Senshi Battles the Pink Robots (Akira and Senshi JT)

[Akira Hinosai]

The world was ending. Judgement day was fast approaching, whether it be in a month's or a year's time. All of the distractions, the self-delusions, the frivolous shit no longer brought Akira any comfort. The world was ending, but he was the only one who could see it. That was the worst part. Unseated officers still joked around, wasted their time drinking sake after hours, because none of them had inner hollows to deal with. The world went on, despite Akira's crisis. That was the worst part. The sun still rose and set at the same times it had before his vision quest. He still had the same obligations as third seat of squad 12.

Everything was the same as it had always been. Akira had to keep acting like that was true. After all, if anyone found out about his nature as a vizard, he was done for. Hell, everyone he associated with was done for. His commanding officers would be disgraced, and he'd be exiled from yet another realm with nowhere to go. When Akira had started his new life as a shinigami, he knew what would eventually happen. He knew vizards were killed on sight. It had all seemed so harmless before his inner hollow had awoken. After all, Akira was a born liar. It seemed like it would be fun. Hiding his superpowered dark side from the world, only releasing it when the stakes were high enough.

Those were romantic days. When he could afford to be concerned with matters of friendship and his new social life. Now, there was no one who could save him. No one but himself. Even now, Benny, Iroka, Fuuko, and the others were off having fun. They could afford to. This was their place. They belonged in the soul society. Akira? He didn't belong anywhere. It wasn't fair! In a fit of rage, Akira slammed his hand against his desk, only succeeding in injuring himself. Oh right. He really had to remember he couldn't break shit as easily anymore. He grabbed his wounded hand and screamed. "OWWWWWW! FUCK!"

Akira's display did not go unnoticed, as the sliding door to his work room slid open. "Sir...Are you alright?" a sheepish voice called from the door frame. "Yeah, yeah, go away." Akira didn't have time for unseated plebs. He was an officer, not their equal! As the sliding door slid shut again, Akira thought better of his dismissal. "Wait." Akira looked up at the rando in the door frame. "Enter, take a seat." The boy was a posterchild for squad 12, in that he was a total nerd. A wisp of a boy with bad teeth, mousy brown hair and glasses. A total nerd. "There may be some way you can help me." The boy's eyes lit up. "Oh...how, sir?"

Akira motioned to the stack of paperwork laying on the desk. "I seem to have injured my writing hand. I'll need you to pick up where I left off." Akira could sense the boy had some objections. Before the nerd could so much as get a word in, Akira placed his pointer finger over the boy's lips in the international sign for "stop talking". Akira shushed him for good measure. "I get it. I really do. You're thinking if this is ethical or not, and I can tell you it most certainly...isn't. But it doesn't matter. This paperwork is bullshit anyway. It's about disposal of test subject fodder, not the goings on of a blacksite. My signature's on there a few times. Just...forge it, then do what the paperwork says to do, and it'll be over before you know it." Akira removed his finger from the boy's face. "Sir...are you sure I won't get in trouble?" Akira laughed. Being third seat certainly came with its perks.

"Trouble? Don't be stupid. They barely even check this stuff anyway. Hey, do this for me and I can put in a good word for you with command. I happen to have the Captain's ear on certain matters." Akira smiled. He could see on the boy's face this was totally working. "Alright, I'm going to the infirmary. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Akira swiftly made his way out of the room before the boy could change his mind. "Oh, one more thing, if someone asks what you're doing, say I told you to do it." One last safeguard in case the kid got into some actual trouble, as unlikely as that was. "Anyway, byeeee!"

Akira closed the door behind him and all but ran outside. Fate had given him a reprieve from his duties. He put on his sunglasses and walked out into the greater seireitei. Morning dew had yet to evaporate from the greenery, and the sun had yet to reach full force, leaving the air somewhat pleasant. Anything was possible. Anything at all. Akira let the wind carry him where it would as he tried to think how he was going to make use of this golden opportunity. There had been a time not so long ago where he cooked up an ingenious plot to get trained by Squad 5's lieutenant. As...eccentric as the girl was, Akira couldn't deny that she'd been extremely useful to him.

That had seemed so long ago, when he was a squad 12 grunt, tending the hell butterflies and cleaning test tubes. He had come to her a beggar, armed with a falsified message from Ken'ichi. Now, he was one step below a lieutenant himself. He could afford to set his sights higher this time. He could be as audacious as he dared. A captain! He could be trained by a captain! Caution was no longer a luxury he could afford. He had an inner hollow to excise from his soul. He had rivals to surpass. He had a zanpakuto that needed wrangling. So it had to be a captain, but which one? Akira had seen most of them from a distance before.

Aramis was too close to home, Celes seemed a bit too wise for her own good. Kimiko seemed like she would actually just kill Akira. Come to think of it, maybe he would be better going at this alone, or with a lieutenant. Just as he was prepared to run an assessment of the lieutenants, he had a breakthrough. There was one captain, who Akira only knew by reputation. Head of the Shinigami's Internal Revenue service. Despite Akira's distaste for paying taxes, she did seem a worthy candidate for him to approach. There were rumors about her. There were rumors about every high ranking official in the seireitei, but her rumors were of a different sort. It was said she more resembled a lost little puppy more than she did a captain.

Of course, it was all bullshit. They don't let just anyone be a captain, and appearances could often be deceptive. But out of all the captains she seemed the most...approachable. Least likely to find out Akira's secret by looking at him, least likely to kill him in a sparring match, and most likely to have some new ideas he couldn't find in squad 12. Tax Lady, here I come. Akira ran off in search of this mysterious tax collector. By now, he knew his way around the seireitei. He could tell the difference between squad 8 and squad 1 by scent alone. Well, maybe not exactly, but he was still pretty good at navigating this place.

Akira jogged his way to the slice of the seireitei belonging to squad 8. Akira was glad he didn't carry any money on him, lest the tax vultures steal it from him. He waltzed his way into the place he assumed the captain's quarters would be and knocked on the door. If allowed entrance he would bow his head in respect. "Captain Odayakama. Pardon the intrusion. I am Akira Hinosai, Third Seat of Squad 12. I...apologize for the timing of this request, but its virtue is in its speed. I was wondering...if you needed a new disciple, and perhaps would indulge me with your tutelage?" He flashed a winning smile, hoping to win the captain's good graces. "It would be a great honor to be trained by one of your...stature."

[Senshi Odayakama (Crimson.)]

Time passed and it did not pass for anyone. In the case of Odayakama Senshi, the captain of the eighth division, she had modeled it into a Shinigami reserve division to provide reinforcements and extra forces to various tasks, but also retained its financial duties. As a result, Senshi would debate that the eighth division was one of the most populous and diverse of all divisions in the Gotei Thirteen. For within it, there were many who lacked vision or knowledge on what they sought to pursue; what division best suited them.

When the door was slowly knocked upon to Senshi's personal office? "Please. Come in." Senshi called out with a regal grace. The office in question looked nice. With dark smooth wood furniture and a softwood floor. Behind her stood a long caligraphy scroll with the kanji for "Prosperity" written upon it. Her desk was ornate and neatly lined with documentations, though far less than what one might imagine. That might have been a surprise.

However, the biggest surprise would come from the person sitting behind the desk in the tall leather back chair. A short pale skinned woman with shining cerulean eyes and hair that was as red as blood. Her cheeks seemed rosy and cheerful, and what might have been a big surprise was her youthful expression. Though it was irrefutable. This was the Captain of the Eighth Division. Odayakama Senshi. Akira Hinosai was the introduction. A seated officer of the twelfth division. The third seat at that. She was of course perplexed.

"Welcome, and there is no need to apologize. I've always left it open that I've no qualms with training others. Whether it be academy students or those senior officers in any division." Smiling with her eyes closed, she might have seemed jovial and relatively laid back. Slowly sliding her seat back, she reaches to her table and grasps her sword. Though it wasn't just any sword. It was a long katana. One that was nearly as tall as she was. Considering Senshi stood at around 5'2", it was curious.

"I can indulge you with training and knowledge. I can impart onto you my experience. Though whether or not you'd choose to be my disciple? That is your decision. Hinosai-San. As she came to stand? He might realize how odd she must have been for an individual. For her outfit was a size or two too large, tied to her body with a sash, and the sleeves seemed too large or long for her arms. Standing next to the large blade in question, held to her chest, it might have made her look juvenile.

"Might I ask. What kind of knowledge do you seek today? I'm well versed in Kido and the spiritual arts. Though. If you're seeking other knowledge. I might be able to help you there also." It was rumored in terms of raw destructive power, Senshi's Zanpakutou was the sharpest blade in all of the Seireitei. People in the eighth division had heard stories of how her own Shikai had threatened to destroy July Kasumi'Oji Taicho's Bankai. A feat that made her blade an enigma, but also something to be feared.

Perhaps her charge had heard of that himself.

[Akira Hinosai]

It took a great deal of willpower for Akira to keep a straight face. It was harder still not to say anything. He knew this girl was a captain, and was powerful enough to vaporize him in an instant if she had the inclination, but that only made it funnier. She was tiny, shorter than Akira. She looked younger than him too. The best part was that they had decided to put her in a robe sized for a normal human being, and gave her a fucking odachi. It was as though the Captain Commander or whoever was making a joke at her expense she didn't quite seem to get. As absurd as it was, she did look like a captain. The fact she managed that while looking like she did was nothing short of a miracle.

She wasn't a lost puppy at all. Even Akira could see that. Her response was warm, polite, and formal. A perfect counter and riposte to Akira's opening move. Maybe she was just like that all the time. That required further study. For now, Akira had to do his next move. "I may have gotten ahead of myself asking to be your disciple..." Akira rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. It was the perfect display of innocent awkwardness that seemed to disarm people. He had figured "disciple" meant a martial pupil, but maybe that wasn't a universal interpretation. He could think of nothing he'd rather do less than be the personal assistant to a tax collector, learning accounting instead of asskicking.

"As much as your kido knowledge interests me...I would like to study Zanjutsu under you. It would be a great honor." Captains all had bankai. Clearly they all knew something about the art of perfect soul communion with one's blade. Besides, Akira had already been trained in kido. If he wanted an edge, he'd have to diversify a little. Versatility was not overrated. It was possible that, whatever his zanpakuto did would allow him to break the mental block seemingly preventing him from fighting worth a god damn. Sure, he was still physically weak as shit, but brute force wasn't all there was to zanjutsu. This girl had to understand that considering her less than impressive physique.

"So, what's first on the agenda? I'll do whatever is required of me!" Akira asked, barely managing to hide his excitement at learning from a captain.

[Senshi Odayakama (Crimson.)]

"Zanjutsu." She said the word, as she tilted her head up into the air in consideration. Before she nodded her head. "Understood." Curving back from her seat, she did scantily little more than guide him to follow her. Out through the fineries of the halls, and the ornate and clean nature of the bank where various officers spoke about the values and rising costs, as well as financial actions taken. Senshi was good at her job. Incredibly so when it came to the management of funding, as well as cutting down on frivolities and corruption.

After all, measures needed to be taken to make Seireitei's economic power seem more or less endless. This meant cooperation from the nobility, business, as well as other affairs. This meant leans and audits. Though to assume that the Captain of this division was inept in anything but that duty? That was a foolish venture. Soon, they would find themselves in a clear training ground. Dummies and logs were scattered about them, but most of it was largely free and open space. Small pebble stones linger below their feet.

"You want to learn the way of the sword. Then I'll show it to you." It was in the next moment, she flicks her thumb along her tsuba, her blade drawing with a flick as it spins. Before she grasps it in her hand, the blade pointing downward towards the ground in a vertical angle. "Extend above the heavens and fly..." The spiritual pressure begins to rapidly grow in the area. The wind blows harshly, and the stones begin to scatter before her feet. A testament to her spiritual power. 

"Shonin Joka." The laughing monk with its head pointed to the sky. Her blade glowed a hot crimson color. The long blade beginning to shrink down and condense. For what was previously a five foot long sword had now reduced to that of a closer to standard three feet. A red tassle ribbon hanging along its guard. Though otherwise? It looked completely normal. Average in every way. Senshi's eyes seemed colder all of a sudden. More focused and narrowed, as she swings her blade outwards towards her left. Before slowly gazing ahead at him.

"I don't boast to be the greatest swordsman in Seireitei." She said truthfully. However, within the next moment? She does say something that ight have been rather chilling. How long had it been since she'd called upon her partner like this she wondered? How long had it been since she'd used her Shikai. "You'd best show me the best of what you can do. And be wary. This blade has broken two Bankai now..." 

[Akira Hinosai]

The wind lashed at Akira as though he were facing down a hurricane all by himself. No, it's not like that. It is that! Senshi stood in the eye of the storm. She stared at Akira with cold, unfeeling eyes. All the while , her blade folded in on itself, glowing baleful red light like some comet heralding the end times. Akira had chosen Senshi because she didn't seem likely to kill him. Fuck! Is it too late to ask Kimiko for some lessons? He had a feeling that it was. He'd gotten himself into this mess, he'd have to find some way out of it. Mikaboshi was hardly a fan of Akira, but maybe he'd pull through. Whatever Akira's zanpakuto did, it had to do SOMETHING!

"Well, I can't say I fancy my odds here. That said, I don't feel like giving up, either." Akira drew his blade, the matte grey ninjato that always looked out of place comapared to the more period accurate blades his comrades tended to have. "Here goes nothing." Akira paused. The release command! Zanpakuto had release commands! Was Mikaboshi supposed to give one? He sure as hell didn't. Could Akira just make it up? Would be be stuck with whatever bullshit he made up on the fly? What did he want this blade to do? Beyond this battle, beyond any singular engagement, what did he want? "Remake the world, Mikaboshi."

Fuck that was good! Did he seriously just come up with that off the top of the dome? Whatever happened, he could feel his blade changing, his reiatsu becoming manifest, a candle competing with a wildfire, but it was something.  With a flash of light, Akira's ninjato became a much more familiar shape. It was a harsh blade, cruel and unforgiving, like a meat clever and a calvary saber had a twisted offspring... It somehow also looked like something they sold at Toys R Us. Well, an evil version of Toys R Us, anyway. Akira would think about that later. For now, he had to figure out what the hell Mikaboshi did, and fast. If not, he was doomed to fail.

Ok, ok ok, powers, powers, powers. Was it like his old fullbring? It certainly felt different. Mikaboshi hadn't exactly been willing to spill the beans on the blade's properties. The only time Akira had seen it used was when Eve had slashed his throat. He remembered his throat, and hand liquifying. What, some kind of...melting power? It would take some testing, and he didn't figure Senshi was a willing test dummy. Akira eyed the target dummies on the edge of the field, and shunpo'd behind one. If Senshi was serious about this whole battle, it would at least buy him some time. If he was really lucky, he could see what his blade actually did, and plan accordingly.

Assuming both that he got that far, and that he wasn't immediately blasted sky high, Akira would allow his reiatsu to flow into his blade, as he chopped into the training dummy, hoping to learn something before Senshi got wise to his plan. If he got that far, the dummy would quickly begin to melt into a formless magenta gelatinous substance. If Akira had time before Senshi was on him, he'd shunpo away, trying to avoid getting pinned down in a confrontation he couldn't win.

[Senshi Odayakama (Crimson.)]

The redheaded reaper was surprisingly patient. There was no need to rush and assault him. There was no need for her to be so garish and abuse her power; and frankly, she was just as curious as he was to find out his abilities. Remake the world he said. What an interesting call. So. Allowing him to lash out against that dummy? She saw it. How it seemingly melted down into a substance that she didn't fully recognize. Something she made herself warily self conscious of. She didn't want to touch it. Nor did she want to get touched by the blade that made it of course. However, within those next moments? After Akira had composed themselves?

"Shall we begin then?" As Akira utilized the Shunpo, she rears her sword level with her body and delivers a fierce overhead swing. With a single slashing motion, her blade would seemingly shatter into dozens of small fragmented shards, ripping across the battlefield like bullets. The technique was well designed to face step techniques like this one. Her eyes were sharply attuned, and well familiar with the usage of Hoho. Her blade fragments ripped through stone as if it were a hot knife through butter. Though; this was most unsurprising for her. If she'd made the blades as sharp as she feasibly could, she could cut through even the most powerful of bakudo barriers with utmost ease.

Tozensho. Danku. Kurohitsugi. All things she could destroy. Akira might witness, regardless if he dodged every fragment cleanly or not, that the wall where he previously once stood was completely eviscerated. In which case the stone foundations at the base began to crumble inwards along themselves. Before long, Senshi's blade reformed, back to the length it was. It was as if it was never broken whatsoever. "You seem unaccustomed to fighting with a blade." She declared, though she wasn't entirely certain. Or perhaps it was the notion of fear that made him run? What was there to fear? Was she scary? In Senshi's mind she wasn't.

After all, she'd seen and endured far worse kinds of monsters. From the Spider Col Arana. To the demon Kuroi. To the horrors of the Vreich's cruel Paiva Amalia. To the agents of Sanguine; Orobas. There seemed to be too many foes that haunted her in some way or another, and too many cruelties that even her medication didn't fully wipe away. She could remember vividly the experiences of battles; and as she slept at night, she had visions of them in her mind. Playing out. They'd help mold her to be a monster in her own right. "...You wanted to lock blades. Didn't you? Hinosai-San?..."


 

[Akira Hinosai]

OH FUCK ME GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW! THIS IS IT?!? THANKS A LOT, MEGATRON! Akira watched as the shikai he worked so hard for amounted to...jelly. FUCKING JELLY?!? Great on toast, yeah, not so great on the battlefield. He had died, been reborn, and endured countless trials and this was the fucking superpower he was blessed with? I GAVE UP RADIATION FOR THIS?!?!? It was the sort of thing that made one reflect on their current circumstances. Where did it all go so wrong? Was it when he asked Senshi to duel? Some moment long before that? Whatever link in the chain of causality had been the one to doom him, Akira was cursing his luck.

Senshi was unfazed by his hopping around, and despite being so far away, she swung her sword in his general direction. Akira didn't need to be a captain to know what that meant. He was fucked. Her blade shattered mid strike, but Akira was not such a fool as to think that was a good sign. He was proven right when the million or so fragments of her blade became shrapnel that filled the air like a swarm of locusts. Where was he supposed to go? No where was safe! Was he supposed to hunker down? It was a matter of "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation. Akira's concious mind had neither the time nor the knowledge to figure a way out of this mess.

Beneath that, however, Akira's body sprung into action. He raised one arm to shield his eyes. It was a motion he'd done a thousand times over in situations like this. With his other hand he pointed at the ground just in front of him "SOKATSUI!" As soon as the spell was done, he fell into the resulting hole and hunkered down as best he could, for however long the blast of shrapnel did. He stifled a scream of a bit of Senshi's blade grazed her back, and then another did. Then another. He had fallen on his arm, which stung as it was pinned beneath his chest. Just scratches, really. I'm fine. When Akira peaked up from his foxhole, there Senshi was, staring at him.

 "...You wanted to lock blades. Didn't you? Hinosai-San?..."

The words cut deeply. Deeper than the tiny blades had. "I...I was trying to fight smarter not harder, ma'am." She had seen his inexperience with the blade. Even an idiot could tell he was no good with a zanpakuto. He wanted to win, but that wasn't going to happen. The next best thing was to hold out as long as he could. If he was going to do that, he'd need every underhanded tactic in the book of underhanded tactics. "I mean, in a straight fight? You'd drop me in 5 seconds flat, and that's not really helpful for either of us." He was effectively dancing around the fact he'd never used his shikai before in his life, and had remedial knowledge of the blade.

After all, if Senshi knew that, she'd drum his ass back to Squad 12 to train with the other nerds who could barely hold a blade.

[Senshi Odayakama (Crimson.)]

Innovative. He showed the ability to think fast on his feet. Impressive. However...When he lay scratched and grazed by those fragments? Hitting into his skin and then moving past him, he might have felt that sudden drain. It might have been less noticeable if he was particularly plentiful in spiritual energy, but if he wasn't? He'd have felt as if he'd just casted three Sokatsui in a single moment. For this was a hidden but deadly aspect to Senshi's Zanpakutou. The ability to drain reiatsu from the foes she so faced; and using it to improve it's own characteristics. If any of the fragments of blades lay within his back?

It'd feel as if he'd casted six more.

"One shouldn't draw their blade unless they hold the confidence and conviction to use it." She says rather steadfast, as she swings her arm out to the side. Channeling her reiatsu, she wordlessly holds a finger out towards him. Pointing, before a golden rope would soar through the air. If he was skilled at Bakudo, he might have realized it as a Hainawa. Bakudo #4. However, he'd find that there was no attempt at binding his own body. Instead, the rope would twist and thin as it grabs onto something. One of the fragments of Senshi's own blade. A long and jagged shard.

Before the string pulls back and taut, wrenching it from the ground as it soars for Akira's back. With an almost whip like motion, she sways her arm back and forth wildly as this little sharp razor blade piece of metal threatened to cut into his skin or dig into his flesh and muscle. But the first and foremost strike came for his lower left leg. Where if he'd dodge, with a flick of her wrist, it'd snap like a rolling wave, the razor headed then for his thigh, rising diagonally as to travel up his body.

Normally such an assault would be meaningless or petty, but...when a Zanpakutou was as sharp as Senshi's? It might as well have been a death sentence. "Come now. I'll be pushing you to your very limits Hinosai-San. You'd best get creative on how to fight an opponent such as me. Because there is no such thing as fairness on the field. There is no right way of fighting." There were only victors and there were losers. In other words. It was clear while she was here to educate him, she was far from being here to hold his hand. It was clear that as her makeshift whip lashed out towards him to keep him on his toes?

The whip was getting faster and more erratic, as she began to get closer and closer to him. The string's distance getting shorter and shorter from her hand. She could tell just from generally being around him that he was inexperienced when it came to battle. That he hadn't yet fought in what seemed to be the true life or death battles that she was used to. She'd rectify that to some extent today. She'd give him the experience. 

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira felt a dull ache in his chest. So dull he could hardly feel it at all, and yet he knew it was there. The fire that burned within him was fading. In its place was a cold black emptiness that grew and grew. That which rightfully belonged to him was being siphoned away somehow. He didn't understand the mechanics of it. All he knew was that whatever he was feeling wasn't the result of normal exertion. No. He wasn't that weak. This had to be Senshi's doing. The lost puppy of a captain spoke down to him again. It was all getting to be too much. My release is...who the fuck knows. I'm completely and hopelessly outgunned. To top it all off, I'm  also bleeding reiatsu like a stuck pig.

Does it really matter what I do if I'm gonna eat shit either way? He'd taken his licks before, and just when he thought he was strong enough, he was forced to start all over. Maybe this was his life, forever the little guy. I was so strong too. I beat the primera espada! Now...I'm nothing. Unrealized potential, a job left half done. That's all he was now. All he'd ever be until Eve showed up to collect his soul. A familiar voice rung in his ears. You've already done the heavy lifting for her. You've lost the battle in your mind. Until you learn to wield our power, you're a paper tiger. You've got no teeth.

Eve was a bitch, but she was right. He could be sad. He could always be sad, but sadness had no place on the battlefield. Anger, though? That was a warrior's comfort food. Why should he accept this kind of talk from some pencil-pushing tax-bitch? Why should he accept that Mikaboshi fucked him over and gave him a shitty release? He wasn't about to let his draining reiatsu stop him either. It just sped up his timetables a bit. Akira sensed the captain charging reiatsu, but with an open hand instead of through her sword. That meant one thing only. Kido. The only question remained of what she was trying to do.

 When gold beam of energy shot past Akira, he had a pretty good idea. Bakudo, low level spell. Rope-like consistency. Akira was no stranger to using spells in creative ways. It was kind of his whole thing. Whatever Senshi was planning, he knew he didn't want to be around when the jack came out of the box. Instead, he decided to say "Fuck it." and close the distance as fast as he could. Her shrapnel was potent and deadly, but if he engaged her in melee, she wouldn't dare use it again for fear of hurting herself. That was reason enough. Akira dashed at her headlong. It may have seemed like a desperate and predictable assault, but it was only partially true. At the last possible second before entering melee range, he used his off-hand to cast SHO on the ground, and used the added force to fuel his jump over Senshi, hopefully landing behind her.

From there he'd quickly spin on his heels to face her flank and slice at her lower back.