[BSD-RP] The Valley of Screams

[Shinigami]

The haze failed to show signs of weakening anytime soon, the butterflies still occupied in their frantic search for any sign of the man’s form. Blood, debris that wasn’t otherwise comprised of shattered bedrock, hair, cloth… anything that could give the boy an answer. The angel gripped the hilt of his shining blade tightly, apprehensive of what could possibly have come of this. For endless moments, no message seemed to be getting through– until the eventual sight of the captain’s haori was relayed to the angel. Laid ablaze amidst the debris, the mystery of his whereabouts was closer to being solved… but was his body subject to the same fate… or worse? Yū Nakamoto refused to wait any longer. He had to do something now!
“Oh god… did I go too–”
… he muttered to himself as he impulsively reached over to his waist where his sword once was sheathed. His silly attempt to grab his forgotten medical bag would prove to miraculously be his saving grace for out of the corner of his eye, he would recognize…
The Captain didn’t need saving at all.
For the next one second, time appeared to have slowed at a drastic rate as all of the following proceeded to happen within a single heartbeat.

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The sudden image of the close-approaching captain’s blade sent the boy into an emotional frenzy, all too quick to even process physically besides his bulging eyes and agape mouth. It was as if his life and afterlife alike both flashed before his cyan eyes– all of his choices, his mistakes, his accomplishments, his behavior, his influence, his training, all threatened by this moment. Even a single misstep could prove to make all of it meaningless, just left to die worthlessly on this barren field. It seemed fate had decided to spare the ever-worrying boy; in this instance, Yū had found himself mid-turn to face what once was a remote mystery behind him… and still partially was.
While in virtually any other case, a Shinigami would seek to use their blade to block or parry incoming attacks, Yū’s final plan of action was something else entirely. Even if that was the scenario he found himself in, the angel would much rather risk an attempt to escape than to lock blades with the captain in close-combat. But now, there was no time to escape… wherever he ran, the Phantom would continue to haunt him, having already plagued him with an undeniable anxiety before the two even formally met. So, what would stop him from continuing to do the same thing?
The faded color of the phantom’s intangible blade greeted Yū first, followed by his own luminescent sword. Swiftly with a single stroke, his wrist instinctively twisted inwards, switching the direction his blade faced so its tip now faced his chest. Kyomu’s deceitful blade inched closer along with his own in a short-lived race for his heart.
The proximity then between both blades and his physical form was minute, now both simultaneously painlessly puncturing through his skin undisturbed as they continued on to their true destination. While he was aware that his own blade would cause no harm, the same could not be said for the phantom’s. Regardless if his intent was to truly wound the angel or not, both this desire and potential pain would be unrecognizable to Yu due to sheer shock and the overflowing adrenaline that rushed through his veins. Despite neither sword presumably possessing actual tangibility, a shock erupted from his heart upon initial contact– this feeling immediately coursing through every fiber of his being. Simultaneous with whenever the assailant would reveal his form, Yū would reach to grab ahold of Kyomu’s forearm, ensnaring him to prevent any more attempts at fleeing but more importantly, to ensure this being before him was even… real.
Now hilt deep, the remainder of the boy’s blade proceeded within his own chest, his fist now empty, clutched over his heart. Instead, what lingered and tore through the image of his hand would be Kyomu’s own blade, pierced through the angel’s chest. Simultaneously with its seamless exit through his back and the initial thump of his fist onto his sternum, his reiatsu surged concurrent with the first-ever debut of his butterfly wings; While with more experience they would grow to be blue in color later when he grew more comfortable with channeling his reiryoku more fluidly, the deep fuchsia that coated them now would glow bright enough to taint the air all around the duo.

Astonishing even the angel, a shallow crater was instantly formed as the captain and the third seat now stood face-to-face connected only by the higher up’s sword. However, when compared with the classic characteristics that typically threatening reiatsu possessed, this aura the angel possessed was… unlike the others. Pebbles and boulders alike gracefully rose to the heavens, once displaced by his wings’ sudden appearance now finding refuge in the sky like doves. His wings would tremble for the slightest of moments, further spreading out his reiatsu’s effects. A calming effect traversed through the wasteland, instantly settling the debris he once faced that still had yet to be dispersed upon his previous, catastrophic assault.
Despite still finding himself in a life-threatening situation, the angel’s muscles loosened and soon enough the phantom would have this same alleviating sensation infect him. Even with just a slight taste of the angel’s pacifying essence, Kyomu would be able to grasp the healer’s essence and his reasoning for wanting to become Captain. While others simply sought glory and saw value in the amount of lives they took, Yū’s true nature would be the exact antithesis to the masses’ desires. Hopefully, this calming essence would radiate forceful enough to break the captain’s perpetual grimace, even if just for a moment while the two stood face-to-face, frozen. Even though his final skill had already launched into effect the moment his own blade entered his form, both his shoulders and eyes would drop with a heavy sigh as the boy would finally announce…

”Bankai… Nijitsubasa Ichikō.”

With several more breaths followed by the howling wind that passed through the arid valley, Yū would continue…
“I’m sorry, Captain Mukuro… I think for your sake…”
The angel tried to declare through huffs, before smiling smugly and continuing…
“...we should stop here.”
An arrogant comment had escaped from the otherwise humble boy’s lips who now faced eye-to-eye with Kyomu. Wasn’t he the one who failed to land even a single hit on the captain’s form? Failed to restrain the man even with his highest level kido? Almost possibly died less than five seconds ago, saved by his own forgetfulness? How dare he presume to suddenly have an advantage over the Phantom… did he view his Bankai as truly that much of a game changer? It would all depend on how Kyomu reacted to Yū’s bold request– the angel had chosen to toy with the captain’s ego, if only to finally get some type of reaction out of him besides his chronic indifference.
The moment Kyomu would move to strike in retaliation to his supposed audacity, he would have his answer.

 

[Shinigami]

Panic was written all over the Angel’s face, it showed in his eyes, it cloaked his very being. The young man was beside himself with worry, and for the briefest of moments forgot himself. Lost in the moment, faced with a potential patient Yū transitioned from combatant to physician. Muscle memory guided his hands and body towards his side, for a kit that was not present. It is in this moment that Yū became faced with the truth, faced with Kyomu’s silent attack.
The world around the prized healer stalled to a steady halt. No sound persisted within this frozen world, locked in time. His mind raced as he stared down the creeping blade, the ghostly apparition that was Captain Mukuro coming into full view.
Muscle Memory had granted him this miracle, a chance to perceive the once imperceptible. It was muscle memory that would perhaps save him, fueled and channeled by instinct. With blade in hand his body twisted, two blades now inching towards his chest, and once pierced...time resumed its normal flow.
The Captain found his forearm grasped, his blade embedded deep within the angel’s form, up to the very hilt. He raised his brow, taken slightly aback by the gesture. The feel of flesh, the pumping of blood through the veins, it would be clear to Yū that this was the genuine Kyomu. Wings of deep fuchsia erupted from the Angel’s back. The ground around them fractured, the boy had done more than enough to warrant being cut by his blade...yet the Captain stayed his hand. The phantom’s callous gaze remained fixed upon the blonde before him, as pebbles and debris alike floated towards once listless skies.
There was a sense of tranquility that pervaded the valley, encapsulating the two...especially the cold and distant Captain. It was as if Yū’s heart sought to speak with Kyomu’s through his reiatsu, painting vivid images of his resolve. Images of Yū laying at the bedside of patient after patient, of the young shinigami asleep at his desk, littered with scattered charts. A young Nakamoto, alone in a corner, crouched over as tears flowed endlessly from his eyes over lives lost from his inaction, and those he was unable to save despite his greatest efforts.
Yū’s was a tale of self sacrifice, of loss. His heart ached for those around him, and it drove him to lengths he didn’t know existed, it's what drove him to this stage here today. It is in this moment, enveloped by the angel’s reiatsu that for the first time in centuries, Kyomu is alleviated of the guilt that plagued his heart, the trauma that claimed his soul, and the horrors that clawed ceaselessly at his mind. It’s a welcomed reprieve to a man who’s life has been one of misery and loss;death, betrayal and despair.
Captain Mukuro becomes aware of feelings he never had...or rather, those long since lost. Burdened by duty and tradition, he is temporarily free of such fetters. His steeled gaze softens for a moment—but as great a joy it is, it is not his truth. Though grateful he knows better than anyone the price to pay for being lost in the waves of sentimentality, and so hardens his resolve.
”Bankai… Nijitsubasa Ichikō.”
The words uttered cause the phantom’s eyes to sharpen once more. So, the boy had acquired Bankai. Could it be a bluff? No, given this reiatsu, the look in his eyes, the calmness in his heart, this was no bluff. Kyomu was a master of deceit, and by proxy an excellent liar. This was no lie. Should he gain distance, to gauge what exactly it did? His blade was already hilt deep inside him, the advantage was still his.
“I’m sorry, Captain Mukuro… I think for your sake…”

”.....”
He stared without uttering a word. He tried to ponder the abilities of this bankai, that would warrant such bravado from the little healer. He had little to go off of, the boy fought primarily with Kido. What little he had seen of the zanpakuto and learned prior was it involved butterflies, and it greatly aided in healing, especially large numbers.
”So...this is your bankai?”
He asked, the question more rhetorical than anything. The two stood there, faced off against one another. The valley winds howled as it passed. Yū had suggested they call it quits, and truth be told Kyomu had seen more than enough...still.
He began to withdraw is still ethereal blade moving it to the side as it passed seamlessly through his body, causing no harm. As it neared Yū’s left shoulder, passing through the blade would regain corporeality at the last possible moment. It was swift and would cause a laceration to the left shoulder, a superficial wound for a healer of such repute. Captain Mukuro would, almost concurrently appear three meters further back, to gauge the reaction of the opponent granting enough distance for both observation and maneuverability.
He needed answers, and answers he would have.

 

[Shinigami]

“So… this is your bankai.”
The captain had finally exchanged more words with the angel, having remained wordless since the start of their battle. His smug grin widened into a genuine smile; It didn’t matter what Kyomu had said– all Yū had wanted, all he had craved since the inception of this exam was to prove his own worth, to prove the power he surely knew he possessed, to prove that he was now ready to lead. And finally, he had achieved this purpose. For the slightest of moments before announcing his Bankai, the angel witnessed a feat rarely anyone could ever dream of beholding. Kyomu’s countenance would shift ever so slightly; He was obviously much less tense and for once, more a boy and more familiar to Yū than ever: It was clear his resolve was potent enough to get through to even him.
But, as abrupt as this short but sweet moment Yū and Kyomu shared had come, the phantom’s gaze now had reverted back to one of disdain upon announcement of the angel’s Bankai– and just like that, the duo were promptly detached from each other emotionally, leaving Yū now to face the still-present predicament before him.
With a sharp inhale from Yū upon Kyomu’s initial movement, the phantom’s blade seamlessly exited the boy’s frame– at least, until the last possible moment. As the angel had carelessly trusted the captain would heed his advice and instead further inquire using his words, his wake-up call would be delivered while exhaling from false relief by the deep laceration on his left shoulder that had developed in a blink of an eye. But, before the gash could fully develop on Yū’s own person, the full wound would already be embossed on Kyomu’s own shoulder. While this was the undeniable truth as his Bankai’s effects acted upon intent rather than physical action, the phantom’s speed would prove to challenge his own Bankai as the lacerations would seemingly manifest on both Shinigami simultaneously rather than one before the other. The true advantage in this scenario would be how effortless it would be for Yū to treat wounds such as this one, especially in comparison to those he would face, both now and in the far future.
Before substantial amounts of blood could be drawn from his cut, a pair of butterflies had already found themselves tending to his wounds as Yū, now wincing, gritted his teeth in agitation. He peered down to his shoulder with his open hand hovering shakily above the cut, not so much due to pain, but due to pure shock as the angel finally could 100% verify the man before him was real and so was his method of analysis. It would be clear the past several minutes had taken a toll on the Shinigami’s psyche; unmanageable anxiety and self-doubt added on top of the Phantom’s illusions would make him question the reality before him for some time now, regardless of his result, regardless of his opponent.
Blood that threatened to stain his clothing would be sopped up by the butterflies that rested on his wound, fluttering their wings while they worked tirelessly to treat their favorite patient. With teeth still gritted as the sharpness persisted and would persist for a little longer, Yū would raise his head to face Kyomu, no doubt the phantom would still remain stoic as blood dripped from his laceration… even if his blood dropped in a drab manner. Maybe the captain would take a peek to witness what he had caused to himself or maybe he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t need to use his eyes for the same sharpness Yū experienced would be felt equally by his counterpart. However, for him, there would seemingly be no sign of incoming relief intended for him... until the butterflies' approach.
The rest of the herd came soundlessly from behind the Phantom, resting in unison onto Kyomu’s frame. Despite their large number, they would be virtually weightless– a testament to their irrefutable elegance. A handful of them worked to ease their new client’s pain, now also mending the captain’s laceration. While not visible without proper examination, damaged skin and blood alike were being dislodged while simultaneously being restored, their true goal being to revert him to his previous state prior to his injury. Throughout this procedure, all Kyomu would feel was a slight tickling sensation on his shoulder, along with rare instances of acute pain, the most agonizing being equivalent to getting a hair plucked.
Silence once again would be shared between them as they too worked tirelessly on the captain’s form. No doubt the captain would offer no thanks, let alone any type of outward expression or reaction. He would, as usual, just stand there… wordless… like always.
“You’re welcome…”
…Yū mumbled sheepishly and sarcastically to expectedly no response. Maybe in another world the two would grow to be close friends… hard to say if that would be possible in this one.

 

[Shinigami]

護廷十三隊

 

[Shinigami]

The morning had come and gone. The man known for constantly being in either a training field or a medical bed could be found in the 11th Division court yard. Under a set off autumn colored trees. Jinnosuke was finishing a sparring session with four other members of the 11th Division. He was showing them the benefits of training with weighted clothing and other means. After removing the heavy set he constantly wore, he took his cat Ruko from his pompadour. " Sorry little buddy, Have to show these guys this real fast. Walking in nothing but his briefs he would grab his large Unwrapped sword. Then spinning he would kick one of the nearby trees. The giant oak would shower orange leafs down onto Jinnosuke.
Closing his eyes he would lower his body, separating his legs and take his Zanpakuto into his left hand, slinging it back and down under his hip he would then turn and rotate his body sideways. His Left arm and right arm would then blur interchanging his Zanpakuto in between them as he completed a cycle of 42 swings in a matter of seconds. The area around him would be a miniature tornado of swirling orange yellow and lime green leafs. The act had gotten a few other members of 11th to stop and look as the four original ones gave shouts of cheer. They immediately ran to their own respective tree and started to kick and attempt to slice as many as they could.
He would then motion them to keep practicing while he went to get something to drink. As he walked into the Barracks he would find a shattered, cracking, and full of holes soul phone. It was bleeping with what looked like the remains of a light. He picked it up and used the thumb print scanner several times. Allowing it to unlock, a message could be mate out through the cracks.

[b]' ' Captain Kojima is meeting you in the valley of the screams for testing.' '[/b]

He would take the phone and reply and allow them notification to send the the gate then he would shove it into his sash before lighting up a cigarette. Walking out into the court yard he explained he was gonna have to take the day off. An important task came up.
Turning and awaiting a butterfly to open the Senkaimon. The gate came after several moments, He through out his cigarette into an ash tray and corrected a few members stance. Then the shuddering of wood panels and burst of air would signal it was time to step though. ' Captain Kojima huh, Nice a real challenge. He is insanely strong. I was worried they would put me against someone sneaky or someone that uses too much kido. We can defiantly work with someone that fights like me. ' He would think in his head as he started to trek down the pathway leading to the valley of screams. Stretching and listening to the crack his bones made as he relaxed and took a deep breath of Senkaimon Gate air he would chuckle to himself. He was as prepared for this fight as he would ever be. His training was not without success as well.
The Senkaimon gate suddenly appeared indicating the end of the road. Sliding once again as it released dust mites into the air. They caught refraction of the light as he now stood at the entrance to the Valley of Screams. Stepping out and waving a hand in front of his face he took his Zanpakuto and slung it around a few times. The air here was fine, Gravity fine, Conditions were all around very acceptable for battle. A perfect place to bring Shinigami for trials of combat. Jinnosuke Ueku the current 3rd seat of his 11th division would find himself walking about 1000 meters into the valley before stopping and motioning to stab his giant hunk of metal into the sandy rock a deep five feet. Turning and then leaning himself down until he sat on the ground with his back to his Zanpakuto he would light another cigarette and inter a meditative stance.

Instantly Jinnosuke was inside his Zanpakuto world. The one known as Ikari forming out of a trail of metallic mist until he was full form. They stared at each other intently, a light in their eyes like never before. This was a serious fight, their first one in a long while. They then reached out and shook each others hand. The giant knight draped in a skull helm would lower his head and Jinnosuke would do the same. Ikari would then vanish with the words you know what you have to do lost on a whisper as Jinnosuke would come back to focus on the sandy yellow and rocky brown textures of the Valley of Screams. Leaning back on his Zapakuto he would smile and continue smoking, awaiting his opponent.