To Serve and Protect

[Benjiro Hiroto]

As obscenities escaped Benjiro's lips, his uncharacteristic use of curses filled the air, mingling with the clash of steel and the tension of the battle. His Bakudo, meticulously crafted with hopes of restraining the avian Arrancar, proved futile, mere wisps of energy dissipating into nothingness. It was an unsettling realization that his efforts, his progress and his rapid development thus far had all been for naught when put up against overwhelming power. But in a surprising turn, his insults seemed to have the opposite effect. The avian halted in its tracks, panic glimmering in its eyes, as if his words struck a nerve, igniting a fiery rage within.

The avian lunged forward with unparalleled speed, catching Benjiro off guard. The intensity of the killing intent radiating from the Arrancar sent shivers down his spine, a surge of fear coursing through his veins. In that moment, he faced the harrowing possibility of his own demise, the cycle of reincarnation looming before him, threatening to erase everything he had become... Was that so bad? Resignation settled within him, accepting the will of the universe to sacrifice himself, to shield Munemasa-san and Satoshi-san from harm. It was noble and just to die for one's comrades... right?

His arms slowly rose, a somber embrace of death that seemed inevitable. Yet, a glimmer of hope emerged as Munemasa-san unleashed the power of her awakened Shikai, causing the Arrancar to stumble. A flicker of anticipation danced within Benjiro's heart, symbolized by the silver praying wheel wielded by Munemasa-san. However, the respite was brief, shattered by the forceful impact of the Arrancar's fists colliding with his temple, too fast for the man to react. Pain reverberated through his head, fleeting but excruciating, leaving him dazed and concussed, his senses in disarray.

In that disorienting moment, death loomed closer, a specter lingering on the edge of his consciousness. But just as despair threatened to consume him, Munemasa-san's spiritual energy coursed through his battered body, washing away the pain and confusion. Miraculously, his injuries began to mend, sealing shut as if time itself had reversed. And in that fleeting window of recovery, Benjiro's hazy mind recognized Satoshi-san's powerful swing, the resounding clash of her own Shikai, drenched in the deep scarlet hues of blood.

Though still a little disoriented, Benjiro knew he had to contribute, to aid his comrades in this crucial moment. With determination fueling his actions, he reached out, desperately grasping for any part of the Arrancar—a foot, a wing, anything that would disrupt its onslaught, even if just for a fraction of a second. And as if guided by instinct, a single word escaped his lips, carrying the weight of his resolve: "Haihin." This was a seal, a chance to actually hinder the Avian in case it attempted to counter attack Satoshi-san. He felt his soul impart itself on the Arrancar's body, leaving a mark that would imbibe the feeling of numbness and acceptance. May the Arrancar accept Satoshi-san's attack. 


Reiatsu: 550/1000
-25 Haihin 

Munemasa Iroka Satoshi Fuuko

[Munemasa Iroka]

To say the potoo Arrancar was at his wits' end was an understatement. Even as he realized that underestimating these three Shinigami was a mistake that would cost him big time, the Arrancar decided that the most dangerous person present was the one that could recover the damage dealt to his foes. For if his foes kept recovering, would they not keep on fighting? For his own part, he had no healing powers, nor colleagues he could rely on. Perhaps being so strong but alone was no longer as advantageous as he had thought it would be.

Perhaps he was beginning to realize that even if he was the most intelligent person in the room, each of the three Shinigami he faced had their own unique versions of cunning that had, to his utmost surprise, gained the advantage over him, and advantage that would cost him. The blonde was the most dangerous of them, but he had been sure that he could overpower her with his physical prowess. The others were not supposed to have been so much of a threat. Okay, maybe the carrot-top, with her insults and newly-released zanpakutou. But the most surprising of them all had to be the giant. He'd imagined all this while that Benjiro was going to be quiet and well-behaved. He was wrong.

Not only had the giant taken a page out of the annoying ginger's book, but he had also managed to, in an impressive feat of resilience, tank the Arrancar's punch. Sure, that would have nearly killed him without Iroka's interference, but that he could still muster his faculties to cast a spell on the Arrancar, who was trying to defend against Fuuko's sudden attack, was amazing... no! It wasn't! He, the potoo Arrancar, was the smartest fellow in the room. He would defend against the blonde's attack, and ignore all insults, while focusing on destroying her. Once done, he would crush the other two with no effort whatsoever. He just needed his next technique to work.

Except it didn't. Even as he realized Fuuko was attacking behind him, the Arrancar had tried to crouch, drawing his wings together, with the pinions glowing brightly, before Benjiro's spell took effect and the brightness abruptly faded. Whatever he had been trying to do would never be known, as the blonde Shinigami's upward swing cut clean through both wings and, due to the awkwardness of his crouching position, take off an arm and inflict a large wound to his neck. It was clear that the potoo had sacrificed trying to dodge and thus reduce the surface area in contact with Fuuko's blade, for what he had intended to do before Benjiro's meddling. A lesser creature would have been killed on the spot, but not him. He couldn't die just yet.

"Damn you! Damn you all!" the Arrancar cursed, staggering away from Fuuko, as he realized to his terror that he was not bleeding normally. He was shedding gallons! He held out a hand, the only hand he had remaining, and an ominous red light began to gather at the fingertips of his stretched-out hand, which was aimed at Fuuko. And then with a bathetic croak, the avian Arrancar crashed to the ground and moved no more, his lifeblood pooling around his fallen form. He was dead.

After an unavoidable health check and healing session by Iroka (who simply would keep running in front of whomever she intended to heal until they settled down and let her perform her duties), the three Shinigami would, after a bit of searching, find a storage room in which the unconscious form of a bald-headed Shinigami with a prosthetic arm lay. From all descriptions and indications, that was Kajou, the fellow they were supposed to find. Also strewn across the room were a host of doodads and gizmos which were obviously branded with the Junibantai logo. "Ara ara," Iroka said, her eyes lighting up on seeing the various thingamajigs strewn about. "Maybe we can... take inventory of the items, ne?"

Of course, taking inventory would make no sense, as the Shinigami hadn't even really been told what to recover, aside the not-so-descriptive word: 'equipment'. Whichever the case, Benjiro and Fuuko would notice there was a Sharpie marker in Iroka's hand, and she was already squatting beside the unconscious Kajou, the marker unerringly moving towards his bald pate. Even though he seemed unresponsive, he was obviously in good health, something Iroka had quickly picked up on, just by giving him a cursory look. Well, since he was alright, someone had to teach him not to go napping in enemy territory.

Satoshi Fuuko Benjiro Hiroto

[Satoshi Fuuko]

*Glug glug glug glug glug~*

Fuuko could practically hear Shkketsubuki making a loud, guzzling sound as the blood seeped into Fuuko's glowing blade after she bifurcated the arrancar's arm and sliced open the neck in a way that it spurted blood like some kind of b-movie. "Shit..." Fuuko watched in amazement as the blood spewed out and then turned and flowed into Shukketsubuki, which seemed to glow bright red in Fuuko's hands. 'Are ya gonna get bigger than the fuckin room!!?" She asked. "We're ... kinda done here." 

'Oh, you can seal me. Just make sure you-" 

Immediately, Fuuko held out her hand and the glowing monolith was back to being a regular katana. She turned it and was about to put it in her sheathe when she heard Shukketsubuki's voice ring out in her head. 

'WAIT! Anego, you gotta..." There was a pause. 'I'm full...'

Yeah, no shit. What do ya gotta pee  or somethin?" Fuuko said, rolling her eyes. She looked at the other two. "There shouldn't be anymore attacks. If everyone's ok, we should find Kajou." She said. 

'NOT EXACTLY! This is embarrasin to explain in front of other people! Listen, just flick me, ok?" 

Fuuko sighed. "There ain't even blood on it. Why are ya such a baby?!" Fuuko said as she raised her katana and flicked it. Immediately, gallons of blood spewed out of the katana. Fuuko's eyes watched. It was definitely as much as she had been holding in Shikai. 

*Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu~uuuuuuuuurp! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh~* "Thanks, Anego! I feel great now!" 


Fuuko's eye twitched and she blushed as she looked at the other two. With a sigh, she shook her head. "Welp." Fuuko walked over to Benjirou and gave his shoulder a slap. "Let's hope when you get yer shikai, they ain't a thing  like ya. Good work, though." Fuuko smiled and looked at Iroka. "You too, sis! What a cool release!" 

After taking a moment to look around the bloody mess of a room, Fuuko shook her head one more time. "I'll send for a senkaimon. Kajou's either around or dead, but either way, we need some help draggin his shit back to Soul Society or bringin in actual guards if he plans on stayin here." 

Thankfully, Kajou was found and the rest of the operation went off without a hitch. 

[Benjiro Hiroto]

As the final strike descended upon the avian Arrancar, its piercing screams of agony pierced the air, intertwining with the crimson splatters of blood that painted the battlefield. The violent spectacle unfolded before Benjiro's weary eyes, and a conflicting surge of emotions washed over him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the brutality of it all, the clash of steel and the cries of pain. It was a stark contrast to the teachings of compassion and non-violence that he held dear as a practitioner of Buddhism. Yet, in the chaos of battle, sometimes violence became an unavoidable necessity.

Exhaustion settled upon Benjiro like a heavy shroud, weighing down his weary body. He tried to rise, his muscles protesting against the strain they had endured. The adrenaline that had fueled his every move began to dissipate, leaving behind an overwhelming weariness. It was as if every bone and sinew ached with the effort exerted during the fierce confrontation. But amidst the fatigue, a flicker of relief ignited within him.

His gaze turned towards Kajou, the unconscious Shinigami they had come to rescue. Relief washed over him as he beheld the fallen comrade, knowing that their mission had been a success. It was a momentary respite from the tumultuous battle that had unfolded, a glimmer of solace amidst the chaos.

Meanwhile, Munemasa-san busied herself, meticulously taking inventory of the spoils of war. Her excitement over the newfound technology mingled with the lingering scent of violence in the air. Satoshi-san, ever enigmatic, interacted with her Shikai, a river of blood flowing forth with a flick of her wrist. Her friendly chide at hoping the gentle giant's Shikai was nothing like the perverted persona she assumed he had. "Yes, and I hope that my Shikai is not as temperamental as yours, Satoshi-san. Still, thank you for saving me." A smile fell upon his weary face. The scene unfolded around Benjiro, but his weary body and pounding headache demanded respite.

Seating himself on the ground, Benjiro allowed the fatigue to consume him. He closed his eyes, seeking a moment of calm amidst the storm that had raged within and without. The echoes of battle gradually receded, replaced by the rhythmic throb of his own heartbeat and the gentle whispers of his faith. In the depths of his exhaustion, he found solace in the tranquility that Buddhism offered, a sanctuary where he could reflect and find peace amid the trials of the world. It was in this sanctuary that he felt a profound sadness and disappointment, followed by a pain in his sword hand. Unknowingly, he gripped the hilt of his Zanpakuto, the prayer beads wound tightly around his wrist. 

"It has been an honor to serve with the both of you. I... am tired."

[Munemasa Iroka]

MISSION COMPLETED!!!

[Ludwig Verrlicht]

Alright I'll be grading ya'lls thread. Which btw, congrats on finishing an adventure. Very spicy, very nice.

Fuuko and Benjiro both get 800 TP and 8,000 Ryo. 200 TP per page. Ya'll hit 4. 5x the TP earned for Ryo.


As for Munemasa, given you're the DM you get 500 TP per page. Thus, you earn 2,000 TP and 20,000 Ryo.