Ryoka Rendezvous (North)

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Ryoka Leon

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"So that means...that one there is 7th Division Headquarters..."

The Ryoka had been traversing through the streets of Seireitei for four days after his battle with Kaizu Takeshi and Jericho Downes, occasionally making use of his Shinigami garbs to casually walk through high traffic areas (it was during these times that Leon wondered how useful Division identification could possibly be, given that the I.D. was hidden away on the inside of the shihakishou), but spending the majority of his time darting through the back alleyways.

He didn't really have a specific idea of where he was going, but he used the towering column that was the Senzaikuyuu-Sou Kyouko area to get his general navigations down, and it was from this that he discovered he was entering the northern portion of the Court.

If I'm passing 7th Division now, I'll probably be close to 5th Division in two days...I have to start slowing down now...all the shyunpo'ing and lack of sleep has begun to exhaust me.

Taking a small breather, Leon slid away into an empty residential section, picking a spot between two vacant houses and rubbing a small section of his sunglasses that had been hit by a sweat drop. As he attempted to steady his breath, he tilted his head skyward, picking out various reiatsu signatures in the area.

The largest signature in the 7th Division Headquarters itself must be their interim Captain, Takero, although he may be a Captain by now. His reiatsu isn't frightening though...actually, I don't think I've felt anything satisfactorily scary except that enormous signature a few days ago...that was probably 'Diega Torres-Cofresi'.

Leon scowled...the mere thought of his skipping past 11th Division without attempting to defeat the famed Captain was still irritating him. Under practically any other circumstances, the Ryoka would've observed his personal axioms and sought out the Captain of the 11th...that was how he evaluated everything...

...the scale of terror.

And a power that large was terrifying...there was no doubt about that. He was practically enraged that he wouldn't have the opportunity to attempt and eradicate his fears over the woman's strength, and had cursed the Black Masked Vizard and his master vehemently from clearly forbidding his personal modus operandi. He took offense to anyone denouncing his thought processes as stupid, since he had forged the system after spending many years reflecting over what he wanted in life. The rationale was anything but stupid, and if given the opportunity, he would articulate the necessity for him to fight only fearsome foes with an eloquence capable of blasting away any doubts over his intelligence.

Unfortunately, the Ryoka was also a lady's man, and the image he gave off was of the typical, all-muscle guy who would get an adrenaline rush from throwing himself into dangerous situations. Leon didn't deny that his blood rushed when he would enter the most precarious of his problems, but there was reason behind his entry into these predicaments, and he felt that this reasoning was what distinguished him from the idiots he had been compared to time and time again.

Thankfully, the Black Masked Vizard considered pretty much everything everyone else did as imbecilic, and so it was easy to forgive and forget when it came to his blatant insulting of Leon's ideology. His other master, however, had not only blasted Leon's sentiments as erroneous, but also warned that they would inevitably lead to his downfall.

Ahh...and that's where they're always wrong...because if I die facing my fears...I still win.

A small snicker appeared on his face, and he chuckled, knowing that the thought was irrational on its own. He looked forward to fighting an opponent who he could elaborate the notion to...and perhaps he would get one yet. While it was true that he had only sensed one genuine threat over the course of his journey, he had started to see a substantial number of 1st Division members patrolling the areas that he had been traveling through.

The 1st Division possesses the most elite warriors in the Gotei 13...if they are focusing on me and my whereabouts, I will inevitably have to fight some difficult battles. They told me that the Captain, Vice Captain, and 3rd Seat in the 1st Division are all high-class stuff...and the 3rd Seat apparently has a real Bankai. What was his name again?

Leon strained for a moment, attempting to retrieve the identity from the pits of his memory, but he hadn't bothered to memorize people below Captain-level very well, and so he could only snatch bits and pieces from the recesses of his mind.

Shou...Yasou? Shouyuu Yasou-something. And the Vice Captain...Ari Murama, I think. We'll see...if I'm going to run into them, I'm going to run into them soon...

The Ryoka slowly rose back to his feet, glancing at the setting sun on the alabaster horizon, and then leapt up to the top of the house he had been leaning against, perceiving a petite dome in the distance that scintillated in the gloaming twilight.

That's 5th Division Headquarters, I imagine...yeah, about one and a half to two days. Hopefully this keeps going smoothly...'cause if there's one person I know I'm going to be scared of, it will be you, Amagawa Sougen.

More or less rested, Leon continued his trek along the outer rim of Seireitei, cutting further into its northern half.
 
E

Eidenhowler

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And ne'er had the heavens bled so black a rain of cosmic dusk, weeping, sobbing, its myriad eyes wasting away whilst the sinned world sat in the Darkness only blind and dead men could see.

And they will remember, they will all remember, Mortals have no place amongst the Eternal, so reminded, so proven by the Knight of the Fathoms, the Eidenvahlir, the Eidenuellvir, the Eidencross, and the Eideniltir-- and birthing from his gut of black steel, with an iron hand that beheld the darkest of nights, an apocalyptic roar that strangled the phantom lands, near and eternally far, that sundered the stagnant air, and caused gods within their thrones to lament, oh! lament for the Arcadian eras long interred!

So he was, the Eidenhowler, agalloping upon his great, dark horse, adorned in the finest of silver and star-brimmed armourcraft, all across the Court of Pure Souls, so frigid and frozen and empty of its Black Attendants... but for one man, a prey, darkly spectacled, the king of Sparta, the Conqueror plunged in ink, the son of Jacob! He who traipsed vehemently in the land that Hates him, a seed dipped in murderous soil, a phoenix belittlingly encapsulated within an infinite sky of even greater fires!

But the Darkness had fallen, dying the City of White into a dystopian abyss, and this lone man-- so pitiful, so fearless-- had been inescapably submerged within the emptiness of it all, but he most defiantly would not bow to the Emperor of Terror that appeared strides before him in plain sight, the Eidenhowler, mounted atop the father of Sleipner, the mother of Pegasus, all caged within the terrible black Armour, the jail of giants, the prison of pandemonium!

The stallion's hooves calmly galloped before the Interloper in the same spirit of a ticking clock, counting down the advent of the Terror as the ebon equestrian's six gazes befell upon the plebeian. There came not even a mist from the inhuman visage, for its breaths were as sable as night. His mighty hand of raven iron next lifted to the soot-silver skies, unraveling its fingers and then clenching them back into a solid fist, one that now gripped the silken handle of an enormous weapon: the calamity of Man, the sword of Titans, the dagger of Gods, a pristine halberd whose brilliant blue blade mirrored the eight-phase Crescent in a lurid cast of dawning lapis lazuli.

At last, the reins stretched and seized, and the stark steed lifted up to issue a colossal neigh of a hundred thunderclaps. Immediately, the Eidenhowler was upon the son of Jacob in a blurred gallop, brandishing the guillotine in a lunar sweep to mow down the intruder from whence he stood.




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Ryoka Leon

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-Fear.-

His sunglasses blackened, and reflected across the jet lenses was the approaching divinity, a ghost that bore a weapon and steed nearly as phantasmagorical as the rider itself. The Ryoka did not have the senses to be grateful for the deserted location...all capability of high level thought processes had been eradicated the moment his auburn eyes had detected the incoming angel.

-Fear.-

He was instantly reminded me of the Book of Revelations (being a Spaniard, he had been raised under Catholicism like the majority of his kin), with the Four Riders of the Apocalypse. The Black Rider was often interpreted to be representative of famine, but surely such a mundane form of catastrophe could not be responsible for the terrifying being racing towards him.

-I smell it in your sweat, coward. Your phobic-ridden nerves are shaking. I feel as if I must steady your heart to prevent it from bursting. Fear!-

Leon attempted to move, but found with an expecting bitterness that he could not, knowing full well that he would be paralyzed with horror. He always was when it came to such things...since he was child, he found that he had a natural tendency to seek out dire situations or learn about some new, terrible thing that would haunt him for days on end. Despite the sleepless nights, the cooing of prayers under his panting, the burning of covering himself with the blanket, to act as a shield...he continued to seek out Fear. It took him a long time to understand why, and it was when he did understand, that he decided it was a necessity.

-That calm, cool composure...what a revolting front. Even now, you're struggling with all of your might to prevent your jaw from dropping. Fear!-

This, however, was different...instead of him finding the Fear, Fear had found him, and now it galloped powerfully towards him, already beginning to brandish his phenomenal weapon, aiming to sweep the Ryoka's head off. Examining the path of the crescent moon reminded Leon of his thoughts earlier, before nightfall, and now he heard his words ring through the depths once again, only this time, enunciated by a newer, darker voice.

-Didn't you say it? "If I die facing my fears, I still win" ? It is one thing to be a coward, but being a hypocrite is unacceptable. You chose to fight your Fear, swearing to your two masters, swearing to me that you would never find something too horrific to battle, never attempt to bite off more than your pitiable fangs could chew...I cannot stand your astonished stupor! Have you already forgotten, you terrified ingrate?!!-

Leon's eyes dilated in the darkness, and the image of the approaching Rider distorted, sending shockwaves throughout the scope of reality. He watched the undulations ripple forth like disturbed water, spreading out until they had encompassed the whole of the world and time. Something cold, something dreadful, something monstrous was behind him, and, trembling, he smiled.

"Ah. No...I haven't forgotten," he said in a resolute timbre, somehow summoning the courage to speak in a steady voice to the abomination waiting at his back...the abomination that stirred dangerously at these words.

-Then stop. You are afraid of it...every stamp of the hooves against the white tiling sends a tremor through your lungs, urging you to flee. You have done much more than vowed to battle that feeling...you have made it your axiom, your truth to live by. Fear. You will destroy that Fear. But you mustn't ever succumb to Fear itself, Fear alone. You've found something to be afraid of...and now you will have to fight it until it departs or is destroyed. It's easy to not succumb to the terror, Leon...you simply have to remember...-

A claw, a paw, a hand, something...it came to rest on the Ryoka's shoulder, and though he did not turn to look at the atrocious beast, he knew its eyes were glowing.

-...that I am the most terrifying thing in the world. Can you remember that?-

Leon felt it beginning to stir in his soul, and the quiet intake of breath was accompanied by the tightening of his fist, the ardent flash of valor in his eyes, eyes hidden behind black sunglasses.

"Of course...Seikan."

-Good. Always remember, Leon...no matter how horrifying the obstacle in your way is...I am infinitely more so. Now...call me out.-

A whirling reverberation filled the cosmos, and Leon felt the Great Terror that prowled so hungrily behind him dissipate, only to join the galvanized bravery in his heart. The ripples that had been generated from their manipulation of the universe regressed back to their origin. The dilapidated realm that had temporarily protected the young warrior from a preeminent demise had now hurled him back into the real world, and back into the fabric of a constantly flowing river of time...time that did not seem too merciful, in that the scintillating halberd of the Black Rider had drawn very close.

"Kyofu o zansetsu nase, Seikan."

The tachi erupted into something else entirely, scraping against the blue blade before the two broke free of one another. The warriors separated slowly, and then Leon turned to gaze at the Black Rider, holding his zanpakutou tightly at his side.

It was a gargantuan sword, longer and wider than its master's own respective dimensions. The edge was straight, and the back side of the blade was cut into seven distinctive spikes that ran the length of its frame. The center was marked by a hollow section, not large enough to compromise the structural integrity of the weapon, but not small enough to be a mere decoration. It bore a thin hand guard, and its hamon was of such wild undulations as to resemble a swelling ocean. The zanpakutou seemed to pulsate a single time before its wielder hoisted it effortlessly over his shoulder, managing to lever it off before the serrated backside began.

"I'm afraid of you, fella...so, do the honors of fighting me, so that I may vanquish the said fear. It's rather...important in a personal way, you see," Leon called in a powerful, profound tone that resonated sonorously in the air between the two.
 
E

Eidenhowler

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A thousand crows insulted the sky from the blinding clash of steel biting steel, and the Howling Engine parted from the company of the Fearless but briefly, guiding the sinuous steed 'round to confront him once again. Low snarls escaped from the beast's ivory teeth, its pupil-less glimpse, aflare with the essence of a crowning corona, hating the invader with a wordless zeal.

The horrible hand, once manning the reins, relieved itself and rose to span its fingers over the cruel countenance, succumbing to a shivering motion as if burning staves had been plunged through the flesh and bone of its palm. The Eidenhowler's six oculi quivered erratically, all drawing their fierce stares to cut through the image of the lamb before overflowing the very midst of the dreadnought's face with a neon coruscation, a cataclysmic aureole of ripping white.


"...Lord, make them feel true Terror. Let them remember that they are Naught but human."

At once, the ebony hand returned to the reins, and its opposite twin unwaveringly presented the towering Longinus to the witnessing moon. In that motion, the terrible visage was enshrouded within a colourless conflagration, driving all sheets and ounces of light to sizzle and bend in an apoplectic oscillation. And as if to heed his call, a phenomenon in the form of a sky-flooding structure of skeletal light was born from the xenon haze of the moon, outlining the very scheme of perpetual Utopia itself in the black canvases of exiled Heaven. An artificial morning inundated the realm of souls with frightening immediacy, with the firmamental expanses themselves as one single sun bearing down and cracking the world in half, and no other object radiated more exuberantly than the halberd itself, so steeped in light that light itself was caught ablaze... but in the end, there was the Word, and the blurred descent of the pale Weapon upon the skull of the Infidel:

"T S U K U Y O M I ! !"

Birthed from the Word was a single quasar, once smaller than the head of an ant, but not even an instant later ballooning into a nova larger than the Land itself, banishing the Interloper into...

...the sunset.

The sunset.

It was sunset again.

The Vision of Frigid Apocalypse all but a passing dream... a sudden dream... naught but a mere dream.

But, what a useful dream it had been.

For as the daydreaming Intruder would discover, none remained with him in that Court of Pure Souls but for one man... one man, stained in a warm silhouette against the aging sun and peering down upon the Fearless with eyes more keen than any steel the Intruder could ever hope to forge.




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Hurricane

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Even prepared as he was, Muramatsu still felt fear at the sight of the Eidenhowler. High above the intruder and the obsidian rider was the old man, his braided hair and beard both flowing in the chilling breeze midway down his chest, his eyes focusing resolutely on the shape of the Spaniard far below. A black cloak was his only garment save his shinigami uniform, and none of his several tattoos were visible. He stood at his full height, an statuesque six foot two with bow in hand, and sheathed zanpakutou at his left side. At his right was another weapon, though only the handle was visible, the rest hidden by the folds of his uniform and cloak. Such was how the warrior came to battle, watching the scene unfold before him with a practiced Stoic attitude. Even before the Eidenhowler's fearsome image had vanished from the scene, Arihito already had his Ushin Enpa in hand with an arrow nocked and ready. Staring down the shaft towards the intruder, time seemed to slow down as the old shinigami focused on his target.

One shot.

His heartbeat increased and he tried to ignore the terrifying rider, giving all his attention to the frozen image of the intruder.

That's all I'll get.

The Eidenhowler swept forward in another charge, but Arihito was ready.

The Obsidian Knight vanished, and perched high above, framed against the ever-setting sun was an old man with a bow. And he let fly. The loosed Ya arrow accelerated as it raced towards it's target of the intruder's knee, and already Arihito's right hand was moving back towards the quiver on his back to retrieve another arrow.

The two warriors were now alone on the battlefield, not a soul within a five mile radius to possibly interrupt the duel which was about to ensue. But the Fukutaichou of the First Division wouldn't have it any other way...
 

Ryoka Leon

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When the initial hallucination departed, Leon had returned to his senses almost instantaneously, the result of two items: one, his sunglasses had prevented the brilliant incandescence from completely blinding him (despite this, his eyes still burned from the sheer volume of light that had poured out of the Black Rider's weapon), and more importantly, his conquering of his paralyzed state...for while it was true that he still wanted to recoil from the abominable mirage that had attacked him, he had also wanted to fight it so that he could obliterate his terror, and this desire was far stronger than any animalistic impetus to flee. Indeed, it was his human trait, and consequently, his greatest.

And so, when the Black Rider had swept his blue halberd downwards from the heavens, Leon had seen a glimpse of the nature of its creation.

"Let them remember that they are Naught but human"? You scorn humanity...you find more power in seeking things that have not been touched by humanity...and you detest what you believe are humanity's shortcomings.

With the vision dissipating in the air before him, he found himself exhaling a wistful sigh.

If we meet again, Rider...when we fight...you will tell me why you believe such things, while I shall seek to crush this intense horror at your mere presence. And when we have finished, I-

The arrow pierced his knee with a thwack, quickly followed by an expulsion of blood that soaked the surrounding tiles in dark crimson vitality.

Leon dropped on to his other knee, caught completely off guard and feeling the throbbing palpitations of pain surging with every beat of his heart throughout his body: he gritted his teeth in agony, holding back a yelp of surprise and excruciation. Swearing under his breath, he easily slammed the enormous Seikan in front of his body to act as a makeshift buffer while trying to recover.
 

Ryoka Leon

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The sun continued its slow descent, casting orange light onto the vastness of the Seireitei and the soon to be battlefield in which blood had already been spilled. The streaks of crimson stood in sharp contrast to the surrounding white, and the spilled blood foretold of a storm which was about to descend.

Staring down the shaft of an arrow once more, Arihito paused. The intruder had put his massive blade between himself and the archer, thusly protecting himself from any further attacks from the bow, just as Arihito had predicted. What the old man hadn't seen earlier, was the gap within the blade itself. A small opening, a tough shot for all but the most masterful archer, but an opening nonetheless.

I'm not ready to leave my perch quite yet... thought Arihito to himself with a grim smile before taking aim at the small gap in the shikai of his foe, Let's leave the first response up to our foe below...

The Ya arrow flew forward as Arihito released it, again accelerating as it covered the distance between the two combatants. The gray-haired old man's hand went back to his quiver again, but his mind and eyes concentrated upon his foe for any movement or possible retaliation.


Huddled behind the steel wall, the Ryoka had steadied his labored breathing enough to regain his composure, and as he consciously pressed the searing pain coursing through his veins into the recesses of his mind, he calmed his nerves, shaking violently in the wake of the attack.

"You possess a cool demeanor, Leon...know that it should always be your state of mind, your external appearance. Even if you feel as if you must transparently fake it, show it nonetheless. It is how a dastardly, half-rate swordsman such as yourself can fight against genuine warriors, genuine fear, or both."

He was a natural at this regression...after all, he had been doing it all of his life: long before he realized it, he had discerned what was the best method of attacking his fears...indifference.

And now, here, with an arrow lodged into his leg and blood beginning to overflow the crevices between the surrounding tiles, the Ryoka found that he didn't really care about the pain...that, like the fear that had stricken him earlier, was an obstacle to overcome.

With his mind beginning to clear, the cacophonous reverberation was easy enough to detect over the quiet silence that had settled over the battlefield.

Thwum~

An alabaster tempest erupted forth, conjured by the upward stroke of a silver mountain, and producing a bombardment of pallid rocks that tore the arrow to shreds like paper, and hurtled towards its firer. Still kneeling from his vantage point, Leon surveyed the accuracy of his retaliation with an unruffled temperament, slowly lowering Seikan from its position overhead: the back spikes had been ripped free of the floor with such violent force as to propel the clinging debris directly towards the Ryoka's antagonist.

The debris hurtled forth with frightening ferocity, and ripped the silver arrow aimed to end the battle quickly to shreds. A sound equivalent to a roar of thunder reverberated off the nearby buildings, the sound assaulting the ears of the watcher, bow still in hand.

High above the scene, Ari's focused eyes watched the behemoth blade rip out of the earth, and silently observed the oncoming rush of death. His hands drew back the bow string one last time, with practiced calm, and fired through the maelstrom, aiming for the very center of the Ryoka's form. His shot away, Arihito lept forward and down, diving towards the earth. The hurled earth ravaged the point on which he had stood, but the old warrior streaked downwards, his form blurring with the speed he was attaining.

He was not far from the wall of the building he was rapidly descending, and his right hand went to his side to retrieve the hidden object from earlier. The object flashed out and struck the wall, biting in and slowing down the Shinigami as he continued to descend. Arihito then moved his right foot towards the wall as well, and with gentle movements slowed his descent even more. Finally, the object dug home completely and Arihito was left hanging precariously halfway up the tower on which he had been perched.

Laughing, the old man shrunk his Ushin Enpa which was in his left hand and replaced it on his back before calling out to the emptiness, "Why did you come here Ryoka? And most of all, why did you come to me?"


No immediate reply came, and instead, a dull, fragile peace blanketed the distance between the two figures, until the one on the ground stirred.

The last arrow that had been fired was held strongly in the Ryoka's fingers, caught only a foot or so away from his calm visage, and as his opponent watched, he crushed it like a frail tree branch, then tossed the pieces over his shoulder and into the wind. With the same coolness, Leon reached down and, subsequently causing another spurt of blood, ripped the arrow free of his mutilated knee, snapping this one in much the same manner as the previous.

His head could be seen tilting back up towards his foe, and his chest expanded in the subtle taking of breath, signifying his imminent vociferation.

"Get lost."

The response did not carry any belligerence nor anger, but merely an authoritative sense of understanding, and though his eyes could not be seen from behind the dark lenses, truly, they must have shone to match the disgust in his statement.

Not waiting to see whether his opponent would obey, the crippled Leon used his gargantuan sword to act as a balance while he turned, and then began to limp away, leaving a scarlet trail in his wake.

The aged Shinigami leapt down the remaining distance between him and the earth, landing with a thud despite his best efforts. Muttering something about old bones, Arihito once again hid the object he had withdrawn from his right side, replacing it instead by his bow once more.

"I'll make you a deal!!!" shouted Arihito after the retreating form of the wounded Ryoka.

Without finishing the old Shinigami fired another arrow, aiming just over the intruder's right shoulder. A warning shot.

"If you turn around and leave the Seireitei and forget any dreams of revenge or grandeur or what ever... the next shot I fire won't be aimed at your heart!!!"

The words were not said mockingly, but merely as a statement of a fact. Arihito was not so boastful of his own abilities to say he would hit his target, but he would try. And Muramatsu did not lie more than he had to...


The Ryoka stopped at this remark, and then burst into a hearty round of laughter. His euphonious chortling reverberated off the many ivory walls encompassing the moderately-sized plaza they had squared off upon, and was followed by the scraping of Seikan against the fragmented tiling...he had turned, and was once again facing his adversary. The aura of complete control had not departed, but was now augmented by an amused smile along his countenance.

"Whatever the hell I saw just a moment ago, you saw it too. Now...because I can see in those eyes of yours a quiet resignation, a soft acknowledgement of your wisdom in the world, I'm going to ask you something, archer-guy: if I could summon up the cojones to not piss myself in front of that thing, what in God's name makes you think I'll be frightened of you?"

Leon brandished the huge Seikan formidably, tilting it in such a manner that the spikes would coruscate in the moonlight that had begun to wash over the Court.

"Look at this blade...Fearless. About four days ago, I defeated two Shinigami by the 13th Division...I wasn't afraid of them, but I fought with them because their pride made it a necessity. I hate fighting for no reason...if I'm not afraid of something, I see little point in challenging it."

He lifted the portentous weapon until its last tip pointed directly at his would-be antagonist.

"Your eyes don't gleam with pride, and if they do, it's only a pansy, negligible spark at their rims, most likely from your position in the ranks rather than because of your actions. You have, both, questioned the world around you and questioned yourself, more times than you can count. You have no pride. You don't frighten me. Point? I have no reason to waste my time fighting you," Leon concluded profoundly.

"So be it." said Arihito simply, saddened, but not surprised. "I do not fight needless battles either, dear Ryoka. But you are exactly that, an intruder in the Court of Pure Souls with unclear intentions. We have been warned that you are dangerous, and as such must take every precaution. How do I know that my leaving you unhampered today will not lead directly to the destruction of the City? I don't, and so you and I will fight, even if you don't wish to, even if you don't fear me, even if you think I have no pride. There is no escaping duty."

Aiming at the heart of the man who refused to fight or retreat, the old Shinigami fired.


This time, there was an obvious sluggishness in his reaction: the giant blade managed to fend off the arrow, but it did not move with the ferocity shown earlier...the loss of blood was beginning to show its effects.

Despite this increasingly apparent weakness, Leon's smile widened into a grin.

"That's funny. You're the first fella who hasn't denounced my feelings of fear as stupid for as long as I can remember. Your experience in the workings of the human heart is interesting...but your false monologue on duty shows its untrue quality even at the start. You may think I have unclear intentions, but I think it's clear that you care little for duty, soldier. What's your name?"

Arihito's hand was on its path towards his quiver when it halted, and slowly went down to his hip. He didn't know why, but he began to speak...

"My name is one that is rarely spoken these days, even when asked. But for reasons that I don't fully understand yet, I shall make some exceptions. I am Arihito Muramatsu of the First Division."

The position where the aged Shinigami had halted was the location where the first arrow had struck home in the knee of the Spaniard. The bottoms of Arihito's bare feet were coated in a layer of blood, but he paid it no mind, his steel eyes watching the warrior before him with rising interest.


The reaction was slightly dynamic: Leon's face first scrunched up in a perturbed manner, and then broke out into another round of chuckling. After a moment of his observing the irony, the Ryoka pointed at his opponent, only this time, with his hand.

"You're Vice Captain of the 1st Division? Does that mean Amagawa Sougen knows that more should be left for those with experience rather than power? With wisdom rather than strength? If so, he must be cooler than they made him out to be" he asked.

"I do not know what Sougen knows. But you're right on several counts. I am not the most powerful Vice-Captain in the Gotei, nor am I even the most powerful direct underling in the elite First Division. But experience is something that can't be given an evaluation, and of it I possess more than even I know of... Is it an asset? A resounding yes. Experience is something that everyone wants, that everyone needs, and wisdom is far more impressive than all the knowledge in the world."

Arihito paused and balled his hand into a fist for a moment, but just as quickly relaxed. The reason behind the glimpse of frustration was invisible, and Arihito continued on as if nothing had happened.

"You. You say I do not fight because it is my duty, nor do I fight for my broken or insulted pride, and as I've certainly demonstrated I do not fight out of absolute necessity. So why do I fight? Why am I still standing before you at all?"


The dark sunglasses, reflecting Ari's figure, scintillated as Leon tilted his chin ever so slightly upwards. His smile was gone, and the collected countenance had reclaimed his features in full.

"...isn't it obvious? You're fighting me so that you can find out why you're fighting."

The Ryoka was distracted by a series of small, rapid convulsions from his leg, but after the fit had subsided, he returned his attention to his foe, and he spun Seikan with an elegant twirl of his wrist.

"Want me to help? I'm more than interested now...because you don't scare me, but you're sense of disconcertion does. Someone with so many years spent reflecting...and yet, still so lost. The thought of it disturbs me," Leon finished with a narrowed brow.

Such an accurate dissertation... who is he?

"Yes, my path has always been shrouded in gray. I have no family, few friends, and the protection of Soul Society only ignites a small spark of vigor in my heart. I don't know why I fight, but every time I do, I hope that in some way my path will be illuminated. What I seek is knowledge, not of worldly things, but of myself. And so, despite your generous offer, I must ask you once more. Please turn around and leave the Seireitei, forget you ever came here."

His eyes flickered with emotion during his speech, but had regained their metallic sheen as he uttered his last words.


Leon gazed at his opponent from behind the shades with a keen light...and then, ever so slightly, the hand gripping Seikan could be seen trembling.

"...like a lone man treading through marshes, or the sole explorer in the arid desert...I can't seem to understand the will that's kept you strung together, Arihito. A dread fills me at the thought of facing the world as you have...I don't know if I could."

The sound of silver biting the wind, and the gargantuan zanpakutou fell into a menacing angle.

"Frankly, it's frightening."

The Ryoka lifted his reiatsu directly to his maximum, knowing full well that it still was just over half as strong as his opponent given the loss of blood, but no longer caring.

"So I say take that offer and shove it up your ***, Vice Captain of the 1st Division...because I already decided a long time ago that I wouldn't flee from my fears."

Slowly, deliberately, Arihito replaced the Ushin Enpa in its place on his back. The time for ranged battle and hampering his foe was over. Truly, the old man felt regret at having wounded the Spaniard in such a way, but it had been his plan all along. To catch the Ryoka unawares and hopefully subdue him with little resistance. Arihito saw now that that would never happen.

"If I may ask," began Arihito, raising his reiatsu to match his foe's easily, "What is your name?"

While waiting for the answer his hand went to his right side, retrieving the beautiful silver war axe from its place. The rose colored wrappings felt soft on Arihito's calloused hands, and an inaudible grunt escaped him as he brought the Renjin Enkatsu up to his shoulder.


"Leon Valiente Simeon," the Ryoka replied coolly, as if it were a trivial issue, before pointing the coruscating Seikan at his opponent's own weapon, and adding, "Now, judging from your large reiatsu, I'd say you have the precursor Bankai. Release it. Don't hide it like a secret weapon either...the strength it unleashes is a necessity in this battle."

Big words, coming from someone with measly reiatsu compared to his opponent's, but then again, it most likely had been clear to Arihito Muramatsu all along that Leon possessed a great deal more power than he currently displayed.

Nodding as if he understood Leon's words perfectly, the bare-footed man slowly began to step backwards, his left hand drawing the shamshir-like blade at his side. His face was smooth and featureless except for the smallest beginnings of a smile as he uttered the simple words.

"Ban Kai."

At first there was nothing except an explosion of reiatsu from the old man, but the very earth around the combatants began to quake. A dull hum rapidly grew to a deafening roar before the tiles beneath the warrior's feet bore their fruit. Massive trees began to emerge, as far as 200 feet away from Arihito, all spreading their limbs and stretching ever skyward. Moments later, all was quiet as the growth of the forest peaked, only the quiet rustle of undergrowth providing the music for battle. The old shinigami had disappeared in his own forest as it had first emerged, using the darkness and cover the trees provided to begin his stalk of his quarry.

"This. This is my Bankai." shouted Arihito from the depths of darkness, his voice echoing through the forest, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. "Be mindful not to touch anything, the undergrowth and moss contain an annoying poison, and we wouldn't want you to be affected. This isn't that kind of fight."

There was no sarcasm in the Shinigami's voice, he really meant what he said. As if on cue, the canopy above parted, sending a single beam of light downwards to illuminate the Ryoka, but as for the axe-wielding warrior, there was no sign.


It was just as well, however...Leon didn't move from his position, because he didn't want to run the risk of damaging his leg any more than it already had. Instead, he mused over the artificial environment that sprouted around him.

"Is this appropriate or what? You have some issues dealing with the things you've seen, and you also have a Bankai that lets you hide from the world. And now you're telling me that you don't want a battle where I may be poisoned? After striking me with an arrow after I was distracted by that creature? You change your mind too much, Ari...I'd call you a flip-flopper, but that's a label for politicians, not warriors. Think you can show me you have more edge than one of those bureaucratic *******s, and stick on one side of the fence?" the Ryoka called out to the lush vegetation.

Unabated laughter filled the darkness in response.

"I didn't know who you were when I struck you," he called, still laughing, "I thought you would've tried to run, or fight me with the bloodlust of a berserker. And I couldn't very well have that, could I? For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Silence filled the darkness once more.

From out of the dim lighting to the right of the Spaniard, the Renjin Enkatsu appeared, it's shape blurred and appearing to be a solid disc to human eyes. The thrown axe raced towards the Ryoka, the hum of its flight fighting the deafening silence of Arihito's forest.


He throws his zanpakutou faster than he shoots those arrows, if that makes any sense...

The Vice-Captain's aim was true: there were no viable evasion options, due to the speed of his foe's projectile, and blocking it was nearly out of the question since a hurled zanpakutou never is hurled without good reason...the Ryoka had no desire to bear any side-effects.

Grinding his teeth together, Leon pressed his weight down on the injured knee...snapping it in full, and causing himself to hit the dirt just before the axe flew overhead. Not pausing for the excruciating amount of pain that was coursing through his body (he assured himself that he had felt far worse during his training), the Ryoka compressed a good deal of his vitality into an incantation bypass, intending to scorch up the area where his adversary's weapon had been thrown from.

"Bakudou 55, Diamond Dust."

Instantaneously, the atmosphere surrounding the target area froze over, and Leon began to drag himself over towards the icy foliage, chanting another spell that would put him at his limit under his breath.

As soon as Arihito had set the axe in his hand on the path of its whirling attack towards the foe, he had left his redwood perch in a quick shyunpo of 30 steps knowing full well he had revealed his own position. Despite his quickness in finding a new hiding place, this time behind a particularly handsome Douglas fir, he had underestimated the speed and ferocity of Leon's counterattack. His new hiding place had been just on the edge of the area affected by the chilling kidou, and now he could hardly feel the right side of his body at all. But he was free, and warmth would return, albeit with time.

If at first you don't succeed... thought the old man to himself as the Renjin Enkatsu returned to his right hand. Stepping out of cover he hurled the axe once more, raising his other axe, his zanpakutou in both hands as he followed up the attack with a charge.

The gears in Muramatsu's head turned, and he quickly made up his plan of attack after the charge...


This axe, thankfully, flew far overhead: Leon's first evasion had not been seen by his opponent, and consequently, Ari was still throwing the Renjin Enkatsus at the normal height level.

The moment the Ryoka lumbered through the vegetation into plain sight of his half-frosted antagonist, however, it became clear what had happened. He had snuck around so that he came out of the trees on Ari's thawing side, and so it was that he heaves the enormous Seikan at his opponent from nearly point blank range with the intention of at least slightly skewering the worthy opponent on the end of the formidable zanpakutou.

Charging forward Arhito realized that, to his chagrin, his foe was not where he had been. Listening with his acute senses, he heard rather than saw the crippled Leon sneaking around to his side, but the great hearing Arihito's Bankai provided him was hardly needed to pick up the shuffle of his foe.

Taking Kaketsukeruin his right hand, his frozen arm, Arihito turned to meet the attack his foe was putting forth. The parry was clumsy, but the skewer was still knocked aside. Even as Arihito defended, however, the magical axe of Renjin Enkatsu reappeared once more in his left hand, of his good arm. While the crash between the behemoth blade and Arihito's zanpakutou still reverberated, the throwing axe was sent on its path towards the center of Leon's frame...


...where it plunged directly into the awkwardly diving Ryoka's chest cage, eliciting a crimson carnation to bloom forth from Leon's pectorals and promptly shed its many petals upon the forest floor.

Although he immediately fell to his good knee, sputtering more of the red rose's blossoms out of his facial orifices, the immediate purpose was easily seen: he had never attempted to dive with the intention of dodging the blow, for his left hand now was clasped on the scintillating Kaketsukeru and his right held his foe's spare elbow.

Astonishingly, the Ryoka's scarlet mouth was twisting in the same, calm smile he had been displaying from the get-go.

"That's more like it...Bougyoudo 11, Yobiyoseru."

With frightening speed, the enormous blade tore itself free of its wooden prison and raced at breakneck speeds towards its master...who had conveniently placed his enemy in the direct path of the summoned zanpakutou.

As Leon uttered the words of his kidou Arihito heard the cracking of timber as the huge blade freed itself from the tree to the rear. Thinking quickly, Arihito engaged the plan he had intended to do on his last strike with the Renjin Enkatsu and that was to, simply put, switch places. Feeling the energy seep out of him into the blade, the two warriors instantaneously reversed positions. The magical axe returned to Ari's right hand, but was promptly dropped as he needed his hand to be free. Because he had also already begun chanting a kidou spell in the event that the reversal of positions had not gone exactly as planned.

"Chiyudo #26, Hanshakyou!" shouted Arihito. The bluish shield erected itself behind the Spaniard, protecting the two combatants from certain impalement.

The Ryoka's steel crashed against the shield with a bang, but the shield held. Not waiting for the Ryoka to think of another idea the old man struggled against the grip placed on Kaketsukeru while reversing the grip placed on elbow, holding the Ryoka's elbow in its stead. After getting the grip, the head of the bearded man shot forward in a vicious head butt aimed at the bridge of his foe's nose.


Well ****...I didn't think he could make that axe just reappear in his hand like that...I guess he won't see my counter in time to understand anyway...

The Vice Captain's attack ferocity was dealt a sore retaliation: instead of crashing into Leon's exposed skull, its path was immediately intercepted by a large, hovering chunk of sharpened steel, pointed so that he would inevitably smash his forehead directly into its point.

Not bothering to waste anymore sentimentalities, the Ryoka used the last threads tying his fingers to the deflected Seikan and tugged the behemoth blade back towards his foe's back.

Staggering backwards, Arihito was rendered nearly blind. The metal...whatever it was, had impaled his forehead before he could stop and, though Arihito did not know this, the sharp metal had nearly pierced his cranium, ending his life there and then.

But he was still alive, blinded with pain and blood, fumbling around like a chicken with its head cut off. Falling to his knees on the earth he fumbled around for his magical axe, Kaketsukeru having been left in the grip of the Ryoka. Finding it, he searched for the blurred outline of the Ryoka's shape and brought back his arm to let the imbued axe fly, hopefully buying himself some time to recover and to use the final attack of his Ban Kai...


And down, down came the executioner's guillotine, casting a foreboding shadow upon the Vice Captain as it lashed towards his lower back.

Arihito stood there for a moment, blood dripping from the open wound on his head, painting his braided beard a sickly crimson. Falling to his knees he looked up at the Ryoka, seeing his own reflection in his sunglasses. Coughing up blood he knelt there, not dead, but not capable of continuing the fight in any way shape or manner.

His mouth opened and closed several times as if he had something to say, but couldn't quite find the words to say it. And so Arihito knelt in silence, his lifeblood slowly ebbing away.


His opponent too, knelt, so that the two men were almost at eye level...both had taken hits to their vital organs, but it was the Ryoka who had almost no reiatsu left, and surely would die within the next few minutes.

"You...see so much...no one...who sees so much...should ever...have to walk...blind," Leon sputtered between gasps, before promptly collapsing. His head smashed against the dry shrubbery dotting the fading Bankai, and, with his eyelids beginning to tremble and his leg going into violent convulsions, he used the strength in his index finger to gently pull the hilt of his sword closer.

Still latched into the Vice Captain of the 1st, Seikan groaned as its pommel fell just within reach of the dying warrior. Rubbing the end of his blood-crusted fingernail against its sheen produced a soft hum that resonated euphoniously through the air, quickly followed by a solemn intake of breath.

"Let me...show you...how to...use your eyes."

A pulsating thump, throbbing tumultuously in the quiet of the decaying forest...it was as if a strong thunder had pierced the silent eyes of Death, and averted them away for another day. The air became brimming with brilliant incandescence, emanating from Leon's wrists, which had been enshrouded in light blue rings. These halos of iridescence gradually expanded like a fragile bubble, until fractures in their surface could be discerned, accompanied by a crackling noise that reverberated off the titanic tree trunks surrounding them.

As the light began to broil forth from the cuffs, it washed over the dying Ryoka, and as his scarred flesh bathed in its radiance, his wounds began to retract, and, ultimately, cease to exist. Beams began to sporadically rain outwards, illuminating their nearly motionless forms, and occasionally lighting his face such that one could see the cool determination burning in his eyes beneath the black lenses. Steadily, a grumbling began to grow in his throat, one that exponentially rose into a powerful roar.

At the zenith of his passionate cry, the bands encircling his wrists snapped, turning into miniscule discus that shot in all directions, perforating a few tree limbs, but mostly rocketing up towards the firmament.

Two rejuvenated fingers slid their way up from the pommel of the humongous zanpaku to its handle, and with a great sweep of ardent silver, the resuscitated Leon Valiente Simeon hoisted Seikan over his shoulder, once again taking care to not drive one of the spikes running its backside into his own flesh. He stood tall and resolute over his enemy, and then scuffled about in his pocket, before producing a small capsule.

Nonchalantly, he tossed the pill so that it rolled to a halt at Ari's knees.

"Yeah...I'll show you. Like I said earlier, I can't stand the idea of someone like you being so lost, Arihito Muramatsu. If you, a fellow who sees so much around him, can be so **** unsure of your morality, then I fear for what could happen to me. Take that pill...we each only received one, but I'd say the full revitalization I just had does more than enough in comparison. You won't get your Reiatsu back, but your injuries will be healed sufficiently, and we can continue this battle. I have to see if someone can save themselves. Besides..."

The Ryoka let a blistering burst of his new reiatsu flood forth, revealing a Vice-Captain level of strength.

"...I don't like ending anything in a draw."

Eating the proffered pill Arihito felt his wounds close and heal, warmth returning to his right side, and the vigor returning to his soul. Before returning to his full height the old man retrieved the two axes which lay at his feet, twirling both as he rose.

"Dear Ryoka," began Arihito, his voice burning with new vigor, "I have no words to describe this. Show me."

Casting aside the Renjin Enkatsu, the large blade of Kaketsukeru found itself gripped in both of Arihito's quivering hands. Slowly, he began to back away, and as he did so the very forest around the two warriors began to shift. Around the two a tunnel was formed...a dark, foreboding tunnel. Stopped at one end, some fifty feet away, Arihito smiled.

"Show me how to see... Sonarematsu."

A mighty swing from his zanpakutou expelled a blue wave of energy racing towards the foe, picking up debris on its path. The eerie blue light from the advancing wave illuminated the Shinigami's visage, and every wrinkle, every line, every scar was clear. The old man had swung with every last ounce of strength he had, but the small smile refused to give way...


...as did the ever collected, ever calm Leon, who had not wasted a single moment in dashing towards the approaching zangeki.

The bodies of spiritual power collided when the Ryoka cleaved his massive sword in a simple, rudimentary slash down into the wave of energy, interlocking the two in a furious struggle for dominance. Though he was initially pushed back several feet on the impact (there was a meter long trail of upturned bedrock left in his wake), Leon gradually began to exert greater and greater amounts of force on the blast, and as discharges of white light and ripples of blue began to dance and weave through the air, his voice reverberated over the shrill howling of the clashing impetuses.

"See?! Your mentality scares the **** out of me, but I still charge you head on. There is no other way to go than straight. Haven't you been getting too caught up in admiring the view on your sides? Haven't you been getting distracted by the alternative pathways? Just ****ing push those out of your mind, because if you keep trying to take a different road, you'll end up at a different destination," he called out, and the final word culminated into a triumphant kiai as he cut through the wave, sending the split schisms in opposite directions. The sudden freedom of movement caused the warrior to bury his zanpakutou into the soil in front of him, but he quickly and easily removed it before pointing it at Arihito.

"Can you do that? Can you focus on what's in front of you? If you can, I have nothing to fear from your lost potential."

"Focus," said Arihito, "I read a quote in one of my readings that I think applies, 'When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before.' I've lived an eventful life, but I fear that the only thing that keeps me going from day to day is the very weakness you speak of. Every day I wake up and decide what I will do on that day. There is no pattern. What I did the day before lends no weight to my decision in the slightest. I weigh the options, and choose. Do I lack focus? Yes. Is it a downfall of mine? A resounding yes. And yet would I have it any other way? The things I've seen and experienced... the lives I've led in my years. But you, you've convinced me. I will focus, and I shall focus on walking to the other side of this tunnel. Now it just so happens you are in the middle of my path, but it is my path, so I must push, no?"

A chuckle escaped him before he once more hefted his battle-axe and began to walk, quicker and quicker in a straight line towards his foe.


"Ahh..."

Seikan twirled back into a preparatory position by his side, beginning to glimmer with a darker blue aura.

"...so you are capable of commitment? Good...now I won't have to think of you like one of those loser friends of mine who can't stick with women in relationships," Leon answered with a grin of his own, and then dashed forward, already swinging the formidable sword towards his opponent's own.

There was no doubt: this would be the decisive blow between the two, and whose sword broke would determine the victor.

A grunt escaped the lips of Arihito as his own mighty retaliation met the Ryoka's devastating cut head-to-head. The moment in time seemed suspended as the blades crashed, but as if in slow-motion Arihito watched his own blade shatter under the sheer duress.

"And so it ends," he stated with a tone of finality as the fragments of his shattered blade littered the battlefield, and the forest around the two combatants began to fade into nothingness.

Dropping the haft of his axe Arihito stood defenseless.

"And so ends my commitment. I would push forward, but I can see it in your eyes that you have no wish to execute me."


"Yes well..."

The Ryoka's gargantuan sword slowly shrunk until it had regained the elegant, streamlined frame of a tachi again, and subsequently following a flurry of swordplay, Leon glided Seikan back into its scabbard before promptly readjusting his sunglasses.

"...there isn't any reason for me to want to kill something I'm not frightened of," he said with a grin, before performing a graceful back flip to an upper tier on the damaged plaza, which had been crushed to rubble in various sections.

He glanced to the north, where his gaze was greeted with a warm zephyr that tugged to and fro at his short bangs. After a moment of contemplation, he returned his eyes to the Vice Captain.

"When you make the report, don't forget to tell them how ****ing big my sword is. Especially if they're ladies there...let them know that I have a bigass package down below too. And...tell that thing...whatever the heck it was...it can fight me whenever," he called, offering a friendly salute before beginning to bound in the direction of the 5th Division, a miniscule speck in the night horizon.

Shaking his head Arihito couldn't help but smile.

"I'll be sure to tell them, Leon. You'll have women after you in droves, I'm sure."

Muttering to himself, Muramatsu turned and walked away, not knowing where he was going, but wondering how in the name off all that is good and holy he would explain what had just transpired. It wouldn't be easy...

Walking away the signs there had been a battle were clear and evident. The white earth was pockmarked with holes and tears, and stained with blood in certain places. It looked as though a war had been waged in that confined location, which was in fact not far from the truth. The sun had truly set now, and the lone Shinigami walked in near darkness, humming a song about a girl he used to know...


[6,256]

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Arihito Muramatsu has received 1 Feat Slot.
 

Ryoka Leon

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I'm starting to get sick of this place.

It had been seven days...the Ryoka had settled near the 5th Division, which was a precarious decision in itself, given that with his first seal removed, his spiritual pressure was slightly more noticeable. It was because of this, however, that he currently rested in the shadow of the Kidou-based Division's headquarters: the large amount of reiatsu given off by Yukiko Murray and her Vice Captain Hiana Maisaku helped to throw a blanket over the area, and Leon was doing his best to let his signature mingle with this static ambiance.

He was beginning to grow weary of his stay in the court, given that he had to perform actions like these in order to effectively erase any trace of his existence...it was tiresome, and he wished that they could've entered through the North Entrance...but that would've meant...

The sunglasses tilted up, reflecting the early afternoon sun as his thoughts turned to the others. They had each been given a specific objective together with their central one, and he was just unfortunate enough to be the one who had to cross the whole of Seireitei. The others could theoretically head to the 11th and 8th Divisions if they wanted, or the Senzaikyuu-Sou Kyouko area. He didn't know if they would, though...if they were being distracted by battles, they may all be prone to simply try and make their way towards Amagawa Sougen.

Amagawa Sougen...Captain of the 1st Division...

His flow of musings fell on the Division that he had continued to see so much of in the past few days...initially, following his encounter with Arihito, the number of troops seemed to have dropped, but was swelling again. Perhaps the Vice-Captain had given him a grace period? He didn't know, nor care...although Ari had been strong, the real cake was the 3rd seat and the Captain himself, and Leon knew that they were both battles in his opponents' favor.

"Here, let me explain...don't worry, I'll take measure to elaborate as if you were a dilapidated infant: Amagawa, you've already garnered enough intelligence in relation to his strength...the 3rd Seat of that Division is formidable in himself, however, and you must take precaution to treat him as you would a Vice-Captain. That's not to suggest that the Vice Captain of the 1st is a pushover...quite the opposite, really...but the 3rd Seat does possess more strength than the Vice-Captain, and a far greater record of experience. Elucidating further is of no benefit...you will not understand until you've met him."

The Black Masked Vizard's voice elicited a small frown and twitching eyebrow from the Ryoka, but he contemplated over the matter quietly.

That means that, at most, if everyone is in the correct positions, there are four people who can pose a serious threat to me: Captain of the 5th, Yukiko Murray, who I hope to leave in the dust soon, Captain of the 3rd, Sayuri Chikako, who hopefully is too busy dealing with the duties of Captainship and Head Medical Officer to locate me, and then, of course, the Big Enchilada and his *****, Shouyuu Whatshisface. I'll have to be prepared for any of them, but not lose sight of a possible alternate opponent appearing. By proceeding further, I'll need to move slower, so as to prevent any stupid mistakes that'll make me feel like a retard later.

Leon rose from his corner in the shadows, and once again began to make way through the crowded plaza surrounding the 5th Division's H.Q., before promptly entering a new series of alleyways and continuing his journey towards 3rd Division...the pallid hospital that stood some three days away on the horizon.
 

Kishyotai

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There seemed to be a poem elicited from the man's eyes as he looked outwards onto Seireitei's bountiful white, the Senzaikyuu sparkling in the corner of his eye. He hadn't moved from this spot in hours, standing motionless on top of the 1st Division's headquarters as the resident lighthouse for Muramatsu Arihito, his reiatsu senses on the highest alert for the Vice Captain's safe return.

It had first been his self-assigned duty when he felt the pounding waves of reiatsu from the Vice Captain, and then seen patches of green life within the horizon of the city's unstained visage. There had been a great groaning in the minutes that followed, and then the decaying hand of Death itself had destroyed the forest, Muramatsu-fukutaichou's reiatsu dwindling in the same effect.

It hadn't been hard to put two and two together, but for the man who required no sleep to live, and nothing but a sword to stand, he had attained himself a duty worth keeping. Standing on the tops of his home, of what he would protect, he would become an invisible lighthouse to locate his superior, and within the smallest instants of noticing the aged man's frame, he would bring him back to Sougen.

It was pointless to explain what would happen if the living library of experience didn't return; it was the same thing that would happen if he did return; albeit the first would have a far greater intent to strike wounds than if the Vice Captain was safe.

'Why do you even care about the Vice-Captain so much?' he had been asked as he explained his duty to one of the attendants, letting them know he'd be unavailable until the Vice Captain returned, 'Have you ever even met him alone? I heard he's a real old guy, who thinks too much.'

Yasougin had only smiled. He hadn't given the boy a viable response; the question didn't need one. The shinigami were not a race that could survive independently, and though other shinigami felt a bond within the duties performed with each other, anyone within the Gotei was given an open door to Yasougin's brotherly affection. The Vice Captain had never graced Yasougin with any good memories yet, but that didn't stop Yasougin from projecting his absolute fealty from Sougen into affection for his Vice Captain.

This was the devotion with which Yasougin was being regarded with; something that he was quickly being identified with. Stupid loyal fealty, something that others simply couldn't understand, couldn't identiy. Truthfully, they all second-guessed him, still reserving their judgement on the newly-appointed Commander Captain.

But Yasougin knew something about Sougen. He didn't know what it was, couldn't put his finger directly on it, but as he stood on the roof of the 1st Division, he trusted this blind loyalty. He trusted it to the ends of the earth, to the fringes of Rukongai, and straight into the heart of the Senzaikyuu.

He found himself slightly troubled at the sense of how things were going, something that stayed beneath the folding layers of his Tenkoujin. With the same noble's haori that he wore, the one white cylinder tucked behind his right ear, Shouyuu Yasougin looked downwards at the roof of the 1st Division Taisho.

You were destroyed already. If I can help it...Shinkou's legacy of self-sacrifice will end here. Sougen does not need to be bothered with such things. So... He left one glance over his shoulder, where Sougen's office was, ...I'll be finding Muramatsu.

There was no pause as Yasougin blinked out of existence, his speed barely scratching what he was capable of but still something impressive. The amber eyes looked for something - anything - that his reiatsu senses would miss. Sword hand comfortably on the hilt of Seizakoku, Yasougin couldn't know he was rushing head-first into someone who himself was nothing more than the matador's plaything.
 

Ryoka Leon

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He was startled to discover that such a large area could be so vacant: the piazza resembled the pictures he had seen of the Senzaikyuu, save a great, crystal clear lake running the length of the eastern border. It appeared to be a recreation area for the 3rd Division and 5th Division, given that it was directly in between the two. The Ryoka found this explanation most satisfactory, since it would explain why such a bigass chunk of the Court would be completely unoccupied.

He had jogged about a quarter of the way through when he detected shifting fluctuations across the "Spiritual Shroud" that he had been attempting to hide under for the past several hours: one of the "corners" was rapidly approaching...so rapidly, in fact, as to startle Leon to the point of second-guessing his senses.

What?! This thing is covering a shitload of ground in a short period of time...and it's headed towards the spot where Ari and I fought.

Grimacing, he shot a glance back the way he came, fired another in the direction of the still rather distant 3rd Division, and then returned his focus directly in front of him.

The two Captains are still in their headquarters...whoever this signature belongs to, they belong to 1st Division, which means, it's either Amagawa Sougen, or the 3rd seat.

The Ryoka, instead of finding somewhere to hide, merely stopped jogging and watched the entrance at the opposite end of the plaza, several hundred meters away: it wouldn't matter who his opponent was, because...

The hand at his side was twitching involuntarily, and it glistened in the sunlight with the beginnings of a cold sweat.

Leon raised the shaking hand to his face, partly to push back up his sunglasses, partly as an attempt to stop the trembling, and when his hand dropped back down, his countenance bore a large grin.

This reiatsu...scares me.

And so he stood, awaiting his approaching adversary for what was quickly becoming an inevitable clash.
 

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He found himself at a quandary as the boy stood at the zenith of yet another roof. Keeping to the rooftops would be the most expedient way of retrieving the Vice Captain, but if there were a Ryoka it would be possible that the skillful intruders would simply slip under his feet. At the same time, he couldn't look for Ryoka by simply running through every path in Seireitei...

He wouldn't be the Ichibantai Fukutaichou if he couldn't take care of himself; but the way his Ban Kai energy had collapsed was worrisome. I can't tell if he's alive with a restrained kai, if he had lost and was now bleeding, or somewhere in between. Regardless, the thing that is almost as prevalent as the Vice Captain is the Ryoka he was fighting. Yasougin's auburn eyes glimmered for a brief moment, I haven't had any contact with any of the Ryoka, but incoming reports to the Soutaichou have given me the barest details concerning them. Jericho Downes, Kaizu Takeshi, Yamazaki Akira, the new Kidoushuu Hanchou, all of these people engaged the Ryoka. Do they all still wal-

According to my information, the organization they hail from has placed a special self-destruction device within the core of their hakusui (without their knowing) as a means to preventing their volatile souls from turning against them. In the event that you do meet them, I ask that you immediately pronounce the sentiment, "Dum Vita Est, Spes Est". This mantra will activate the bomb within their core, and subsequently obliterate them.

The letter flashed in Yasougin's mind as he pondered the situation, his mind withdrawing to his memory of the Captains' Meeting he had thankfully been privy to.

In addition, killing them in any manner besides the self-destruction command can potentially end the same way as the above scenario, what with the fiery holocaust incinerating the Court of Pure Souls, given that I haven't been able to conclude just how quickly their explosive energies are rising. Once it passes a certain level, there will be no hope for salvation other than the above statement.

I haven't seen any explosions yet; and there wasn't anything but Muramatsu's energy and that other Ryoka's energy that I could sense within that bout. There wasn't a flash of light; nothing but Muramatsu's collapsing Ban Kai, which means that... "The Ryoka are still out there. All four of them. And with that in mind..."

Yasougin stopped at the edge of a roof, anyone else would have found themselves careening over the scale-like shingles to their death at the floor below. The third seat, however, possessed an eerie peace about him as he completely negated any of his momentum with the sure feet of a warrior.

He paused for the slightest moment before he kept his eyes to the south, Their target is Sougen-dono, as the Soutaichou. Sougen said that they were going after him, but that in fact Zeitgeist is attempting to have Sougen say that phrase. What was it? 'Dum Vita Est, Spes Est'. They said that someone of high reiatsu and with no Hollow aspect...

Yasougin paused for a moment, "If I were stronger than...I would be able to test out the effects of the saying on the Ryoka. Considering my situation's likeness to Sougen's, it wouldn't be that bad if Zeitgeist was secretly attempting to annihilate Seireitei and only I was killed. Soutaichou isn't just a mere title...but 3rd Seats can be found."

He paused, not finding horror within the self-sacrifice that he deemed befitting of a follow of Bushido, but instead the fact that he had no idea what the Ryoka were like other than basic likenesses. Basic shihakushou for the shinigami ones, he had been told, while the two humans seemed to have their own style.

They'll be attempting to keep to the shadows of reiatsu to hide themselves; Chikako-Taichou and Murray-taichou are both strong. It would make sense for him to round about that way. He must be exhausted...I need to find him quickly before he can rejuvenate.

And he was off to the 3rd Division.

It wasn't long before the 3rd Seat found himself at the 3rd Division's headquarters; indeed as a corner of Leon's screen he was quickly casting a smaller and smaller web for the Ryoka to be in. Of course, he was totally oblivious to the impending doom he seemed to represent towards the Ryoka; a situation befitting the complacent manner of the 3rd Seat. But as he rounded towards the location of the Ryoka, he found himself inexplicabl-

He stopped.

"...I feel..." he paused for a moment, "I feel war."

And so, at one side of the gargantuan lake that connected the eastern Division Taishos, Shouyuu Yasougin paused for a moment. Norikou Gakushi Mitsu found itself loosely held by the warrior's firm hands as he bristled.

"...I feel war." he confirmed to the area around him, his eyes narrowing, "...and I feel something slightly alienated."

First level of Ban Kai...perhaps? The reiatsu's well concealed in the net. But it's also not a Gotei signature, it's got a bit more of a brash and reckless power to it. As if it's sure of what's going to happen. No...this reiatsu's to well hidden for a Gotei shinigami. Yasougin smiled, But it's nicely displaced; I can't quite get a location on it. So I'll just...

He blinked, suddenly across the lake as Yasougin appeared at the edge of the skillfully camouflaged reiatsu, Norikou Gakushi Mitsu at the ready. And with his left hand on the saya of Sougen's legacy, Yasougin took a step forward.

"Guess I won't need this anymore." the man lobbed away one of the items he had procured from the storage; a small necklace that allowed one to hone reiatsu senses. But with that came the annoying effect that his reiatsu became tangible. And now, with his reiatsu simply disappearing, the net closed ever tighter on his opponent.

"...oh ho."
 

Ryoka Leon

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The ordained opponent materialized about a football field's span away from the Ryoka, who had apparently found the need to sit in a cross-legged position rather than stand in his wait for the formidable 3rd seat's arrival. The inside of his elbows pressed against his knees, and he let his hands dangle in front of himself, resembling a praying Buddha lost in meditation.

With the ancient warrior beginning to look in the immediate surroundings for the no longer hidden intruder, Leon opened his eyes and set the sunglasses' dark reflection on his destined foe just as the 1st Division member managed to locate him visually.

Two pairs of irises locked, each piercing the other despite the black veil and the expanse separating them.

The effect was instantaneous: as if lightning had leapt down from the heavens to mark the very spot, a large crack tore forth from both warriors, meeting in the middle and sending a temporary expulsion of dust and pallid fragments into the air. Even as the fumes dissipated, however, their eyes remained on each other, and they could not be more vastly different...the 3rd seat's sharp, coruscating amber, brimming with the light of one who knows, and the Ryoka's dark, cool brown, brimming with the light of one who yearns. The repercussions of their glares appeared to heat the atmosphere between them, causing undulating waves of bent light to cascade back and forth across the piazza, and generated rippling crests along the lake's previously pristine surface.

Then the pervading aura was gone, and both novas had faded to mere embers...the 1st Division member's reiatsu was completely erased, and Leon was only emitting the power of a lower Vice-Captain. In the wake of the two's rather inefficient attempts to hide their true strength, the blistering turbulence that had manifested now subsided, and a quiet settled upon the plaza that was only broken arbitrarily by gusts of wind and the splashing of the nearby lake's waters against its pale bank.

A profound timbre, not bothering to hide the trepidation its owner was experiencing, but simultaneously suggesting an unbreakable composure that dominated his anxiety, reached across the white tiling, the bridge between fated adversaries.

"Shouyuu Something, right?" he asked.
 

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"Shouyuu Yasougin, though I suppose a 'Yasougin' is indeed a 'something'." Yasougin spoke as if he were politely correcting a child who had mispronounced someone's name, with a careless breeze about him as the sight of mere moments before imprinted itself into his mind.

The rising tempest of energy that Leon had witnessed hadn't passed by the content 3rd seat without notice; in fact, it seemed that Yasougin was more attuned to the crackling tension between the two than his traveling counterpart. There was the briefest roaring of thunder, the barest of roars, the most incredible feeling of clashing before it faded into the nothingness of apathy. Yasougin's erased reiatsu and the boy's reiatsu, which...

The reports from the first bout all said that they were about half of a Vice Captains' strength. But he's now at the lower Vice Captain mark...now that I'm in front of him, it's rather easy to figure it out. Which means he...almost doubled his strength? No, that's impossible. You can't grow two times as powerful in a fight. You can't just double your strength unless...

Yasougin blinked as clarity regained its foothold within his mind. Of course; they wouldn't invade Seireitei if they were simply half the strength of a Vice Captain, "You can't just increase that much strength unless you always had the strength to increase, but simply somehow withheld it perfectly. A hostile seal, perhaps, or an incredible talent for reiatsu suppression. Either way..."

The amber eyes ran over the physique of his opponent, the man who yearned, and he found nothing of particular interest. There was no distinguishing mark the man bore except the superficial item of his sunglasses. Of course, his Zanpakutou was interesting, but it was more sacred than it was interesting. As with all Zanpakutou, the elevated spirits within the sword demanded more reverence than attention; especially coming from a man with an entire populace itself as a Zanpakutou avatar.

"Either way, with your current level of power, even if you double it again, you won't be at my level yet." Yasougin said with a smile, "Not that it really matters what your reiatsu level is now, if you can wield your Zanpakutou worth something. I didn't memorize the reports, so I can't put a name to a report like others might be able to. I never did like reports, really, but something about this entire situation grabs my attention. Perhaps the fact you're attempting to kill my own Commander, but that's a moral question and I'm sure you've had enough of those by now."

The odd conversation tone that Yasougin ended his monologue with seemed to present the boy's odd confidence in its full to the Ryoka. He didn't worry about the Ryoka in front of him; not out of a lack of respect, not even the boy's now-pitiful reiatsu, but instead that Seizakoku wasn't able to slumber in its sleep.

So even Shinpa wants this to be over with. Yare yare...how can I capture this Ryoka with such an anxious Zanpakutou avatar? Yaosugin tilted his head for a moment. With the question asked, there was a pallid trepidation that lurked beneath the shaking tone that the boy had given out. Was he...scared? There were two completely different edges of the spectrum encased in one voice, unlike Yasougin's monologue cheeriness, and Yasougin almost found himself confused before he smiled.

Yearning.

"I have one, possibly two questions. The number of questions I have for you depends on your previous actions, really. That, and how quickly you attack, I suppose." Yasougin smiled, "Since even you know that I'm not going to let you pass without drawn swords."

There was an odd silence as Yasougin did nothing but smile, but his left hand was released from the saya at his side and hovered at the pommel of Seizakoku, the Zanpakutou almost leaping outwards, the feeble seals on its power barely holding the sword's soul at bay. But the hand continued and hung above, but perfectly between, Norikou Gakushi Mitsu and Seizakoku. And in there laid Leon's choice.

His smile suddenly become slightly contorted, one of the haunting smiles that makes one think of suffocation. Suffocation, with scaly snakes curling around one's neck and collapsing their windpipe. With this smile, so temporarily full of malice and death, the reiatsu around him gave one hostile, yet vainly invisible, pulse as he asked the question marinated in death, yet simply the same. And this question, so decorated with an insanely calm face, the most contortedly normal of smiles, could only be detected in the rising hurricane of emotions that tangibly dripped from Yasougin's heavy voice.

"Did you kill Muramatsu Arihito, Vice-Captain of the First?"
 

Ryoka Leon

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The Ryoka was an excellent observer, and so it was that he had become rather confused by the time Shouyuu Yasougin had asked his question: the 3rd seat had kept an air of genuine cheerfulness about him...the sanguine did not hide the resolution to bring the intruder down at all costs, because the 1st Division member was happy by the very thought of it. With the concluding question, however, the Spaniard found an unusual montage of emotions that he hadn't believed to exist in his would-be antagonist...it was a large contradiction to the persona he appeared best at exhibiting.

Still seated, Leon's head tilted ever so slightly downward, and the gloved right hand that hung off his leg was clenched tightly to prevent anymore shaking. When he spoke, it was in the same timbre, though the fear seemed now to be mingling with a suppressed excitement, which, like the terror, could not overcome the calm attitude he was displaying.

"You're talking like I accepted the inevitability of you catching me, Shouyuu Yasougin. That's not the case...I was waiting for you. I don't have any intention of moving forward without getting to fight you," he responded, clearly ignoring the previous question...he was interested in seeing if the 3rd seat was showing a truly authentic content about him, or if it was just an act to cast over his emotions.
 

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Yasougin's hand hovered over Seizakoku and Norikou Gakushi Mitsu, pausing and stalling for time just as well as the Ryoka had so obviously done. Talking as if words were nothing, the Ryoka before him seemed almost intruiged by Yasougin's sudden maelstrom of emotions. Of course, it was understandable, and the better one knew Yasougin the more confused they would be by this outset of emotion.

He did feel a small amount of relief, though, with the man's actions. Of course, he didn't answer the question; but that in itself showed that he probably wasn't a blind murderer just coming to Seireitei to kill people. An educated man? Not necessarily, simply one with both a conscience and a sword.

"I'm talking like we're about to draw swords against each other; which by now should be painfully clear." Yasougin blinked as his emotions seemed to stagnate while he spoke, "I never said anything like 'I found you!' or 'I finally caught you' or 'You're going to die here!' or 'I'll show you my true power!'. I never said anything implying that you have resignated yourself to some fate; simply that it was clear from that resounding tempest that we both surely felt what would be done here and now."

"I only said that I won't let you proceed without naked blades; it's an affirmation from my side that I realize you probably wouldn't like it any other way. We have to like fighting to a certain extent in order to be warriors; you cannot become a God at something you curse." He let his smile flitter onto his face again, "The only question is how it will proceed; we have the basis for today's event. Gotei shinigami meets Ryoka, they engage in moral debate, they draw swords, and one of them wins; that's the way this normally goes from what I can imagine. I'm only guessing though; I've been privy to a lot of my things in my life but a Ryoka has never been one of them."

His left hand had never moved, "I apologize, but you seem to have not answered my question. It's the duty of a 3rd seated officer to give support to anyone above them, just as an ant must help its colony. Whether or not the metaphor has any greater implications; I neither know nor care. But the fact remains that my Vice Captain is missing, that you are a Ryoka and standing before me, that I can trace your path backwards from Muramatsu-dono's lively Ban Kai, and..."

Yasougin's eyes flashed with the hint of the previous typhoon, "...and someone who holds my temperament is a truly a fool; for all Gotei shinigami are family to someone who is but content with those around him. Therefore, if you killed the Soutaichou's Vice Captain, my Vice Captain, then I will obviously be rather outraged and the introduction to the fight will be something my Commander-Captain would seriously disapprove of."

The man was serious for a moment before waving his free hand, "Not to say that I'm some kind of scary person when I'm angry, or that I gain some type of keen cutting edge. Just to say that I've been angry once in my life, and beating back the self-spawning currents is something I am not very capable of. So, if you were to get my angry, it would be impossible to suppress it. Suffice to say, I would not be very capable of my job."

There was the poetic smile splashed across his face as the hand twitched above Seizakoku; not out of malice but because the sword was ready to leap out of its cage and into the free, bloody air of combat, "And, it would be a shame if I accidentally killed you and annihilated Seireitei in the process, all because I was angry."
 

Ryoka Leon

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From behind the dark lenses, his eyes began to gleam with anticipation.

Oh? You won't be very capable of your job, and you speak of annihilating me and Seireitei? Interesting information...

The Ryoka appeared to quietly contemplate the response he should give...in truth, he was toying with the notion of lying about Arihito's fate simply to call out the beast in his opponent. Seeing Yasougin's full power was a tantalizing notion, but since Leon hadn't gotten a truly accurate idea of his foe's strength during their split-second connection, he knew that provoking the 3rd seat would simply be hunting for something that may not necessarily be frightening...and Leon never went hunting for his fears. Besides...opponents lost in rage were never as threatening as those who had their wits. Their power may increase, but it would only be the equivalent to an enormous toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

After a moment, Leon sighed audibly and pointed his right index finger, bare above the end of the black glove, towards the necklace his opponent had discarded.

"That thing there...it should've been pretty frickin' difficult to locate me, what with my using you and your Captains' signatures to cloak under. If that thing amplified your senses, you had to have felt the pulse that was Arihito Muramatsu's reiatsu in the background of your mind," he replied at last.
 

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"That thing there...it should've been pretty frickin' difficult to locate me, what with my using you and your Captains' signatures to cloak under. If that thing amplified your senses, you had to have felt the pulse that was Arihito Muramatsu's reiatsu in the background of your mind," he replied at last.​

Yasougin's hand paused over the two swords, but dropped to his side after a moment of hesitation. As it slid downward, his fingers softly graced against Norikou Gakushi Mitsu's tsuka handle, the lifeless sword itself slowly becoming a part of him. So, with his two swords at his waist, both of his hands folded into and hidden by the billowing Noble's Cloak, the golden Sonkigyoushou brimming at his chest, Yasougin's inner peace was reborn with the most intense of content emotions.

"Ah, but if I had felt that small prick, even in the back of my mind, then I wouldn't have asked you that question." Yasougin smiled, nodding slightly, I'm surprised he didn't say anything about the bomb in his stomach, but he seemed to pause a moment to think. Which means that...he has to know about it. I don't remember the letters saying anything about them knowing about it or not so...for now, I'll have to assume he knows about it.

He smiled, though, as he realized the situation with the question. Had he felt Muramatsu's reiatsu in the back of his mind? He didn't know Muramatsu too well, sadly, and as such the man's reiatsu wasn't very recognizable throughout the raging tempest of reiatsu that the Ryoka were beckoning from the deepest deaths of the Gotei's strength. The fact that he had left the Taisho and abandoned Sougen was another aggressive move by the Gotei, probably looked for and planned on by the Ryoka, but Yasougin simply thought of the question. In the end, the rudimentary question became...

"What do you think character is?"

"What you do when no one's looking."

"Who's no one? To me; no one is everyone. As a warrior, everyone is no one, but no one is everyone. Everybody is their own facet within the greater mass of the world. When both people are looking and when they aren't, when they hear and when-"

"But isn't that saying that character is about everything you do?"

"And it is!. Rather slow on the uptake, though, aren't you? You must clear your mind and do as you would always do, though. Character means nothing if it breaks down, it must be study and it must be yours. Others will barter for its demise, some will attempt to rebuild it; do as you will. For even in matters dealing with character, it is but another facet of character's entirety itself."

"A test of character, I suppose." Yasougin whispered before speaking louder, "If you had answered no, what would have happened? The battle would have started, in all of its raging entirety, and quickly accelerated to the place where neither of us could yield and inch, let we die. But this is all theoretical, because the only thing that stands right now on the base of reality is our situation.

"I don't know why you came here, or why you're facing me with those eyes you hide. I don't know why you hide your eyes, and I don't know why you carry a sword; but I do know that you carry a sword against my Lord, and I do know that we both appreciate the inevitability of this clash. I wonder if anyone else will watch as we fight, Ryoka. Because surely...this fight is a test of character."

Yasougin's hand grasped about the small piece of white cloth at his side, tugging at it to reveal a greatly shrunken Ushin Enpa. The yumi bow billowed out to its full size, the two meters of lean killing intent, as the quiver similarly found itself on Yasougin's back. He didn't draw and arrow, yet, his eyes drilling into Leon's covered eyes.

"But before we fight; you know my name. You know my division, undoubtedly. You know that I am a loyal servant of Amagawa Sougen. But I know nothing about you." Yasougin smiled, "I'd hate to fight someone who's nameless, even if it's to write your name on a grave I dug myself."
 

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Leon's eyebrows quirked at this...that was the second time that his opponent had noted the Ryoka were standing against Amagawa...the first time, he had dismissed the statement as a mere coincidence that fell in line with Yasougin's rapidly changing emotions and his Division status, but after witnessing the 3rd seat's control visually, he found this a slightly disturbing notion.

"Wait."

He outstretched his gloved hand, palm upwards, with the prose of a preacher attempting to remain composed in the face of the Devil.

"I already answered one of your questions, even though it looks like you're not exactly close to your Vice Captain. Still, even a retard could conclude that he's alive from my response. This is no interrogation...if you want to ask me another question, you're going to have to answer one of my own: how do you know our objective in regards to Amagawa Sougen?" he asked solemnly.
 

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"Ah, but didn't I say I'd possibly have two questions, depending on the answer you gave me?" Yasougin smiled at the man's first comment, the naÁƒ ¯ve grin so overwhelming contradicting the active yet invisible around his body. His right eye, though closed in his customary smile, peeked open to see the man's outstretched hand, as if beckoning a greater diety.

At the man's question, Yasougin blinked. It was a slow, purposeful blink that undoubtedly conveyed his confusion to the man; had he not known? Yasougin immediately reconsidered his earlier evaluation of the opponent's silence; did this man seriously not know of what was coming forth?

Though this is just hypothetical, we certainly cannot rule out the possibility of them being affiliated with one another. Therefore, I imagine that the true objectives of the Ryoka are much more different than what was delineated in the letters. What they are after is not the device itself... but the phrase."

"...'Dum vita est, spes est.' From Latin, it roughly translates to 'while there is life, there is hope.' This is rather uncanny for a phrase that would ultimately cause the fiery deaths of the Ryoka that hear such words. If the device Zeitgeist has sent me is not their prime objective, then again, hearing this phrase is.

Sougen...so you truly perceived the ends of this Heir of the Beast? Yasougin's eyes flittered, I apologize if I am breaking my orders, but I believe that this may be one of our best opportunities to garner the full brunt of the King's treachery.

"The Gotei was sent two letters by someone who carries the title 'King of Mind', inevitably a title gained through the blood of others." Yasougin's disgust for the title was permeable as the ancient hatred set in for the briefest of moments; it was something unerasable within the man's soul that created such fierce dichotomy. Unlike the tempest with Arihito's condition, however, this was a focused and seething fire that though the opponent would sense, he would never be able to feel, "One of them detailing an object sent to us that you inevitably seek; that object is with my Commander Captain, making him your target."

Yasougin's eyes glimmered as he remembered more of the letter; It said that they don't know about the bomb within them...should I attempt to tell him and get him to surrender peacefully? Or is someone from their organization watching, waiting to hit the trigger and blow it up once they know? We're far enough from Sougen so that he won't die, but our vicinity to the 3rd...that means I shouldn't attempt saying unless I'm forced to use Ban Kai. Maybe...then...

"I answered your question." Yasougin said with his smile, "I ask that you facilitate conversation and answer mine of your name - and don't bother denying what we know, after all, the Zeitgeist Avatar Aver is not one to fully lie."
 

Ryoka Leon

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Leon's expression bore no visible difference after being given the information, but within, his mind was beginning to whirl into a formidable tempest of thoughts and questions.

What? King of Mind? The Zeitgeist Avatar Aver? Who the hell is he? And how did he manage to relay information to these guys about the Kenshutuki? They were sent the Kenshutuki? That's not what we were told.

A minute grimace formed at the edge of his lips, but the Ryoka quickly relaxed...for right now, the information was negligible, as it didn't change any of his objectives...he would simply have to focus on the 3rd seat for the moment, and so he returned to his analysis of his predestined enemy: the 1st Division member was clearly not capable of retaining his carefree attitude when speaking of such topics, as he had broken the faÁƒ §ade thrice thus far, none quite as blatant as when noting the identity of their informant. He wanted to know what made a fearsome foe like Shouyuu Yasougin tick, and he was willing to continue the game in order to do so.

"I see...me llamo Leon Valiente Simeon. Now..."

Though the offhand, nonchalant tone clearly bore a similarity to the instance with Ari, the Ryoka did find the revealing of his name to be a bit more necessary here, though the exact rationale behind this feeling was unknown even to him.

"...tell me why you looked so pissed off when you named the informant. It throws off your sanguine side, Shouyuu Yasougin, and as a result, throws me off in figuring just what your deal is" he replied, and his timbre indicated that he was beginning to take a likeness to the explorer who fears the potential dangers of the unknown, but whose thirst for knowledge is greater.
 

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