End of School Days [Solo]

[Nakajima Kimiko]

"A person has been reported to have been murdered this evening in a public arcade of Tokyo's Akihabara district. Police detained the prime suspect Yamamoto Kazumi who was presumed to have been carrying a small kitchen knife in his pockets at the time of the murder. The unemployed 28-year old man from Toshima admitted to having committed the deed to the officers on the scene after he was assaulted by the other players within the arcade who claimed to have attacked him in an act of revenge for someone they considered to be a member of their family. At the time of the arrest, he sported multiple bruises, a broken finger and a bloody nose. The victim, the 20-year old Nakajima Kimiko who attended the University of Tokyo, was described as a talented and hardworking daughter by her grieving parents, and they both hope that she currently rests in peace."

A newscaster displayed onto a television set against the wall of a comfortable apartment room spoke a brief report about what seemed to be some kind of incident that occurred in Akihabara. The caster himself was middle-aged, roughly in his late 40s, and was wearing a tanned suit that made him appear professional, yet also humble, modest. He was standing up against a large screen, one that was most likely created through the use of a green screen, as was typical of news station sets, and onto the screen was displayed the face of Yamamoto Kazumi, the criminal the caster mentioned, seemingly smiling in satisfaction to whoever took the picture of him. The confidence that exhumed from the picture almost made him seem sickly, wrong. One could tell from his eyes alone that it had been a long time since he had lost his way and that there was no bringing him back from whatever had brought him to stabbing his victim.

By the television sat on a sofa a young woman in her twenties at best. Her crimson eyes were partly staring at the screen absentmindedly, uncaring of whatever kind of malice exhumed from Yamamoto's own orbs, for they seemed more focused onto a slice of pizza that was being eaten by the woman. "Psycho..." she hummed quietly as she enjoyed her food, visibly enjoying it a bit too much to care about whatever had happened. It had been a while since she had watched the news, and all things considered, a part of her simply wanted to grab the remote and change the channel so that she could hopefully leave it on one of the more popular animated shows of the year. However, for some unknown reason, she just didn't really want to change it today. No particular reason. She just simply didn't want to. Ultimately, it didn't really matter; for all sense and purposes, it was just background noise for today's dinner much like the cooking sounds that came from the kitchen.

As the young woman enjoyed her food, the door to the apartment suddenly opened, prompting her to look over the couch to look at the newcomer. Upon seeing him, however, her excitement faded away and she simply looked back to the television. Oh, it was just him. "Hey, Dad," she told the man who entered the room as she looked back towards the television. Much like the newscaster, he was also wearing a suit, though this one sported the classic black color instead alongside a tie. Unlike the public figure who was more jovial despite the grimness of the news he covered, his attire was more colder, serious, as if to contrast the sternness that had imprinted itself onto his face. Even his briefcase, the most inoffensive thing that a worker could possibly keep within their possession, almost seemed cold if left alone, coated in jet black with basic grey trimmings.

With serious eyes, the man gazed towards the young woman. At first, he appeared bothered, ticked off by what the woman had said, though soon enough, he simply huffed in discontent before walking forward into the apartment. "Good evening," he said quietly, almost as if to prevent himself from becoming angry at the young woman. Eventually as he moved forward, he stopped not too far from the living room's sofa to stare at the pizza box that laid in front of the crimson-eyed woman onto a small table. "American food again..." he scoffed lightly before turning towards the kitchen. "Your mother told you this morning that she was going to prepare diner tonight. Do you not have any manners?"  

"I wanted pizza tonight. It's been a while since I ordered some, so I ordered some," the young woman replied quickly with a frown already starting to press onto her forehead. "You know Mom makes enough food to have leftovers for days, right?"

The father stood immobile as he considered his daughter's words, the atmosphere around him seemingly become glacial almost instantly. His eyes gazed down towards her with a mixture of disbelief, disappointment and rage. It was very clear that he absolutely could not believe that his child could say something so inconsiderate with such ease. Noticing this, the young woman's frown deepened a little bit further, and soon enough, she merely sighed and looked away. The act was enough to make the father appear sterner still, enough so to force him to calmly put his briefcase onto the floor and clench his fist. "Throw the pizza away and come to the kitchen."

"No. I want to eat this pizza. I don't want Mom's food," The woman asserted then with a deeper frown as she continued to chomp down on her pizza slice. Ugh. Damn it, she had gone too far. She should have just said nothing and let him go to the kitchen. Now he's just going to stand there grumpy and all for the rest of the evening. Another quiet pizza evening ruined by her dad and her big mouth. This is exactly why she does not stay home for very long: there's just no point in doing so, not when the only thing that seems to await her there is this kind of terrible drama. This should really only take place in awful animated shows and annoying sitcoms, not real life where real consequences can unfortunately come out of them.

"I said..." the father's voice slowly growled as he put a hand on the couch. He had done so loudly, with his hand slapping powerfully against the sofa. The hand in question slowly then started growing. It grew at a tranquil pace, enough so for its fingers to grow long and distended. The nails turned into claws which reached the very seat of the sofa, the skin turned from a pale beige to a deep charcoal, and large pores started growing at a rapid pace onto the wrist, palm and knuckles. Soon, cold air started being expelled from the pores to spill ice all over the leather of the couch, prompting the young woman's expression to slowly turn more somber, almost as if she was realizing something. Slowly, she grabbed the remote and closed the television, revealing the reflection of what appeared to be a large distended being of freezing black wearing a long, distended three-eyed mask. "... come... to the kitchen...!"

As the creature's head twitched incessantly and the apartment slowly grew colder and colder, the young woman slowly stood up from the couch. She was holding onto what seemed to be some sort of scabbard as she did so, one clad in white. Frowning, she looked over her shoulder to gaze at the monster, then she looked at the pizza box. It had now grown too cold for its content to be edible any longer. "... No... I'm not coming to the kitchen," she spoke to herself quietly as she gazed at the Hollow while wearing the Shihakusho of the Shinigami. After she said so, she then swiftly rushed towards the monster and slashed at the monster's mask as fast as she possibly could, shortly before the beast too attempted to spread its ice further in her direction.

[Nakajima Kimiko]

Kimiko woke up during the split-second she felt her blade slice the mask of the Hollow in half. She had awoken on her back with her eyes wide open and staring right at the ceiling. Her heart was beating in her chest, and her Spiritual Pressure had risen just as much as it usually does during combat. For a moment, she merely stared at the ceiling with that heart of hers beating into her ears, though soon enough as she realized the nature of the situation, the excitement disappeared and eventually, she simply laid down on her bed with a tired gaze. Another one, huh... her thoughts hummed in her head as she slowly looked over to the side of her bed into the rest of her Academy dorms, then the window. It was morning, just late enough for most of the other beds to be emptied of their occupants. Good. She would not have to risk having to explain her outburst of reiatsu to some of her more spiritually-inclined comrades today. Instead, she could contemplate this moment once more, much like how she has contemplated it before during the last few days.

The student was never one to dream very often. Even while she was Human, it was quite rare of her to dream. At best, back then, she could say that she dreamed once per two or three months, and most of the time, the reason behind its happening was merely high levels of stress typically tied to upcoming examinations. With that in mind, it is thus unsurprising that she also had a habit of forgetting them quite quickly, so much so that their memory would only last for a day at best, and if not, it would only be but a distant blur by the end of the following week that she could barely make sense of. That in of itself was not surprising; after all, what is the point of recalling terrible dreams born from pain and unease? Really, it is always better to think about good dreams than bad ones. Well, that is what the swordswoman tended to believe into, at the very least.

And yet, ever since she confronted that Teresa, the rate at which the student dreamed has dramatically increased. What was once a bimonthly occurrence at best has now become a biweekly basis, and every time she would dream, a Hollow would always be there supposedly waiting for her to eventually slay them. They were always different, and yet, there was always one of a variable shape and size. Some had powers, some were just mindless beasts, and every time they would appear, they often would first resemble people that she had once been in contact with. Unfortunately, Kimiko's father was most often the one form these imaginative Hollows tended to prefer adopting within those dreams, though they also sometimes instead decided to resemble her mother or the people that she once considered friends. Among them was not a single Soul or Shinigami. They were just Humans.

At first, the girl admittedly did not pay any attention to them as she believed everything about it to have been caused by the little bit of trauma she received from her battle with Teresa. The large beast had caused quite the ruckus during that tour, and its presence alone was a disaster for whoever was responsible for the patrols of Karakura Town during that day. That, and it was also then that she the displeasure of seeing that mangled corpse in the clothing store, that one poor Human Teresa devoured, and the dead body of the Shinigami that guided her around the town. She could still remember the sight of bloody flesh and bone staining the floor of that shop, and even now, she wasn't too sure if she was supposed to feel shocked by the fact that she did not care for it as much as she really should. Considering all of these elements combined, the frequency of these Hollow-related dreams were thus not really surprising in theory... and yet the more she experienced them, the more she found herself wondering if they had a deeper meaning.

Slowly then after this long moment of pondering, Kimiko eventually decided to become properly awake. With a quiet sigh, she limply pushed her right leg to the side of her bed, then the left leg, and then she raised her back from the mattress to sit appropriately onto it, pushing away the sheets to reveal the white shirt and black shorts she wore underneath it. After sitting on the bed, she then gazed on the floor absentmindedly as she tried to figure out what she was about to do today. From what she could gather, there really wasn't much she could do in this place any longer: she was no longer a student of Shin'ō Academy and she could technically be considered a proper Shinigami from now on. Nevertheless, it was her final day of vacation here in the academy, and so she was again free to do whatever she wants. For all sense and purposes, she could just stay in the dorms to read books all day and that would be the end of it, but something about this particular day being the last one she was ever going to spend in the Academy kept her from doing that. Since she may never return here, might as well admire the scenery again before she leaves the place.

As such, with a light groan, the young woman would push her back forward to grab her Asauchi - or rather, her Zanpakuto, as it seemed its transformation was now complete - from the floor by the bed before proceeding to put on her Academy robes for one last time, seeing as she would most likely be wearing the signature Shihakusho by tomorrow. Once it was done, she then attached her blade to her obi sash, grabbed one of the books she was currently reading, and then headed off outside of the dorms into the hallways of the Academy. She had no idea of what was awaiting her today, but it probably won't be too terrible so long as she doesn't get to meet the damned teacher she has had so much trouble dealing with lately along the way.

[Nakajima Kimiko]

Ever since Kimiko has joined the Academy, she has been reading books. Every day of the week amidst her training, she would allot her attention onto a single written work grabbed from the library of which she had no access to during her brief time within Rukongai, and if she did not have any, she would purposefully go to said library in her free time to grab one alongside a few more. Although the library did not quite possess any sort of manga from the Living World like she had previously hoped for, it contained both fiction and historical works that she was particularly fond of, so much so that she typically tended to finish them in the matter of a few days at best. A few notable ones that she enjoyed from Shinigami authors were "The Known History of Our Soul Society" by Sakamoto Akira, "A Study on Human Conflicts" by Gino Berlusconi, and "Tales of Swordsmen and Swordswomen" by Gilles Charpentier, but she always tended to read them once and then never read them again. Indeed, despite her liking for books, the student always preferred to read new material and never go back to things she has already seen. However, even so, there was one unique exception to that rule, one that she found to be oddly fitting with her spiritual predicament.

"Bushidō: The Heroic Tales of the Japanese Samurai" was, in hindsight, a simple array of works that have been handwritten by Human authors of old. Each of them, collected by the Shinigami historian Ryan Green, are themselves thorough descriptions of historical Japanese heroics alongside the complete definition of the martial art of Kenjutsu developed by the Japanese. It was also in this collection that could be found the true meaning of the Bushidō code of which samurai had to adhere to, or rather many meanings, for it has been described from head to toe by a multitude of authors each with their own interpretations of it. It was a miracle that such an amount of content was able to be reduced into an abridged pocket edition, as such an enormous content could have easily ended up as an enormous work so heavy that it could not be brought anywhere else but the library a few meters away from the stall it was picked from. Naturally, of course, this meant that not a lot of people were capable of reading it, as the content was so wide that it typically drove away anyone with a little bit of interest in it, and yet Kimiko could not stop reading it.

Over the course of the last two years, the student has read the pocket edition of the work in its ridiculous entirety at least a good number of times. At first, she had only thought herself to be capable of only reading it once, but by the time she was done finishing her first read, she had then started another. By all definition, in no other works did she find such interesting, intriguing content that brought such enjoyment out of her. Every page brought her wonder, every line brought her inspiration. In a way, one could say that she had found her perfect book, her favorite of them all, and there was no way she was going to allow herself to ever forget it. Alongside her blade in training, this book was one of the things that were able to keep her head afloat in this strange spiritual world she has ended up suddenly being a part of, and without it, she may have eventually lost her way. It was just that inspiring to her, that amazing.

As such, it was unsurprising that she thus brought it today on her last day at the Academy. Reading the words within the collection of tales once again was enough to get her to walk out of that bed and into the halls of the institution with enough serenity to eventually move on from her nightmare, as she always tends to do. She moved forward by the crowds of students within the halls without giving them attention and without caring of the noise that came from them as she read, only at times looking away from the pages of her book to gaze at the school once again in calm and tranquility. This was truly going to be the last time she was going to wander these halls, this cafeteria and eventually even the classes as a student of the Academy. Never again will she adorn these robes and never again will she ever have to be taught by one of the instructors here. She wasn't sure what exactly she was supposed to feel about that... but at least her book was there to keep her from questioning herself too much about it.

The student would walk like this for a good while, so much so that she'd lose the track of time at a certain point. Her mind was away from the school at this point and back where the book wanted it to be: in the lands of ancient feudal Japan, in a time of lords and warriors fighting to the death with pride and honor. The academy became a castle and the students around her became trainees and disciples, she herself a disciple soon-to-be declared samurai for the emperor. Her imagination and inspiration ran loose like that for what seemed to be an eternity, enough so for her to put herself in the place of the many men and women who were written about within her book, seeing their battles in her own eyes with joy and excitement. A few minutes became an hour, and an hour became two. If it wasn't for all the leg strength she has built from her training, she would have most likely needed to sit down by that point, and yet she was still walking around the school, this time nearing the courtyard which was currently mostly devoid of any practitioners safe one or two. This was, in a way, a testament to her training, a true display of what she has achieved both with Celes and on her very own. It was an admirable quality of hers, one that should not be misunderstood or underestimated by those who are aware of her.

And much like her dedication to her training, what are also not to be underestimated were the instincts that she has cultivated.

With widened eyes, Kimiko's focus onto her book was abruptly ended as her body automatically reacted to something that had been swung towards the back of her head. The something in question was of a steel color, a familiar one which typically was assigned to a blade of sorts. So she was being attacked. Worse yet, she was being attacked from behind. This prompted the student to clench her teeth in frustration. "Tch!" She would hiss angrily before closing her book, grabbing it with her left hand, then grabbing the hilt of her sheathed blade with her right hand before sliding her right leg clockwise and unsheathing her sword in an horizontal one-handed Iaijutsu strike towards whoever was attacking her. This caused the person that was behind her to stammer with surprise, forced to swiftly back away with all the strength they could muster so as to not get hurt by the young woman's Zanpakuto. Once her move was completed, she'd stand still for a moment as she analyzed what was going on.

What stood before her was a large man. Not large as in fat; rather, large as in tall, muscular, with a huge nodachi for a weapon. His face was squared with sharp edges that made him look intimidating, threatening, which was a feeling that was appropriately accentuated by his even-sharper blue eyes which gave Kimiko a significant glare, and his jet black hair was short, if not a bit spiky. In every shape and form, this man resembled the typical thug you would usually cross by in the wilder parts of Rukongai. He was clearly shaped by violence in every sense of the word... and yet he wore the robes of the Shinigami and a pad over his left shoulder which displayed the insignia of the Eleventh Division. The sight confused the young woman as she could not understand why she was attacked so abruptly during her time of relaxation yet again, though soon enough, this confusion was instead turned into incredulity as the Shinigami spoke:

"Impressive reaction! Just as to be expected from a prodigy!" The man directly complimented the young woman as he looked her over, nodding in approval at the girl's form as he put his immense blade over his shoulder. "You are clearly Kimiko Nakajima, newest member of the Eleventh Division!"

"... What is this about...?" Kimiko growled quietly as she sheathed her blade, but not to show that she was withdrawing from whatever was going on. Rather, she was very clearly about to unleash another Iaijutsu attack.

"My name is Sir Siegfried of Balatoria, decorated knight of the Eleventh Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads!" The man declared loudly across the entire courtyard, enough so to gain the attention of those who were practicing against dummies set about the field, before he then raised the tip of his blade towards the student. "To commemorate your entry into our glorious division, I hereby declare a duel between us both!"

A duel? This giant of a man wanted to duel her? In an instant, Kimiko's frustration for this situation was instead replaced with curiosity followed then by a burst of excitement. This man... She had no idea of who he was supposed to be within the Eleventh Division or if he was even an important person among the Gotei 13, but the prospect of fighting him was already getting her eager to battle him. Slowly, she put her book in one of the pockets of her robes before letting out a sigh, then a grin. "Fine, let's fight... but don't try to hit me in the back again!" She told the man without showing any visible fear to him, then prepared herself for battle.

"I shall not strike you from behind once more! You have my word!" The man responded to her with that loud voice of his before readying herself.

Shortly after, another powerful spar began in the courtyard.

[Nakajima Kimiko]

Upon beginning a battle with an opponent, Kimiko always attempts to analyze them before actually striking them proper. This analysis is a simple one, one that lacks any meticulous information of outrageous detail as it is in fact composed of three principal factors: the name of the opponent, their race, and the weapon that they happen to wield at the time. If the opponent appears to be strong, she will sometimes go beyond those three details to add a few more information to them such as body musculature, the presence of beastly features and any other particular characteristic she may not have accounted for at a first glance. At times, she will take into account the personality of the opponent as well, though if there is something that she has learned over those last two years as a student of the Academy, she has long learned that whatever personality one may have outside of combat will most often completely differ from the ones held during combat. A soft individual may appear extremely cold while wielding blade, all the while a stern individual may instead become more outrageously elegant.

Siegfried of Balatoria. Shinigami of the Eleventh Division, possibly an Seated Officer from the way he previously conversed with her. Wielder of the odachi. Those three details were the ones she noted this time around, and as to be expected, they alone provided quite a fair bit of insight as to what this man was supposed to be. Firstly, the bold declaration of his knightly name of European origin presented the man as a proud being who potentially sees himself as a warrior deserving respect for his deeds, which meant that he has either lived during a time where knights were most respected or he is a cosplaying fool, the latter possibility being an unfortunately-plausible theory. Secondly, his position within the Eleventh Division meant that he was an adept of the sword and therefore a potential specialist in close-combat, which meant that his blade is definitely not to either be underestimated or trifled with. Thirdly, his use of the odachi meant that he prefers to have wide reach and utmost strength over his opponents, thus guaranteeing him a crushing victory against anyone who happen to be weaker than him at the expanse of speed and precision.

Now, usually, those three primordial details would be all more than enough to satisfy Kimiko's expectations. However, as she first came to witness as she crossed blades with the man, she would realize that one  of the three that she has mentally listed were wrong, namely the third.

The man was insanely fast, potentially even faster than she was. His sword swings were not only as wide as you would expect considering his and his weapon's stature, but also swift, prompting the student to often have to dodge. She couldn't tell the many times she's had to duck and bend her body, and at times crouch totally beneath his blade to prevent herself from being cleaved in two. Sometimes, she'd even need to jump away to avoid multiple piercing stabs aimed for her chest. There was no opening to exploit, no obvious way for her to get out of this defensive position: all she could do is keep dodging until she gets a chance to strike back. The problem with that strategy was that she would sometimes be hit by his immense blade. There were no grave injuries received just yet, but those that now soiled her robes were deep enough for her to start shedding blood onto the courtyard and pain onto her mind.

There were a lot of emotions that Kimiko was feeling from this battle. She felt pain, yes, but also fear, anxiety, the agony of defeat drawing nearer with every second she stayed on the defensive... and yet, despite all of that, there was one feeling that overpowered them all: excitement, or rather ultimate joy. What was this? Who is this? How has she never heard of this man? How come Celes has never told her about him? Did she even know of him? The more questions that sprouted in her brain, the more the student wanted to fight this man. Every single swing of his blade brought her excitement further and further up into the stratosphere, and her Spiritual Pressure along with it. She was just vaguely interested before, just gauging the man's skill in an attempt to avoid another disappointment similar to the one she experienced with Shawn, but now she just downright wanted to fight this man, to battle him until they cannot stand any longer.

With that newfound joy now set in stone, Kimiko strayed from the defensive and started being more offensive instead. Aware of her weaker strength, she used her maximum potential to rival his. Her eyes would follow his blade frantically as it continued to be swung towards her in various of ways. Horizontal, diagonal, vertical. Eventually, as the battle went on, the direction stopped mattering. She'd reply to his attacks in kind, delivering more and more Iaijutsu attacks to him. She'd even start employing Shunpo too, just to surprise him a little. Better to finally respond to the man's challenge proper than just letting him swing his oversized blade at her head all day. Once she started, he too started shedding blood, enough so to splatter the school grounds with a few drops here and there. At times, they would near the courtyard walls with their outstanding speed, surprising the onlookers enough to prompt them to run away before Siegfried's sword reaches their throat before crashing into said walls. Each of these crashes would be powerful enough to cause a crack to appear.

"Magnificent form, tremendous speed! This is not just the fruit of training, but also innate talent! What amazing potential!" The man complimented amicably as they fought, seemingly uncaring of the injuries he received from Kimiko's smaller Zanpakuto. It all seemed like a casual thing to him, like he has accomplished so many other spars in such a brutal fashion that all he could care about now was the skill of his opponent and not his. There was a lot of respect in both his words and swordsmanship. His honor was blunt and in full-display. All of those things combined were making the swordswoman happier and happier. This man, this warrior! This is exactly what she wants from her opponents! This is what she wants to see! The Bushido Code, in all of its historic glory, applied to the letter! Applied by one who was perhaps completely unaware of it and its virtues, yes, but nevertheless still applied! This is what true fighting is! This is what a battle should look like: a fight between two warriors respecting one another with both their swordsmanship and pure skill.

"I could say the same to you!" The girl could only respond in her utmost joy as she continued to fight him. Swing after swing after swing they both traded against one another, with Siegfried further damaging the grounds with each attack he threw towards Kimiko. By then, they had both sustained multiple cuts, enough so for blood to have spilled here and there. Onlookers watched in horror at the terrible display brought upon their sight of two bloodied individuals continuing to attack each other. The more this went on, however, the more exhausted Kimiko would at the very least become. She'd continue to use her speed as efficiently as possible, but it was quite clear that she was not going to be able to stand for much longer if she keeps bleeding like this. As excited as she may be and as strangely-powerful the spiritual body of a Shinigami can be, exhaustion will eventually take its toll to anyone who tests their limits too harshly, and naturally, she was no exception to that rule.

And so, with that thought in mind, the girl would keep an eye out on Siegfried's blade before the man would deliver yet another vertical slice that would crash onto the ground below. His swings, much like hers, had slowed down, and so she was given enough time to quickly side-step the hit before sheathing her blade, jumping over onto the dull side of the odachi softly enough as to not split her feet in two, then running forward onto the blade. Her teeth were clenched with strength and determination as she rushed along in her shocking move towards the man's chest, which seemed to even surprise Siegfried who couldn't do a thing but watch as his defenses were utterly broken by such a risky endeavor. "I've got you now!" She let in a war cry before she then jumped over his shoulder while delivering a powerful horizontal Iaijutsu cut right towards his chest.

Kimiko did not quite see the extent of the damage that she had delivered upon Siegfried once she landed on the ground behind him. She did not see the impressive cut that was left on his chest nor the blood that surged from it. She did not witness the man's surprise or heard the compliments that followed him as he prepared his sword once more and turned towards her. No. What she did see was her vision darkening, struggling to remain clear, and her legs shivering from both the exhaustion and the loss of blood that she suffered. She saw drops of the red liquid slowly cover the ground by her feet and the strange patterns that surrounded them in her vision, the patterns that one would see when absolutely exhausted. Eventually, she also saw her legs give way and the ground immediately starting to approach her face at a rapid pace.

By the time her face reached the soil below, she could not see anything any longer.

[Nakajima Kimiko]

A chilly wind flowed through the streets of Akihabara as the sun set into the sky, slowly ridding the horizon of its embracing light. The sky was visibly getting darker and darker, having now become orange rather than blue, and soon, it was clear that it was instead going to adopt a purpler color before then becoming completely dark. As the natural lights dimmed, however, the urban ones that came from the nearby buildings and infrastructure instead started coming to life. Once sunny yellow roads instead became trails of neon as the illuminated billboards shone their advertisements onto them. Some were powerful enough to even cause the gravel of the street to appear almost wet, causing them to reflect a mess of color that some could find unattractive. Fortunately for those who were responsible for the making of these streets, the sheer amount of people walking around onto said streets were enough for them to not be a bother for anyone.

There was a great amount of people walking about the streets of the world-famous district. Some were young men and women enjoying their time together after a long day of unending work, while others were tourists from afar who visibly were only there to engage in the various activities centered around Japanese animation. While the great majority scattered about the streets in search of something to do or were really only there to take a stroll through the district, there seemed to almost be an equal amount of people occupying each building surrounding said streets. Whether it be offices meant solely for proper bureaucracy within a professional environment or popular attractions solely meant to get the attention of those who wish to think about anything else but professionalism, such as restaurants, cafes and theaters. Of course, the grand lot of the latter really only wanted currency more so than anything else, but there were some notable exceptions here and there, namely a particular arcade which stood about a few minutes away from the center of the Akihabara Station.

The fighting game-centered arcade joint simply referred to as Ultra Ban was built many years ago during the more popular days of arcade gaming. It has stood the test of time against many of the giants that have risen and fell around during the last few decades, even against the almighty SEGA buildings, as can be discerned by his less-than-modern appearance alone. Although it was visibly outfitted with the most modern arcade cabinets produced in the last year or two, it was quite clear that the place was nothing more than an old office building from the 80s with all of its desks removed and favor of proper gaming stations. That was not to say that it was a bad thing, however, for it single-handedly possessed some of the more-alluring moods and ambiance of all of the touristic attractions of Akihabara. The music was exciting, bringing energy to the contestants who fought against one another at the cabinets, and there were many lights near the entrance that tried to capture the style of the old days. It was certainly an interesting place to both visit and experience.

Today, Ultra Ban is holding one of its most-packed evenings yet. In an attempt to advertise their newest cabinets, the owner of the joint announced a small-scale local tournament with a prize pool consisting of fair sums of money for the size of the event, gift cards for the arcade and free pocket change for participation. Basically, it was an invitation for those who were still only but casually interested in arcade gaming to try it out and see what's in store for them should they ever be interested. The poster that was installed onto the front windows of the store was enough to gather a few contestants into the shop, with the most of them being teenage boys and young men. Among them was a single young woman in her early twenties. She was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans accompanied with a pair of sneakers, a very masculine style for a woman. She was, to say the least, an outlier in the crowd, even if there were also about one or two other young women around.

The young woman's gaze was confident, as though she was already aware of how she was going to perform in this tournament. A small smile was visible, one of happiness for being in the arcade joint in the first place instead of school or home, and her stature was relaxed, in tune with the rest of the area. She had come on her own without friends or acquaintances, though she soon started speaking with some of the people of the arcade who were not among the people who seemed more infatuated by the arcade's looks than she was. Her speech was quiet, yet friendly and definitely familiar to those she spoke too, as though she knew them and has made friends with them. Even the owner - an older man in his sixties - who stood watch before the arcade cabinets seemed to know her too, at least enough for the both of them to have a pleasant conversation with one another. All in all, she seemed to be here to have fun with the newer crowd.

Eventually, the tournament began and the people of the arcade started playing against one another on the arcade cabinets that were available to them. There were five in total, with each of them possessing their own exciting lights and music, so a total of ten simultaneous matches could be held at the same time. Since the entire tournament was of a smaller-scale, such an amount wasn't necessarily required as the maximum amount that was needed during the tournament was four. Nevertheless, the machine that was free could be used by those who had been eliminated from the tournament as long as they had the Yen to submit to it. At first, there were almost no one at the machine in question, but soon enough as the tournament went ahead, many decided to use it in order to deal with the fact they have been eliminated. The most of them were, of course, eliminated by the young woman who was by now starting to prove that she was one of the strongest fighters around.

So far, she could say that she was having a fair bit of fun. She was playing at her best even against the beginners, showing them how intricate and complex a fighting game could be in the hands of someone who was more aware of the mechanics than they were. One could say that such a sentiment was a bit mean and diminutive, but she saw it all as a learning experience rather than a mockery. Fighting games are cruel, unforgiving, and most of all, difficult. Hand-holding is a viable option for veterans to use against beginners, but it would ultimately not lead the beginners anywhere. A beating is what begets the most experience, for they can learn of both their mistakes and some of the more difficult things a more-experienced player can throw at them in a serious match. With that in mind, she thus beat player after player, advancing through each rounds of the tournament with both pride and accomplishment in her heart. It was only once she reached the finals that these feelings were eventually replaced with... another.

Her competitor, at first, appeared normal with long crow-black hair covering the side of their face. They were as tall as her and seemingly wearing glasses, but their figure was shadowed by the sudden lack of lights over their position. Not even the lights from the machine seemed to reflect enough on their person for the young woman to identify them, which caused her to pause for a moment with an incredulous stare. Eventually, however, she gave no more attention to them and instead turned towards the arcade cabinet's screen. "So... what's your tag?" She asked the shadowed individual with a friendly smile as though to create banter, though she received no response or at least not one that she was able to hear clearly. Confused, she almost wished to ask again, but before she could even do that, her opponent had already reached the character select screen of the game they were about to play, prompting her to choose her own. She was surprised to see that her opponent decided to take her character as well since she was one of the harder characters of the game, though she paid no mind to it.

The battle then began. For the first few seconds of the starting round, the young woman found herself attacking relentlessly with a keen analytical eye, basically like any other battle she has fought so far. However, as it all went on, she found herself soon frowning in confusion. Her opponent was strong... irregularly so. Their tactics were strange and unconventional, almost unfitting for the character they were playing, and yet they always led to amazing attacks soon followed by great damage. At times, she'd think she would have the upper hand, but then the entire advantage she had been building up to that point would suddenly be reversed. There never seemed to be a time where she truly felt she was remotely safe from the irregular assaults of her opponent, so much so that her mind eventually started asking questions. Who was this person? How were they able to play like this with such mastery over the game? How was it that she has never heard of them before?

As the battle went on, the lights around them slowly started fading away as the young woman's entire focus centered around the game now. Block, block, block... No, kick, crouch kick, slash! No, block again! She was so focused onto the game that she could not realize that the entire world around her seemed to be disappearing from existence. The Akihabara district, the arcade, the people within the arcade, slowly voided into darkness. Her breath quickened with a stress unbeknownst to her only a few minutes ago. It was like there was a grip around her heart pushing her away from victory, almost keeping her away from it, all the while her opponent remained simply silent in their darkness. The health bars of their characters neared zero, having almost gone from a full green to a complete stark red, and eventually... as time almost ran out and the round was about to end, their characters rushed forward into a quick dash before delivering a slash to their chests. The two of them fell at once, causing an immediate draw that shot the both of them back to the main menu of the game.

This predicament made the young woman stare at the screen in confusion. A draw...? How is this possible? The game cannot end on a draw! Confused and perhaps a tad frustrated, she attempted to press the buttons again in an attempt to call for a rematch, though soon, she acquiesced and turned towards her opponent. "Well... that was a good game," she said then with a light and tired tone, as though she was recovering from a terrible thing she could barely understand. In contrast, her opponent remained still, not providing the young woman with any answer. This caused her to stare at the figure with a frown. "Uh... Are you okay?"

"Absolutely," the figure's words suddenly boomed from the figure before they then turned and thrust something towards the young woman's throat. She barely had any time to react; in an instant, her throat was pierced by object, which appeared to be a katana of sorts. As blood gauged from her wound, she gasped as her hands reached for the blade. The being kept holding the sword in position as the young woman quite literally choked on it, with its hair still blocking its face from view. All that she could see through the veil of black was one single eye of pure white. "Hmph... Think of this as a taste of what's to come, Kimiko-chan~."

More words came after the latter, but before the young woman could hear any more of them, shadow became light, and both the arcade and the figure disappeared.

[Nakajima Kimiko]

When Kimiko opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the wooden ceiling in silence for a moment. She wasn't at first too sure of where she currently was, but she could tell that she was lying on a bed and has been doing so for quite some time now. For how long, she couldn't tell right away, but judging by the sunlight that she could perceive onto the aforementioned ceiling, she could conclude that it was still daytime. Groaning, she slowly rose from the bed to sit upon it in order to chase away the grogginess in both her mind and body, then rubbed her eyes with two of her fingers. Another dream... she thought to herself quietly then as she stared down at the bed sheets. As to be expected now, her dreams were still horrible. She couldn't explain the meaning behind the one her brain just conjured, but she could definitely recall the lack of breath she had felt upon being stabbed by that... thing, whatever it was. It was just like back then, back when she had been stabbed by her murderer, and it had felt just as awful as the real deal. Not even the last one before it was this bad, or at least judging by the bits of it that she could still recall up until this point in time.

Well, at least it was over. Thinking about it now when she's in a place that she is unaware of is not going to do her any good. As such, with a light groan, she pushed the bed sheets away and properly started analyzing the area. From the looks of it, the room resembled the one which she saw house Celes while she was being treated by some of the people of the Fourth Division after their training against Dummy Hollows. It was a very clean, yet small room with two beds and a drawer by their side which held a vase of flowers. There was also a window on the wall nearest to the beds which displayed a road of the Seireitei, and just as she had once concluded, it was indeed daytime outside, judging by the fact that the walls of the Seireitei were still just as blindingly-white as usual. Oddly enough, though, she couldn't quite tell whether or not it was morning or the afternoon, which was odd since it clearly was the latter back when she was still at the Academy before.

Considering that she currently sported no wounds in the slightest, she eventually started wondering why she was even here in the first place, though the memories slowly started to come back as she recalled what happened in the Academy's courtyard. The attack from behind, the presence of that man, the exhilarating battle that then ensued... Yes, now she remembers. She also could now remember how it ended, and for a moment, she simply sat there trying to understand the outcome of the battle. Had she won? Had she lost? It did not even seem like either outcome was necessarily to be ignored. On one hand, one could say that she had lost the battle through and through, seeing as she blacked out for what she could vaguely remember to be blood loss. On the other hand, she has learned many things from that fight, things that she believed will be able to bring her forward. Time passed quietly as she wondered about such things, going from seconds to at least a few minutes, and by the time it had almost become a dozen of minutes, the door to the room opened, prompting her to look up towards it.

"Ah, I see that you have finally awoken from your slumber!" A familiar voice spoke as the door opened, revealing the large figure of the Shinigami who defeated her, the almighty Siegfried of Balatoria. It was good that the door was large, for his stature visibly made it a bit difficult to go through it. If he would have been carrying his sword, there was no way he could have fitted his entire body appropriately. As he entered, Kimiko's gaze would follow his movement as he let himself sit on the chair nearest to her bed. She could tell that the man hadn't stayed in these barracks as long as she did, since he was not sporting the wounds he had before and was also much less tired than she previously was. She could also tell that he was happy to see that she was okay, judging by his satisfied smile and overall demeanor. "My apologies for the confusion that you may have experienced upon your awakening. Our injuries coerced me into bringing us both to the barracks of the Fourth Division."

So he carried her here so that they could both be tended to, huh? That wasn't a bad thing at all in Kimiko's mind. Given the character of a few Shinigami officers she has had the displeasure of passing by within the streets of Soul Society every once in a while, he could have just left her there at the courtyard. "... Thanks," she expressed politely with a light sigh. By that point, she had somewhat completely recovered from her grogginess. "That... little spar of ours really was something, huh?"

"Indeed, it was quite the demonstration!" He agreed with a wider smile as he rested against the chair. The fact that such a small thing was somehow able to sustain him was nothing short of a miracle. "Never before have I ever fought such a promising soldier! Not even I was this prodigious back when I first enrolled in the Academy!"

"I... I was alright," she tried her best to be humble about it, though it only prompted an amicable chuckle from the Shinigami which only made her smile to herself in return. Not even a single word from him was necessary for her to understand the meaning behind his laughter. Although she had lost against him, his attitude was somehow able to keep her from feeling too bad about her defeat, which was honestly something that was a miracle in of itself. There is only so much that humility can bring to you before it eventually starts making you appear denigrating to your own skills, after all, and she had fared very well against this person who was most likely fighting seriously this whole time. Well, at least he had fought seriously enough to consider her a worthy opponent.

"Ah, in any case, I have come here to greet you, for it is today that you will begin attending your duties an officer of the Eleventh Division!" Siegfried said before he suddenly, somehow, pulled something from his back and gave it to Kimiko, which caused her to stare at whatever was given to her with a blink of surprise. What she held were the robes of the Shinigami - the Shihakusho - which had been folded and taken care enough quite well. It seemed as though it had been tailored recently too. Holding them in such a way in such a place was strange to her, almost as if the dream from before was still somehow ongoing. Her, a proper Shinigami... Even though she was aware that she was to begin her time within the Eleventh Division shortly, it was still a bit surreal for her to understand how quickly she had grown. It had only been two years, and yet she was now a Shinigami proper just like those she has met. It sure will be different from the Academy.

After that slight bit of honeymoon passed, however, she'd pause and comically frown in confusion for a moment before looking up towards the Shinigami. "Wait, what do you mean, today?" She asked then and there rapidly, enough so to cause the officer to blink.

"Why, it is today that you are to begin your attendance," he reiterated before his expression too became more comical. "Ah, yes! I was just about to tell you!"

"Please just get out, I need to get dressed!" Kimiko shouted quickly as she realized that she was going to be late the more this interaction went on. God damn it, she hadn't fallen unconscious for an hour or two: she has fallen unconscious for a whole damn day! If the schedule of a Shinigami officer is just as demanding as a student's, then she might already be late for her first day on the job! As Siegfried quickly scampered out of the room so as to let Kimiko put on her Shihakusho, the young woman put on the robes quickly. Since she was in such a rush, she completely omitted any care she might have had for how comfy the robes were, how well they fitted on her person, and the fact that the pocket book she once held in her Academy robes was in the pockets of these robes. None of that mattered in that specific moment. The very moment she was done putting them on, she rushed out of the room practically kicking the door open in the process in such a way that it temporarily traumatized a passing medic, then rushed into the hallway as quickly as she could alongside Siegfried. "Where's my Zanpakuto?!" She asked him as they rushed through the hallway with comically-widened eyes and teeth clenched with stress.

"Your Soul Cutter is kept at the entry hall!" The larger Shinigami called, prompting the two to then downright rush through the hallways of the Fourth Division's barracks. They did with such speed that the medics they passed by screamed in shock and surprise by the blur of black that blitzed by them towards the entry hall where their weapons were kept behind a counter by a single man. Once they reached him, the man slowly opened his eyes to stare at the both of them, left out a heavy sigh at the fact that they allowed themselves to face what seemed to be a terrible situation, then went to calmly pick the two swords held behind him before giving it to them. "Many thanks, young man!" Siegfried immediately expressed before the two officers then rushed out the door in a comical fashion.

And with that, it seemed that Kimiko's career within the Eleventh was already off to quite a stressful start. It is unclear how the rest of her days at the Division will look like, but so far, there is at least one thing she can definitely say about it all: she will definitely never allow herself to be late again! Never!

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I counted 61 paragraphs, so that'll be 305 TP to spend as you please~! Great choice in music, by the way!