested Hierro cells of a Menos, keeping both elements intact, was only so limited. For some, the process would become dull and intolerable after a dozen failed attempts to successfully bond the two components. For the more diligent of scientists, a hundred or so attempts would be required before the act was fumed at as ‘impossible.’

For Akiko, the tally had reached an impressive Twelve hundred and forty seven failed attempts, and two days without any notable reprieve, before she eventually succumbed to exhaustion. After a while, a few unseated members of the twelfth division had come into the Lieutenant’s research lab; having drawn up the courage to potentially face the woman’s wrath, should they disturb her during a moment of particular concentration. Akiko was not known for having a violent temperament, but it was noted that any scientist could be made into a most wrathful individual, given the right disturbance.

Instead, the unseated scientists found the woman asleep at her desk. She was drooling into a small pile of napkins, either intentionally placed or conveniently predicting the place her head would fall after exhaustion levels reached their peak. Either way, the woman had a strangely peaceful look about her, free of intense concentration or thought and instead filled with a pleasant colouration of her cheeks; as if she were dreaming of something pleasant.

After a few moments of appreciation, one of the unseated members recalled why they had made their way into the room, and nudged at the lieutenant’s arm. “Akiko? Akiko-sama? You need to wake up now. The Hakudo tournament has begun.” Despite the nudge and the words, the woman slept on: ignoring the entirety of the statement in favour of sleeping more. Two days without food, water or sleep had left her somewhat drained.

The second of the unseated officers, an older man with a painted face, nudged the youngest of the pair aside and leaned down to Akiko’s ear: whispering to make the point more important. “Captain Zume is over there already.”

At the mention of the captain’s name, Akiko’s eyes shot open and, with a new, re-invigorated look in her eyes, she scanned the surroundings in sudden interest and with a glint of hopeful joy. Upon finishing her quick examination and having noted that only the two unseated officers were in the room, did she adjust her glasses slightly, while grabbing a small napkin to dab at her chin. “Thank you for waking me up. Can you go and fetch me a plate of food and a bottle of water? I will be making my way up to the tournament after feeding myself and making myself presentable. Once the tournament is over, I’d like you two to help me continue with the work on the Hierro bonding. Is that acceptable?”

The two bowed, and left without objection. It seemed that most of the twelfth division were aware of Akiko’s strange habits when it came to binge-working. It was not unknown for her to work on a project for great spans of time without break, only for a curious assistant to come in and find her asleep at her desk. Some might think her a slouch, if not for the amount of progress she had made in the division: especially in her preferred lines of work. Her success rate was second only to Zume himself.

Speaking of Zume, Akiko found herself feeling a sort of giddiness at the prospect of the tournament. She knew some of what her captain had intended with the tournament, and seeing him in action was always a delight: if only because she had a chance of glimpsing at the true show. It was always the most delightful of pleasures, to watch as he worked, understanding the schemes he worked at under the layers of charisma and deceit, only to then realised that she was an exclusive observer, even when surrounded by others. So few could have even a hope of glancing into the schemes and designs of captain Zume; so much so that she was sure even she did not understand the true scope of his mind: despite the time they spent together.

Akiko strode out of her lab, locking it behind her as she made her way towards her private quarters. She quickly changed out of her work robes and into a proper Shihakushō. Admiring herself in a full length mirror, she felt the urge to alter her robe to be a bit more risqué: as was more common amongst some of the other female members of Soul Society. She wondered if the alterations would prove advantageous at all, in either battle or in getting Zume to notice her a bit more as a woman, as opposed to just an assistant.

The sound of knocking at her door disturbed her train of thought, and she opened the door to find the two unseated officers, each holding various items: Food, the bottle of water, stacks of paper work and even a couple of sealed envelopes. She had no idea where to even begin with all of the paperwork, but she quickly dug into the food, dismissing the two researchers. She’d be a while, it seems.
--Current time--

At the barracks of the seventh squad, Akiko found herself late to the festivities. The woman at the sign in desk was almost ready to pack away her things when Akiko was approaching, and for a moment, the lieutenant feared she was going to miss out on the tournament. Thankfully, she was told that she could be entered easily enough, if she didn’t mind waiting a while for a fight. Akiko was more than happy to accept that, and she made her way towards the stands. Just before she left, the woman at the desk shouted back towards her. “Captain Zume did very well though. A shame he was knocked out so early: his fight with Shoto-sama was fun to watch, it seemed very close.”

Akiko felt her jaw nearly drop. Not only had she missed Zume’s display, but he was out of the tournament? How unexpected. Had he perhaps failed in his experiment? Perhaps this perceived failure was intentional? It wouldn’t surprise her to find that Zume had intentionally lost the match, to feign fragility in his perfection, so as to have him appear less perfect than he truly was.

It still warranted further examination though. She turned and bowed to the woman, a perfectly crafted fake smile on her face. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll be sure to congratulate him now.”

Deciding she was eager to hear the information about his defeat, Akiko began to Shunpo through the barracks, avoiding the odd person who wandered the halls. She quickly found herself in the stands, and spotted captain Zume in his seat, watching the rest of the fight. Noticing an empty seat next to him, she made one last jump, before resting herself in the seat next to Zume, bowing her head in respect as soon as she was in his presence. “Greetings, Captain Zume-sama. It seems I missed your bout. Was it a success?” Her question, of course, was less simple than asking about a loss or a victory. They were scientists, after all. The fight had been an experiment for the Twelfth division captain, and it was that which Akiko wanted to know about. Had he succeeded?

Eyes surveying the landscape of the crowd, Zume appeared attentive and aware of his surroundings, and indeed he was. However, the captain was hardly concerned with the rest of the tournament and even less worried about those who watched. Instead his mind was going over the results of his battle and so far it had deduced that while he had appeared to lose the battle, he had won the war, so to speak. So when his lieutenant shunpo'd her way to her place at his side, a place that he was, in some ways, grateful to have her, he replied as follows. "The war was won, though the battle lost," his cryptic statement was made clearer as his dancing hazel eyes turned to the woman and locked on her, a small pleased smile on his lips. "As you know I've not perfected the technique as of yet, but that will come later. It is ready enough to be utilized in combat, this I know for sure now," he nodded, turning away and gazing down at the platform as they all waited for the next contestants.

This was the second reason he was here, to survey the fighting styles across the seireitei. It always intrigued him to see these things, even if hakuda was only a small part of a shinigami's repertoire it was important to those who had joined, though he know there were others who had decided not to attend. An unfortunate truth that mattered little to the man. He knew Akiko would likely question him on the details of the fight, which he would surely divulge later on, but for now he'd have to meet her questions with more...vague answers. He didn't want everyone knowing of this new technique just yet.

Akiko listened to the words of her captain with an obvious interest, and she immediately discerned his intent from the words. She had not been far off the mark when she assumed he had met his objective, although it seems he had not actually set out to lose. The experiment had been successful, but Zume had still been knocked out of the tournament. "I'm sorry to hear that you did not win your battle Zume-sama. But as with all things, diligent calibration can only lead to greater successes."

Akiko glanced down at the central stage, watching a rather mundane looking fight between two lowly seated members of various divisions. The pair had followed a tough act, and very few seemed interested in the match itself. "Do I have leave to enter the tournament then, Zume-sama?"

Smiling he nodded once more, appearing to pay close attention to the battle as if he were intrigued. "Why of course, I presume you already signed on, and are merely asking permission to leave my side," he looked at her, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, he had a tendency to tease her at times, hinting at her obsession with his activities, but never making it entirely plain as to whether or not he cared. It would be interesting to see her fight, he thought to himself. Perhaps she would show something more amusing than the two amateurs who had now taken the stage.

It would be refreshing, of that much he was certain.

"...and if I should meet the man who you lost the battle to?" Akiko was trying to prove Zume for information about a number of things with this last question: most importantly, how much he cared about the loss, or how much he cared about her performance, or if he even remembered the man's name. It was her own little test: to see just what she could gather from her captain, as of his motives or feelings on this failed aspect of his experiment. For there was no doubt in her mind that he would see his defeat as an annoyance, and no doubt that he would receive a degree of ridicule for his loss at the hands of someone less than a captain.

Zume did not even spare her a glance this time, instead he did not respond for a long while, his eyes appearing slightly less amused when he finally responded. "Congratulate him on his success," there was an odd tone to his voice, a mixture of smugness and annoyance. It was as if he was hinting that his loss had been an intentional action, an annoyance, but a beneficial one. While not many knew, Zume was a man who never did anything without purpose. Every action he took was essentially to further some goal or agenda that he held, whether those involved knew it or not. That was simply how he functioned, and he was exceptionally good at it too, not to mention he knew how to cover his tracks just as well.

It made it very difficult to tell when he was being genuine, or if he ever was to begin with.

Akiko nodded in amusement at the response, seeing one of the very rare chinks in Zume's armour that would be impossible for most to see. This was why Captain Zume was worthy of her time and attention. This was a man who held himself and his position with a perfectly refined and practiced grace that made him so enigmatic, despite his obvious superiority: To many, he was the kind-if-eccentric Captain of the twelfth division; to some, he was the dangerously unknown element inside of Soul Society that commanded fear and respect; and to a select few, he was both of those things and so much more.

Reaching into her sash, Akiko seemed to pull out a bag of sorts: which she unwrapped slowly and offered to Zume. "Since I have to wait for my match, I thought I would stay here, should that please you Zume-sama. I brought a new snack for you to try: Takoyaki. I made them myself, as always." Like many things, Akiko excelled at cooking once she put her mind to it. She had quickly discovered that the culinary 'arts' were not, in fact, art at all: but instead a very exact science. Measurement, time-management, and a hint of creative thinking: both cooking and research required those things, after all.

Inside the bag, alongside two dozen Takoyaki balls of perfectly equal, spherical form, was a metal skewer, ideal for the consumption of the warm dish: it seemed Akiko had failed to miss a trick, as always.

Smiling at the mention of Takoyaki, Zume nodded gratefully and took some of the offered food items. Slowly, almost meticulously, he began to consume them, savoring the slightly sour flavor and the ever so crunchy flavor of the fried snack. It did well to refuel after using a decent amount of energy, especially in the manner he had during his bout with Shota. He was of course grateful for more than just the Takoyaki, in truth he was also rather grateful to have a lieutenant such as Akiko...at least on the surface. Beneath the facade she was a useful piece on his grand chessboard, one that he would use to its maximum efficiency if even half of his plans went well. He was, as Akiko had surely deduced by now, an exceptionally diligent and calculating individual, he had let on that much to her.

He had figured that, at least on the second level, this woman was trustworthy. Her obsession with him was something that he had every intention to utilize. She was a valuable asset, all in all and he needed as many of those as he could acquire, not that he didn't have a fair amount already, because he certainly did. "They're quite good, as usual," he said as he finished his second spherical treat, after which he gently acquired two more from her. He figured this much would be enough recognition and food to help him get back to his peak. Granted the healing kido would take a bit longer, though no less than a few more minutes, to heal the fairly minor injuries inflicted upon him.

Even with the injuries factored in the tournament had now done more good than it had wrought bad, at least with him in mind. The boy owed him a favor now, and he had also shown an interest in learning his technique, which meant that he could further endear the boy to him, much to his personal benefit. If that weren't enough he had gathered enough data to conclude that he could use his new style in combat with little worry of it being ineffective or failing him unpredictably. It had already been a productive day in his opinion, and it was only bound to become more so.

A slightly crimson flush took to the lieutenant's cheeks, upon hearing the compliment. Perhaps the only moment thus far that belayed some of the less...'logical' moments she had, as a result of her fixation upon the twelfth division captain. She did not disillusion herself in his ignorance as to her affections, and since she knew Zume to be a master manipulator, she had no doubt that he was not only aware of those feelings, but that he openly used them to his benefit.

Yet surely, that was a part of his charm: His intelligence, his forethought, his understanding of the world; on top of his charisma, power and appealing appearance. All of those things made up the man worthy of her time and her affection. As of yet, none had proved his equal, so why should her affections wonder elsewhere? "You honour me as always, Captain. I'm thinking of trying salted-caramel shortbread next." She placed the bag of snacks between the pair, after Zume partook of his last two. She was not a huge fan of such snacks: much preferring sweet foods. If only four were eaten, then so be it. Besides, knowing Zume: he might socialise with a captain, after she leaves: and the snacks might prove a decent ice breaker.

Straightening her back and assuming a more proper position on the chair, Akiko's eyes across the crowd, uninterested in the fight below. She wondered if she might spot any other important Shinigami in the observers, and she hoped that her time people-watching might provide some distraction from the boredom of the show below. Anything would do, really: an interesting captain, an observant lieutenant, anything that might distract her wandering mind. She'd have a while before she had to fight, either way.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by LostBrotherGrimm
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Nest of Maggots


The dim light of the cave flickered violently on the high ceiling. Occasionally a prisoner started screaming, pleading his innocence; yet the sounds of his voice faded sooner rather than later, realizing the futility of it all. Usually, the prisoners were allowed to roam freely around the prison, but nowadays, rare were those that opted to do so. The young guards were rather playful, finding a hobby in beating life out of prisoners. They were allowed to do so, for no one cared much. No one was allowed to carry a Zanpakuto in the Nest, therefore a Hakuda beating was considered a legitimate alternative for keeping the prisoners in check. Or at least, that was the impression she had gotten. And it made her sick.

Under the light, Hitomi glanced up, her small frame barely illuminated by the light source. No one had paid her much heed, had no reason to. Not even the guards unleashed some of their boredom upon her, probably due to her entrancing appearance. She had pale skin and long, red hair; a beautiful woman indeed.

Yet, her beauty was constricted within these walls. She was not supposed to be here and, to make the matter worse, she had no clue as to where her Zanpakuto was. It was, indeed, a troublesome situation she had found herself in. "Bastards... leaving me here for so long," Hitomi muttered to herself, as she looked around in order to spot the guard that was on duty today.

And there he was, a very young boy - she believed his name was Hebi. Analyzing the rest of the area, she did not spot other guards; perfect. On her way back to her cell, she faked an illness, hopefully attracting the attention of the boy. Of course she attracted his attention, she had seen the way he was looking at her. There was no need to waste any more time; Hitomi was due to relay the information in a few hours.

It was about time for her skin to see the light of the sun again. And to tell that bastard Jin what he had coming.

***

Somewhere in Soul Society


A black haired man, standing on a wall to the Seireitei, sneezed. He grimaced before putting his leather mask on, inhaling the sweet scent of Reiatsu stored inside of the beak. "Now that's what I'm talking about. You ready yet?" Jin turned to his companion, who was busy lowering two bags to the district side of the wall. For a moment, it seemed as if the big man would not pay the question any mind, before his deep voice pierced the sounds of silence. "Almost." He already had his mask on, and showed no intention of showing his face. Nor speaking any further. "It has been a long time since I've been here. Makes me nostalgic to the bones." Jin smirked as he dropped down the wall, clearly not keen on waiting anymore. A split second before his leg had touched the ground, he vanished and appeared on the rooftop in the distance - not even looking back. "Slowpoke."

His blue cloak, dark as the deep sea, danced in the wind - its surface was full of runes, various writings of ancient origin. His companion had the cloak of same kind, thus emitting extremely low amounts of spiritual pressure, prohibiting ordinary Shinigami, lieutenants and captains alike, to detect them.

Indeed, the cloaks made it unable for them to detect each other, but they both had the same destination in mind. Even if separated, they would meet up eventually. At an incredibly fast rate, Jin kept shunpoing towards his target, basking in the sight of Seireitei after all them years.

Soon, winds of change are going to blow the Gotei 13 apart.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by MysT3CH
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Meanwhile...
Outside the Seventh Division Barracks...


Fatigue. It coarsed through him like a venomous plague. Draining his body, and breaking his will, as he meandered through the empty room. Dramatically, albeit cautiously, Hiro then allowed himself to collapse against a nearby wall. Letting his back slide down it until he sat squarely upon the ground. His breaths almost a weeze as he interlocked both hands atop his head.

"YOU CALL YOURSELF A CAPTAIN?!!! HEAVE THAT TRASH!"

Hiro's eyebrow twitched.

With the first day of the tournament having almost come to a close, it was time for the Seventh Division to begin it's garbage sweep, ensuring that the grounds would be clean for the next day. Of coarse, as with every year before, 'the Seventh Division' meant Hiro. Only this year, he was fortunate enough to have his 'favourate' stuffed toy at his aid.

"I said. HEEEEAVE! THAT! TRASH!!" Mr. Ziggy, the twelve inch tall blue stuffed... creature, whom sat atop of the twenty foot garbage bag, shot a multitude of rather painful laser beam into Hiro's backside via his eyes. While the fact that he could even do this bewildered the shinigami, the man simply shot to his feet and momentarily glared at the animated stuffed-toy. Allowing thoughts of cutting it to shreds to bring him joy as a grinning Ueru looked on at the spectacle. Alas, Hiro eventually sighed and commenced pulling the mountain of garbage away from the barracks. He knew better that to attack Mr. Ziggy, especially with Ueru at his back.

"Charmer, is he not?" The wolf-man's laugh sounded more like a series of cackling growls than anything of the norm. Causing Hiro to simply shake his head.

While Masumata had been checking on his squad, overseeing the matches, and clearing his head since his match, Ueru had only just left his position within the stands. Apparently drawn to the Mod-Soul's presence. Hence how he came to be enjoying the scene currently at hand.

"Baka." The word left Hiro's mouth without having been aimed at anyone in particular. Annoyance on his face as he gagged on the smell of the warm and decaying garbage at his back.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by yoshua171
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Zume Tatasuko


His eyes trained on the tournament, Zume finally decided he had obtained plenty of data from this event, and so he rose to his feet, his gaze falling to Akiko as he did so. “Feel free to stay and attend your match. However, I think it is due to I depart, Akiko.” He then bowed his head graciously, smiled lightly, and turned from her.

The next moment he was gone in a series of perfectly executed shunpo, for while he was not the best among his peers, his skill and perfect timing allowed him to maximize the movement to his liking.

As he traversed soul society, passing over the central fortress, Zume stopped, taking brief respite upon the highest tower of the structure where he could observe the entirety of the seireitei. I can smell it in the air, the mastermind thought to himself, glancing over the 12th division and then back over the 7th momentarily before his eyes scanned the rest of the massive city, for that's what it was in truth. Eventually his eyes lay upon the form of the 2nd division, after which point they darted back to the 12th where they stayed. Soon, he thought, before jumping from the pillar and blasting towards his division.

Perhaps he would check on the experiments in progress, or do some work on the seed. On the other hand, it might be good of him to check his hollow samples, or the monitors. Ahhh, always so much to do. No rest for the wicked they say, he smiled at that thought, a dark smile, which faded faster than it had formed, leaving behind his pleasant facade.

He wondered what would happen next.
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Akiko Ikamochou, 12th division Lieutenant


As her captain made his excuses to leave, Akiko did nothing more than bow her head respectfully. It would be an exercise in futility for him to stay, and an even greater waste of time and of her breath to pretend otherwise in some sort of wasted dialogue. Instead, she remained in her seat, head bowed until the sound of his first Shunpo alerted her of his departure.

After that, she simply waited for her turn to do battle in the tournament. It seemed the attendance this time around was somewhat greater than normal, which was unusual. She tried to hypothesise the reason behind the increased amount of fighters, when an announcement was made by the Captain-Commander that the tournament was over for the day. Akiko felt her mouth twist into a mildly annoyed frown. What a waste of time this had been for her, as she’d missing captain Zume’s match and failing to compete in her own on the first day. It was almost sad to think of the time lost, time and resources that could have been used by her to further any number of her projects. The augmentation project wasn’t going to complete itself, after all.

Speaking of which, another project was in need of her attention. She had a third agenda with the Hakudo tournament, she must admit, namely, meeting with the 3rd seat of the 2nd division, Saru Feng. She had expected to see him in the tournament, yet had failed to even catch a glance at the man: Which, on reflection, was odd considering his bright blue hair that seems vastly counterproductive for a member of Onmitsukidō.

Nevertheless, she was sure she wouldn’t need him. She had made visits to the Maggot’s nest before, accompanying him in some such regard. He had been very helpful in providing her with assistance, assuming she offered him the correct bribe. His personality was easy enough to manipulate: offer him the correct compliment here, feed him the right lie there, promise him an increase in power or a favour at a later date…Rather simple, truthfully.

So, with her fellow Shinigami meandering around and looking to meet up with allies and friends, Akiko made her exit using a few simple flash steps. She decided to go ahead and make her way to the Maggot’s nest without the Feng boy. It seemed unlikely that the guard wouldn’t let her past, considering her regular visits alongside Saru Feng.

A few minutes of Shunpo later, Akiko was in the forests of the second division, staring up at the imposing sight of the Nest of Maggots. The doorway looked simple enough, but the frightful thing was that the majority of the structure was underground. The complex was an astounding thing, and she had only learned of its existence from an offhand comment made by captain Zume.

At the entrance, she made a brief conversation with the guard, and handed over her Zanpakuto. It was always a strange feeling to abandon her blade at the door, but only because the weight was familiar. If she had been forced to draw it, it would only have been to awaken her Shikai anyway. Her fists were significantly more effective weapons.

From there, she began her descent. The long descent into the Maggot’s nest had one major purpose for Akiko: Her tests were considerably dangerous to test on live Shinigami, so by offering a few desperate souls a few creature comforts, she is able to test her experiments’ effects. To her, the Maggot’s Nest was a dream, as it was a realm full of live, willing test subjects. She had a number of possible drugs to test, as well as their antidotes, on hand to test.

She reached the large set of doors to the Maggot’s Nest, pushing them open and revealing the scene of the sprawling incarceration unit, and its multitude of inmates. For now, she would simply have to choose which who she could make her offer to.
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