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!"​

 

[Adonai]

---

Cage of Hell

Kuwashii’s earlier attack sweeps around her in three hundred and sixty degrees and in the moment of her swing her blade shifted into Shikai, releasing flames all around her and desecrating the ground they stand on. He was bold and wise to avoid it, as she had expected him to, cleaving off part of his ear was a welcoming surprise. Him shifting into Shikai next was not unexpected and yet, once again, he surprises her by trapping them both in a cage.

She looks up and around at the jagged edges of the chains, appearing like they exist to rend meat from bone more than support weight. She hears the first rotation of his Shikai blade, her eyes moving from the cage and back to her opponent. He strikes a menacing visage across from her, enough to scare anyone who is not hardened by the true terrors of this world. Kuwashii is not fully tempered as his appearance does cause her brow to quiver with uncertainty, her head tilting down slightly as if trying to adjust her vision to look at him properly.
​

"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!"​

She laughs a bit, a bead of sweat falling from her head that wasn’t formed from the heat around them.
​

"Words have power in them, Iwamura-san.”​

He never noticed it, or rather he is ignorant because he does not know about Kuwashii’s Zanpakuto. Yūmeijin is not the name of her blade but rather the name of a particular attack she has in Shikai. Those flames that fanned out from her blade was part of that attack, keyword being part. His ignorance would not allow him to notice how she shifted into Shikai without saying the name of her blade, for a Shinigami to do this means they have acquired Bankai. Unluckily for Hyoroshi, she acquired Bankai ten years ago during the war against the Arrancar and that time span has allowed her to familiarize herself quite well with it.

Now comes the interesting part of Yūmeijin as it has two optional routes it can take. The first being more of a boomerang type function, the arc of flame launches from it and curves back to the blade, ideal for hitting a foe from behind. The second is for the flame to make contact with the ground and lay dormant. The tell-tale sign of Yūmeijin being used is the amount of flame left on her blade, currently there is not a speck of flame on that lumbering piece of charred, bladed metal. By saying the name of the attack Kuwashii can cause the dormant flames to erupt from the location they landed at, be it wall, ceiling or ground. Hyoroshi made a mistake placing them in a cage as a second interesting thing will take place. Unlike him, Kuwashii is not harmed by the flames she produces from herself or Zanpakuto.

The cage is engulfed in a pillar of white raging flames that will only cease upon Kuwashii’s command. Ordinarily she would use this tactic to make a cage of flames herself, surrounding herself and her foe with pillars of white flames. It is ironic how they both even have the mentality to cage their foes so they do not flee from them, but what will Hyoroshi do now? Will he let himself be burned alive in this inferno or will he release his cage so he can free himself from certain doom? The gap in their Reiryoku will not allow him to withstand the flames for long if at all. The blade remains resting on her shoulder while she waves her other hand through the fire engulfing her, like one would wave their hand through water. This is her happy place, her home amongst the flames.
​

"This prison will become your tomb.”​

---

​

 

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

​

---

Woosh-woosh, woosh-woosh, woosh-woosh sang his swords as Hyoroshi spun them around and around. Each end of the connecting chain pirouetted in his grip, and with each full rotation, the air billowing around him matched the steady climb in heat now simmering from his form. His gaze, focused on nothing specific, sat upon Kuwashii's black-charred weapon; not a spark flickered to life to join Kibakigane's dance. Woosh-woosh, woosh-woosh, woosh-woosh...

Kuwashii's hearty and unnerved laughter re-sharpened Hyoroshi's focus onto her corpse of a blade. Its shape, far larger and more unwieldy than any sealed Zanpakuto, suggested a release into Shikai. A Shikai he never heard proclaimed.

His world stopped in the midst of her response. All matter ceased to move--his fervent blades, her arrogant face, the shards and barbs of metal snarling and raging around them. The very heat now radiating from him. The silence of the moment permitted Hyoroshi a glance inward to the deepest seat of his core. Where every other cell and thought in his body hummed with the rationalized calm of self-assurance, this pinprick of instinct rebuked him in the form of the slightest twinge of physical unease. It fired a lone thought aimed at his thudding chest.

'Something's off.'

The thought zipped past him and into the horizon; the world resumed. Hyoroshi's throat itched from raising his voice. He swallowed, letting his diaphragm stay tickling, and stood firm. He didn't listen to what she had to say.

'Enough games...'

Hyoroshi blinked, and re-opening his eyes, found himself in a white void. The next instant brought the torment of incineration by flame--no, something hotter. It overwhelmed and suffocated and pressed deep into his body, whatever this was, intending to pulverize him out of existence itself. Killing intent.

For a fraction of a second he considered staying right where he was. He needn't continue; he could allow Kuwashii's star-power to plunge him into the inevitable end he'd spent centuries trying to rebuke. The inhibitions would cease and the regrets would no longer matter. He could scorch his way into the footnotes of history as a savage fool, as his own tyrant. Just as his nature demanded.

Titantic rage erupted its molten magma and consumed all thought. He bared his teeth into something resembling a feral grin, even as Kuwashii's plasma seared away most of his fur and reduced his Shihakusho to rags. Lunging forward through the white, an audible boom of shattering earth resounding under his feet, he found her where she'd been standing and thrust with his right blade. The sharpened top edge briefly met resistance as it plunged through Kuwashii's gut until pierced out through her back; the force of Hyoroshi's rush careened the duo directly into multiple chainsaw-pillars that briefly chewed and gnashed into Kuwashii's back before groaning and snapping off, still buried inside of her. For several more yards they flew out and away from the cage and the plasma, the energy from his impaled blade moderately burning and sizzling her body from the inside until, together, they hit the scorched earth and tumbled.

Hyoroshi came to a stop on his stomach, coughing and dry heaving, but raw emotion and his immense constitution refused submission. He heaved himself to his knees, then up onto his feet. He breathed in open-mouthed lungfuls and stared down Kuwashii, wordless, his eyes barely recognizing her. Regardless of her current condition, upon looking at him, Kuwashii would see a figure scorched dark, barely recognizable beyond his generally lupine silhouette. An almost human sensibility settled within him right then.

"...are you...down?"​

 

[Adonai]

---

Amidst the white flame Kuwashii stood stalwart, blade on her shoulder ready for Hyoroshi to fall to his knees and submit to the burning. But this would not be the case, not at all. She learns an important lesson here today, simply because someone is trapped and burning doesn’t mean they cannot fight back. Trapped and burning makes someone desperate, feral, powerful, a miscalculation on her part through and through. But this doesn’t mean she was unprepared for setbacks.

The beast lunges at her, fang and fury all laid bare with the intent to maul and decimate her. He thrusts his blade forward only to hear the resolute sound of metal slamming against metal. It was heavy, it was loud, loud enough to almost form a splitting headache in anyone other than the two fighters. She had reassumed her stance after the pillar of flame erupted from the ground, sword on shoulder, that instant reaction technique she had used when shifting into Shikai. She had used it again but in defense instead of offense.

Hyoroshi, in his current state, could not be easily parried or knocked away, not by the likes of her. His blade cuts into something, but his lunge is thrown off, he would not be carrying her away and into his spikes. He slides outside of the cage as he intended with something landing in front of him, Kuwashii’s severed left arm, nastily cut at the mid-section of her bicep due to how her blade attempted to parry his. The flames in the cage fade and recede back to her Zanpakuto, she is on a knee, her wound bloody yet seared along with a seared wound along the side of her ribs.
​

"...are you...down?"​

As Assured and Defiant as the Rising Sun

She begins to stir, to rise back to her feet and pulling her massive blade out of the ground. She looks back at Hyoroshi assessing his damage as well as her own. Her blade is alight with flames still, she is hardy and tough, but not as much as Hyoroshi.
​

"No matter what apocalyptic fate befalls the land the Sun WILL rise again. No matter what ill things happen in the night, it is temporary because the light of a star will arrive again! Am I down?! Never! I will rise again and again and again AND AGAIN! If I fall I’m taking everything with me! Like a Supernova!!!”​

She raises her blade over her head with triumph and defiance.
​

"Bankai!!! Zōge-iro Chōten!!”​

(象牙色 頂点: Ivory-white Apex)

The flames vanish from her blade, a haze of heat still lingering on the blade. The area gets brighter and the heat becomes more intense as above their heads sits what Kuwashii calls, “A scientifically accurate” white Star. It rotates on a perfect axis, plasma churning and erupting across its surface, sunspots forming and vanishing.

She points her blade at Hyoroshi, even with an arm missing she still seems ready to continue, ready to burn herself on a sacrificial pyre to achieve her goal.
​

"I could have just asked you if you had Bankai. I assume the answer being no I could have just left it at that and assumed My Zanpakuto was stronger. But that isn't enough, not for me. Should haves, could haves, and would haves are not enough."​

She lowers her blade, that feral fury that was once within Hyoroshi seems to have shifted over to her. It seems to resonate and stay with her longer than it should in anyone, not a good sign.
​

”Fighting is all about liberating your power, Iwamura-san. That cathartic release of enjoyment in a fight is impossible without exerting strength. That’s why-”​

A vein bulges from her forehead, her hands, in her neck and worst of all, her eyes go white, devoid of pupil or iris. A sort of berserker state, is this her giving it her all, or is this the culmination of all the negative influences in her life manifesting in this ugly visage she is taking.
​

”-I must know, without a shadow of a doubt, that my flames are stronger. Therefore, you must be crushed, pummeled, brutalized, devastated, shattered, broken!”​

She swings her blade and an arc of plasma from the star tracks her blade's trajectory, burning and cleaving away the cage that currently contained her. She follows through on the swing, the plasma burns and blackens the ground at her feet and returns to the star. Her arm comes to a rest as she holds it there for a moment. She continues to speak, but it is only her listing off words of violence and malice.
​

”Scattered, expired, reaped, culled, razed, DESTROYED!!!"​

Her arm swings the sword again, another arc of plasma releasing from the star, this time in the direction of the injured Hyoroshi. Burned as he is, does he still have the strength and mobility to avoid this attack or will he face a greater injury at the hands of a rageful Kuwashii?

---

​

 

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

---

Hyoroshi quivered where he stood, enough for Kuwashii to discern. Every square inch of his body thudded with quiet agony; her flames had been powerful enough to solder off his nerve endings. Every breath strained, smoke billowed from his maw, yet he did not feel particularly disturbed. Slowed, not fully hindered. His searing rage was keeping his hackles raised but poised.

A flash blinded him both inside and out. His mind's eye found the barren landscape and dilapidated temple, both consumed by blue flame. Empty.

He reoriented himself to Kuwashii's Bankai--the answer to her strangely graceful and fluid nature throughout this battle. His eyes tilted up to the star's brilliance as his ears swiveled to catch her impassioned monologuing. Despite his demands and threats she stood here now, prattling, desperately trying to justify herself to him.

Justifications. The word sounded correct.

Through the haze of his simmering rage, a single jet of empathy pierced.

'So that's it. You've been little more than a fearful scamp, all this time. I understand now...'

Hyoroshi dropped his gaze to Kuwashii again. Hints of pity pulsed from the visible cracks on his volcanized face. Her show of force was spectacular; someone lesser would have already been halfway inside the Seireitei by now. But now, strangely, he viewed something delicate about her--something to cherish. Admiration, maybe. He wasn't sure yet. Even so:

'This girl is worthy.'

Genuine heart-feeling, as genuine as the gleaming gold upon the face of the figure several dozen yards behind Kuwashii.

A slight choking sound rasped from his throat; his eyes stretched wide with recognition. The figure stood taller than even him, its body mostly concealed underneath a jet-black hooded robe with an electric-blue interior. Golden gauntlets secured around his arms, the figure smirked, its four tusk-like teeth wickedly-straight and outright bestial in size.

Hyoroshi's eyes blinked, slowly. By the time they re-opened, the figure was nowhere to be seen--yet its presence remained, the knowledge of such pumping through Hyoroshi's veins.

"You are worthy. You do understand."

He watched the immense arc of plasma and braced with both swords. His faculties felt floaty, imprecise, as if he were in a dream; the plasma blasted into him at full force, the heat and resistance from his blades protecting only his most vital components, his head and his chest, from full incineration. The arc's knockback, something his blissful mind hadn't considered, thrust him back several feet and ripped Kibakigane from his grasp. He tumbled and rolled around and around to a stop. Both swords swung deep into the earth behind him, the connecting chain rattling and clinking in protest. Heat continued to quiver off the blades.

"For that, Hyoroshi Iwamura, have at it. I am you and yours."

"Guh...ghk..."

Laid face-first in the dirt Hyoroshi stirred. His breath heaved and huffed. Both elbows swung upward while both hands, instead of pushing into the soot, merely dragged without particular intent. The realization crossed his mind as he writhed that he could not feel his hands or parts of his forearms, though he failed to notice that significant portions of both had been stripped away to charred bone.

Instead his focus shifted, pulling one leg and then the other underneath his torso until, unsteady and seemingly about to tilt over, he pushed himself back up to his feet.

Hyoroshi let his head crane up, taking in the white-less blue above. He was nearly gasping; his sandy throat demanded liquid he knew would not come. On either flank his arms hung limp.

In the empty sky, currents like hair and glints like eyes embossed themselves into his vision.

'Kurayami. Gekka. I have betrayed both of you.'

Hyoroshi's head dropped; first hanging as if broken, limp in the gallows, then lifting with effort to meet Kuwashii's attention. He focused in on something past her.

In his glowering gaze held the unmistakable void of submission.

"I...am yours..."

His words crackled leaving his fried windpipe. He could still feel his biceps and elbows, somewhat. He lifted both at his sides, letting their broken ends lean down without life.

"Was...a fool..."

He felt one leg was a little sturdier than the other. He pushed himself forward a step with it, letting the other act as a stabilizing weight to keep him upright.

"My...choice...mine...alone..."

Another step, a little longer than the last.

"Take care...of...me..."

A third step. He halted. Kuwashii, had she not moved, would be standing as far away from his front as Kibakigane stood lodged behind him. They were radiating heat substantial enough to set fire to the very air around them; they were shaking with tangible ecstasy.

Hyoroshi locked his eyes back onto Kuwashii. They did not recognize her.

"Bankai."

Imperial Purgatory of Ash

A deep whirling sound flooded the air behind him as two spinning blurs rushed forth like homing missiles until-- sickening wet scrunches resounded. Kibakigane found its mark. Blood gushed and sprayed, both blades deep enough into the torso to poke out the other side.

Yet no pain or incineration came to pass upon Kuwashii. She felt nothing.

Hyoroshi stared down at his chest, at the two crimson-soaked blade-ends protruding from his sternum and his gut. He opened his mouth to wail; initially, sound escaped him. His eyes peered up at an angle, towards nothing in particular at the center of the Seireitei.

They yanked down and pierced straight into Kuwashii's face.

The force and heat of an atomic bomb subsumed the bones and flesh and mind of Hyoroshi before any words could be spoken. The very fabric of his being reduced to a husk within perpetual blue flames; his forearms and hands regenerated its muscles and nerves in real time--only to join in the agonized chorus that now erupted across the rest of his body.

The sound that finally ruptured from his throat was unlike any sound a human could make. The dry, bellowing roar, guttural and reverberating off its surroundings, swept across most of the First District. Any Souls still present in the streets would be scrambling to their homes and businesses, bewildered and petrified from sheer confusion of what was happening. Beyond, the Reiatsu cascading from both combatants acted as a combined beacon of sensation that could be felt across the entirety of the Seireitei. Any and all Shinigami within its walls could tell something momentous was occurring.

Just as the roar was ebbing, the connecting chain snapped down the middle behind Hyoroshi. The two flailing chains abruptly gained minds of their own; both reached forward, snaking and coiling around and around one arm each.

The final link seared into each wrist. By the next instant, a sound like rocket engines taking off built upon itself further and further until, reaching the deafening crest, all of the potential Hellfire gathering within Hyoroshi's own body was loosed. A deep, booming shockwave was the only signal before fiery energy shot out in a perfect circle with him at its center, decimating everything in its path, without exception, to oblivion.

Including, potentially, Kuwashii herself.​

 

[Adonai]

---

She saw something in his eyes, something that she has seen plenty of throughout her life. It is a look that is oil to flames, a look of pity. That fleeting look of pity from Hyoroshi only made her sink deeper into her wrathful nature. What was once meant to be a test of strength, a spar, may very well turn into a death sentence. Blinded by anger all she wants to do now is hurt him, bring him complete and utter pain.

He is knocked back by the plasma of Zōge-iro Chōten, but this isn’t enough for Kuwashii, not by a longshot. She wants him to feel pain, enough so that she can extinguish the look of pity from his eyes. Even as he brings himself up, his forearms and hands charred beyond belief, she readies herself to strike again, to call down another arc of plasma upon his burnt body. He began to rise, this came as no surprise as his hardiness was quite something to behold in the earlier stages of this fight. That is why every blow Kuwashii has let loose has been so violent, so close to the verge of not being restrained in the slightest.

He began walking towards her and this gave her reason to pause. The final gasps of resistance from a dying foe are often the most devastating. Even if death in this scenario merely means passing out the final gasps of consciousness are still dangerous. That danger became very real as the sound of his blades moving on their own caused her to stab her blade into the ground, prepared to use it as a shield. The familiar sound of blade meeting meat and bone finds her ears as she peers up and over her blade. Beyond the handle of her blade she can see Hyoroshi impaled by his own blades. Her eyes slowly began to return to normal upon hearing him say Bankai.

Then came the flames erupting from his body, consuming him. It doesn’t take a genius to see that those flames are causing him harm, even if it is a Bankai it is quite the dangerous one, for the user.
​

"Hey…”​

Kuwashii tries to get his attention, her voice calmer, more cautious and concerned. Her head tilts a bit, her face grimaces from the sound of the howling he makes. The sound bellowed from his frame is not one any human could make, let alone a sound one would expect to come from a thing in the shape of one.
​

"You idiot! Deactivate it! It’s killing you in that condition!!”​

She shouts, trying to make her words find purchase with Hyoroshi who seems more far gone than she was. The ebb and flow of this wrath was like an entity all on its own, bouncing between Hyoroshi and Kuwashii making them more rageful each time. That sound of rocket engines, the howling of it, the sound of heat speed and power all rolled into one. She hears it and goes on the defensive, bracing herself against her blade she embedded into the ground. When that hellfire was released from Hyoroshi, Kuwashii countered with a technique of her own, one that was once again set up in advance.

When her flames make contact with a surface in Bankai they leave a sunspot, a patch of lingering heat. When destroying the cage that had held her, that plasma struck the ground, creating a sunspot. This technique is very similar to the one she used in Shikai, except there is no limit to how many of these sunspots she can make while in Bankai. The Hellfire rushes towards her and she speaks the name of the technique.
​

"Sendō Hikari!”​

(先導光; Leading Light)

A swirling pillar of white plasma erupts around her and unlike Hyoroshi she is not harmed by her Bankai. The hellfire connects the flames swirl together then explode, essentially flash frying the area of any vegetation that was left and any structures. The aftermath had a scattering of white and blue flames littering and burning the area. Above it all was the star Zōge-iro Chōten, still rotating on its perfect axis. In front of Hyoroshi was a lone blade, heat emanating from it and surrounded by the white and blue flames. It tilts to the side then stops when a hand from behind it grabs the hilt and pulls it free from the ground.

Kuwashii stands silently, her hair no longer in a ponytail and now singed at the ends. The burn wound on her face seems agitated as if it had been freshly reburned again. A wound across her left ribs and a missing left arm whose stump is seared closed, she looks worse for wear. But across from her is a Shinigami who was burning alive in their own flames, compared to him she is the image of health and vitality.
​

”Enough! Concede this fight, you’ve lost. It takes ten years to master a Bankai, just because you’ve unlocked yours doesn’t mean we are suddenly even.”​

She takes a new stance, holding her massive blade horizontal beside her left hip. She is ready to make use of her superior speed to blitz Hyoroshi, to seek a blindspot if need be, to strike him down. With her senses trained on Hyoroshi still she glances over at her severed arm, it is burning, getting more damaged by the second and she quickly looks back to Hyoroshi.
​

”Surrender damn it!! If I have to go to him for a new arm I’m going to kill you for real!!”​

Whoever this him person is, they don’t seem like someone Kuwashii wants healing from. They are someone she absolutely cannot trust with a task like that, regardless of how kind they may be.

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