Rukongai

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

---

One hot, heavy exhale plumed from Hyoroshi's mouth. The sensors in his nose and mouth were blanketed by the tang of his own blood; he squinted, allowing him a narrow peek into the magnitude of destruction he'd wrought before him.

He was already aware of Kuwashii's status; he hadn't felt, heard, nor smelled anything from the young woman as his sword had come down. No, to be ignorant of the truth would be making himself a fool; in his haste to rush and to overwhelm, he had permitted a certain mass of haphazardness in the velocity and angle of his sword. The attempt, to the keenest of eyes, could have seemed almost lazy...or, perhaps in better terms, lacking urgency. He was fast for his size, much more than most would typically expect--yet Kuwashii had avoided him with ease.

Hyoroshi smirked a tad. His attention held to her silhouette, then to her emerging, spotless face as the curtains of smoke and debris parted. He smeared the red ichor away from his eyes feeling nonplussed; perhaps even more confident than before. For his monumental strength naturally extended itself to his immense constitution, a fact he'd known since his formative years. Both of these qualities stood toe to toe with most Captains in the present day, if not surpassing them outright.

Knowing this, he had registered the warning between his brows and ignored it. He knew he could afford to do what he suspected Kuwashii could not--a suspicion confirmed as correct with her blocking and evading.

Hyoroshi stood tall enough under the sunlight for Kuwashii's feet and ankles to be subsumed by his shadow at eight feet away. Her gaze spelled the type of cold analysis that Hyoroshi considered a staple of the Date clan...

...yet he gave no outward reaction either way, did not advance or retreat. Instead, he put one foot in front of the other in another circular orbit around her. Regardless of Kuwashii's conscious awareness of the matter, or of her possible responses if Iwamura were to bring it up: their instincts danced to something mutually bloodthirsty; their intuitions, at least in Iwamura's eyes, were concealing that bloodthirst within skin-tickling layers of suspense and dominant drive.

Neither of them wanted this to end quickly, Hyoroshi concluded. Such was the destiny of revelers of any kind. His attention remained firm on Kuwashii as he circled her lackadaisical, his loose posture conveying a simple message.

Let go, Kuwashii Hakunetsu, and convince me of your star-power.
​

 

[Adonai]

---

Hyoroshi circles her, like a planet orbiting a star. She found it amusing, though she did not express this externally in any way. She decides to halt her stride, this is the second time he has done this, circling her like a beast on the prowl for its next meal. Could this just be the second nature of the Beast Clan and is Hyoroshi even aware of his own actions?

Regardless, she has been assessing a few things about Hyoroshi, trying to see where she can gain an edge, what she can exploit and any weaknesses in his form. She has determined a few things about him and will take advantage of them when the moment calls for it. She inhales slowly and exhales, this action was like an ignition as her body is wreathed in white flames, her Reiatsu made manifest in its elemental form. Speed was compared and blades were crossed, she has seen his strength and knows what it would spell if he were to strike her directly. Now, the real comparison begins, the appetizer is over and the main dish has arrived. The test of flames begins here.

Kuwashii is thankful that Hyoroshi does not have a vast amount of Reiryoku, the difference between Great and High Reiryoku won’t be enough for him to nullify anything that she does from here on out. In her mind this means her blade can pierce and kill him.
​

"You know, I’m not sure if you were born strong or if you trained to get that sort of power, but I was not born strong. Strong enough to hurt normal souls but compared to those who could swing a blade and have powers of their own, I was weak.”​

Though she was wreathed in flames her humanoid shape could still be seen and her voice came through clearly.
​

"I always had to over achieve to get what I wanted, it's how I became Guardian of Naruki City for a time.”​

Her face twitched as she remembers her time in Tenth Division and all the cutesy nicknames they gave her. Giants who only saw a small ankle biter barking up at them, it frustrated her to no end.
​

"I even demanded a seated position from Captain Izanagi when I was still in that Division. Although certain events lead me to being in Ninth, what I’m trying to get at here is that I’m used to punching up. Every single person I have ever fought has been stronger than me, you are no different.”​

She does not mention her success rate against such foes, even against Elk she did not gain that victory alone as it was through the efforts of the three combined that saw that come to fruition. Yes, she has fought people stronger than her, her whole life but she has never tasted victory against them. Despite this she still has an unshakeable confidence to her, stalwart and unwavering, confidence that is assured as the rising sun. One thing she does not give herself enough credit for is that she may not have defeated any of these strong opponents but she has always survived. She cannot just merely survive this encounter, she must win no matter what.
​

"Now stop orbiting me like the star I know I am and come attack me-”​

She rests her blade on her shoulder while speaking as it too is now wrapped in flames.
​

"-dog.”​

---

​

 

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

​

---

Hyoroshi stopped and stared at Kuwashii with a lone eye. She's decided to allude to it outright, he thought; her evasive maneuvers had been a deliberate gameplan to gauge his strength. She hadn't the strength to face him head on, as she herself admitted in essence. He was, indeed, about one strong hit from the finish line. The miniature monologue itself had been unexpected--though he considered himself the fool for not expecting this from what amounted to Kisho's protege.

Yet he was not naive. Not anymore. He turned his head fully towards her and narrowed his eyes, ever so slightly.

For a couple seconds he was silent. Then--chuckling; deep, rumbling, earnest things layering like a blanket around something resembling biting-cold spite.

"That's right, Kuwashii Hakunetsu. I am a dog."

Focusing on her again, his eyes fell half-lidded and the ends of his lips gently curved upwards.

"Loyal to anything that'll give me what I desire."

Hyoroshi shifted his posture by bending his knees, spreading his legs and lowering his center of gravity; he held his Zanpakuto in one hand. All across his person the orange flames of his Reiatsu sparked to life. The sheer force draping his form fluttered any exposed fur in the resulting breeze. In this precise state, in this frame of mind, Kuwashii could perhaps discern a sliver of pride within her--for she could proclaim herself the first since Shizukana Kurayami to bear witness to the Beast of Western 78th.

"In this moment, it is for you to dispose of words and seek the fruit of your quest. Turn me to ash, girl. Show me the extent of your passion!"

In his mind's eye, Bokunou Kibakigane smirked.​

 

[Adonai]

---

​

"In this moment, it is for you to dispose of words and seek the fruit of your quest. Turn me to ash, girl. Show me the extent of your passion!"​

She dared him to attack and instead of attacking he only threw her challenge back at her. His words, to dispose of words and seek the fruit of her quest, total victory and proof that her flames are greater than his. Her blade, poised on her shoulder, begins to hum with more flames, what she is about to do next is a culmination of her Zanjutsu knowledge, a technique that takes from two separate pre-existing Zanjutsu techniques and merges them into one. Speed, strength and grace, wrapped all into one cohesive strike.

Maybe it was wise that Hyoroshi didn’t attack her outright, he may have put himself in danger by doing so, less room to escape.

Her blade is swung and a circle of flame expands her blade, the ground beneath her feet becoming charred and littered with white embers as the flames expand out further and further. This description, however, does not do the speed of the attack justice. This nameless technique is equal parts Agitowari (顎割, Chin/Jaw Splitting) and Ryōdan (両断, Bisection). It starts with her blade being sheathed or if in Shikai resting on her shoulder. She unleashes a singular fast slashing attack in three hundred sixty degrees around herself. The blade is moved with such controlled motion that she appears to have never drawn or swung it at all. Normally this attack cuts all within the reach of her blade but she extends that range by unleashing flames with it.

The scorched earth at her feet is blackened in the wake of the attack, life will never take root in this soil again as a result. Once the flames dissipate only white embers rising from the ground remain, meanwhile, Kuwashii stands still, wreathed in her flames but her blade has changed. No longer a mere Katana but a blade that is larger than her, charred black with marks of obvious heat damage done to it. It is the only part of her that isn’t on fire, the flames born from her Reiatsu act more like a form of armor rather than being an extension of her Zanpakuto ability.
​

"Yūmeijin.”​

(有名人; Luminaries)

That was the only word she spoke as she remained standing at the epicenter of charred earth. She hopes the dog hasn’t been bifurcated from her sudden attack. Although the weight of a Zanpakuto doesn’t mean anything to the wielder, unless weight is an attribute of it, it does detract from the spectacle of Kuwashii swinging such a large blade with that level of speed. It’s almost uncanny, but it is needed, if she is too slow then her true target would kill her in no time.
​

"Why accept this challenge? Besides the vague goal of getting stronger, why accept? Do you plan on taking my goal for yourself to boast about having the strongest fire Zanpakuto?”​

---

​

 

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

​

---

For one brief moment, a pause stripped away the air.

Iwamura glanced Kuwashii up and down. She'd yet to either advance or falter; she was scheming up a plan, no doubt. The inference of such, for once, ground particles of irritation into his marrow. In this brief interlude, he couldn't help but wonder what had brought this woman to this point at all--what she possibly saw as honest indignation at her situation only came off to Hyoroshi as a form of bloviation. In truth, it only seemed like a way for her to puff her chest. An inferiority complex, perhaps, although the answer felt slightly off the instant it'd crystallized in his head. A sliver of his soul wished, under different circumstances, he could have gotten to know her back then. If only to know...

'Why must you be wast--'

A looming breeze sliced through him, perfectly linear in shape; perfectly clean. Hyoroshi's eyes doubled in size.

"Ghk--!"

Instinct and training all but activated Shunpo for Hyoroshi and yanked his colossal form down and to the side; by the next instant the space he'd occupied had become a parchment of Hell itself. Hyoroshi re-appeared mid-collision with the ground below, the wave rocketing past overhead, before sliding back several yards on his feet, still cloaked in his own fiery display of power. He shook himself off as he felt something warm sprouting from one of his ears--finding with two fingers the top half of it severed off, the remaining half leaking crimson onto the top of his head.

He exhaled with a slightly shaky twang, adrenaline's work. He listened to Kuwashii's questions, that inane yapping, like an attention-seeking puppy. For another moment there was silence.

And he bared his teeth.

"Immolate, Bokunou Kibakigane." (ぼうくの きばきがね, Sovereign Golden Fangs of the Tyrant)

The inferno enveloping his blade and both wrists suddenly shone a light bright enough to force anyone nearby to squint. A second hilt thrust itself into Hyoroshi's free palm as if deliberately pushed into it as a dually connected chain swayed into his abdomen. With marked gentleness, his breath slipped away concealing a second command as swift as the first.

"Kamisori Kanbugui." (鋭い苦味のある刃の病棟, Acrid Razor Ward)

Iwamura swept both arms in until they crossed in front of his chest. As he worked through the motion, two jets of flame seared along charred ground from behind him and reconnected a few paces behind Kuwashii, forming a large circle. All simultaneously what must have been several dozen small bars of jagged metal burst from the earth, curving up and up and over their heads until, at last, meeting upon a central point. For all intentions, the duo were now locked in an outdoor prison.

A prison that, as the jagged metal bars clattered to life and rotated around themselves like abhorrent chainsaws, would no doubt flay those alive who couldn't bear its confines.

Hyoroshi stood straight and, without particular urgency, began spinning both of his Ram-dao blades. Despite Kamisori Kanbugui partially hiding the sun, Kuwashii could see his face clearly.

He was glowering; both eyes perfect circles, the blacks of his pupils contrasting his orange irises with a violence seen only within those creatures that, in no circumstance, could be called human.

"Did I not tell you to dispose of your words, Kuwashii Hakunetsu? Speak in that manner again and I shall ensure you won't speak again. Now FIGHT!"​