霜天に坐せ氷輪丸

This was ridiculous.

  “He knows what it means yet he allows him to live, even now. It’s just delaying the    inevitable, why allow him to continue existing when the outcome of all of this is to be    expected? Would it not be easier to have everything all said and done, to not allow even    a sliver of potential to a bigger threat being allowed to take place.”

  “The trust of your Master and the alliance with Kurosaki, Ichigo is not my concern, here.    A traitor that should be long dead still lives, one that can evolve into something greater.    We do not need such a threat roaming about so freely!”

 The temptation to lash out and free himself of this, to carry on with what he had started, and finish it was growing. Irritation bubbled away, the visible brow form the the hole in his mask seeming to tremble with how strongly it was furrowed.

     Hyourinmaru spoke matter-of-factly, but it was becoming clear that there was nothing he could say that would change Senbonzakura’s mind. And if there were no words that would influence the samurai to step down, then there would be no point in speaking any further. His grip on the blade nestled in his palm tightened.

     Ice began to creep upward from the ground and over Senbonzakura’s shoes, first solidifying him to the spot he stood before climbing higher and higher. It strengthened and grew thicker with every passing moment to encase the dragon’s new prisoner in a shell of permafrost. He allowed Senbonzakura’s head to remain free, if only to let him breathe. Any more words from the samurai’s mouth would be little more than a single drop of water off a cliff.

     Ignored.

     “If you will not listen, then I have little other choice than to return you to Soul Society. Your words will not be heeded -- Muramasa is thought to be dead, and I will neither confirm nor deny what has transpired here. It is your word against the mass belief that the Muramasa Incident was finished.”

     He would not mention his promise to Tensa Zangetsu those months ago -- that he would not lie to his Master if he were asked of Muramasa’s existence. But only to his Master... Lips pulled into a thin line at the thought, eyes narrowing further as he stared down at his captive.

 The spirits head was pulled back, eyes quickly narrowing in confused irritation. There was no reason for Hyourinmaru to be here, this business did not concern him. Yet, despite that, here he stood– angered and blocking his path to finish this conflict between the Bankai that sat battered behind him.

 The advancement of the dragon had Senbonzakura’s remaining petals falling back, forming to sit behind the now defensive blade. There was no desire to back down from his self-given mission, already coming this close and already being given a second road block.

 The desire to step back with each approaching step grew, if only the other Zanpakutou’s ice had not crept up upon him so quickly. There was a quick glance below him, taking a mental note upon where he stood.. and he froze. Even without the dragon’s ability the samurai was left stiff for but a few seconds before his gaze was shot up; towards Hyourinmaru.

  “You knew of this?! You’re aware Muramasa lives and you’re protecting him?!”

  “Yet you dare label me as a disappointment. This is absurd! You should know full well    what will become of him shall he be allowed to live any longer, have you already    forgotten what he– …!?”

 A growl was left to simmer in his throat, a cold gaze given to rival that of the ice-wielder. To have even his blade raised against him in such a manner, in order to protect the very same man he wished to draw out using Tensa Zangetsu.

     He was thankful the Bankai had made the correct choice -- already battered and weakened by his emotional state, it was likely had Tensa Zangetsu refused that Muramasa would have fallen into the very state Senbonzakura had come to eradicate from this world. Another layer of danger to handle would have made Hyourinmaru’s position even more difficult than it had already become.

     “... Yes.”

     “You misunderstand, Senbonzakura. I am no more happy of Muramasa’s existence than you are. I stood in your very position once before with Muramasa nearly disposed of before I was stopped by Tensa Zangetsu.”

      His words paused to allow them to sink in. He remembered the conversation they had then -- he and Tensa Zangetsu -- word for word. The thought made the disgust in his stare melt away before the weapon pointed at Senbonzakura was lowered back to his side.

     “My trust in Master Hitsugaya is unbreakable, and his trust in Kurosaki Ichigo is great. More than you or I, Tensa Zangetsu understands what it means if Muramasa succumbs to his Hollows. And I ask you to trust in him as well. The incident in Soul Society will not transpire again.”

Fingers of an extended hand began to curl inward, slowly seeping down to his palm in order to direct the mass of blades into a tightly enclosed sphere; to command them to gave in, to rip apart– this would be over with quickly.

  “He will fall soon enough. Just as soon as you–”

 –!!?

The sudden lack of light in the sky and the sudden lightning had the Zanpakutou freezing within the seconds it took him to gasp out in surprise, head immediately snapping upward to watch the shift in scenery take place. 

It was all a familiar sight, one which he knew well. Not only was the view something he could recall but there was that massive wave of Reiatsu that seemed to follow it, as well as–

The sound of his name in such a roar– it sent an uneasy vibration throughout his entire being. What could have been a surprised, yet collected, realization of things had plummeted down to an anxious unease. Never in his years could he remember hearing the dragon speak in such a tone, with such a ferocity that drenched the air along with it.

 … and it was directed at him.

  “Hy–Hyourinmaru!?”

His technique, his Bankai… nullified within an instant. Frozen blades shattering into crystal dust before his eyes and allowing a clear view of his opponent from just moment ago.

What was he doing? 

  “I could very well ask the same of you.. !!”

His tears had frozen to his face, the dull echo of Hyourinmaru stating Senbonzakura’s name so harshly reaching him through the now iced over jail of petals.

“… what…?”

Why was he here?

The spirit’s eyes were wide as the ice around him shattered, his nerves finally catching up to him as his knees buckled, sending him collapsing to the ground. The extent of how battered he had become in such a short time due to his recklessness was getting through to him now, as well, his blade vanishing as he moved his hand instead to pick the frozen tears off his face. His gaze was averted, brow furrowed harshly; he didn’t want either of them to see just how much Senbonzakura had gotten to him, not while he sat on the ground like this, too overwhelmed and shaken up to even think about activating Blut to help with his wounds.

“…”

What sort of mess had he gotten himself into, where he reverted to such an embarrassing state only because he had gotten too worked up about Muramasa? This wasn’t how he fought, this…

There was no true conviction in his voice with that realization, no matter his attempt at trying to sound at least somewhat forceful as he spoke: “Why are you here, Hyourinmaru.”

     How unfortunate for Senbonzakura.

     “No, you couldn’t.”

     Frost was left in his footsteps as he began forward, slowly closing the distance between himself and the warrior before him. That ice crept forward along the ground in the same direction. It slipped along the place Senbonzakura stood, beneath his shoes and threatening to edge up along the soles.

     “Tensa Zangetsu,” he spoke, directly toward the Bankai without letting his focus slip from his target. “Leave this place if you wish to return to Muramasa. I will deal with Senbonzakura. You are both still under my protection...”

     Spoken clearly to ensure each and every syllable was heard, Hyourinmaru’s stare narrowed harshly.

     “And you, Senbonzakura... You go against the blade of the one who has saved Soul Society countless times? I am disappointed.”

     His footsteps finally came to a halt, the distance between them less, but still enough for the dragon to lift his blade -- the tip of it sat mere inches from the samurai’s shattered mask and served as yet another warning.

 A mistake on his part, one to regrettably admit. It would be corrected.

 The familiar name of such an attack, accompanied by that flare of Reiatsu around the ebony blade had the spirit tensing. An attack to be expected from the zanpakutou spirit of Kurosaki, Ichigo, yet one he would wish to face in more than just Shikai.

 Quickly a hand had swung forward, arching to be used as a shield over the samurai’s face. Petals swarmed, once more, at his command; gathering to be used to protect against the impending strike. So few were left on this side, the rest from the previous attack only just beginning to add to the cluster of blades.

 It wasn’t enough, that much was certain. The blades would help in relieving some of the given blow but they would not be enough–in that instance–to help the spirit avoid leaving it unscathed.

 Footing had to be regained, a large distance between them created thanks to the Getsuga’s push. Armour sat scuffed and cracked, fabric tattered and torn. The damage, of it all, that he focused upon were the falling pieces of his mask.

 If this is what he was to deal with, fine. Blades were gathered into one, only to be allowed to drop; to vanish in a rippling pool with a sternly uttered, “Bankai.”

  “You believe you can postpone that which is doomed to repeat itself? How long do you believe Muramasa tried before; tried to postpone his own death. In the end, he had failed. His body could no longer take the strain and he paid the price.

 What makes you believe you can do any different for him? He is living as he had before, he put a timer upon his life once again and the clock is ticking down. This is not something you can stop– if it were, would it not have been done so already; would you not have saved him?!”

 The closing of his words allowed the scattering of Senbonzakura Kageyoshi, a larger arsenal of blades now readied at his disposal.

“He is doomed to a horrific end yet again and you– you have failed in your efforts!”

“– what?”

Why would Muramasa have gone trying to postpone his death to the extent that Tensa was now trying for him? He thought that he would be reunited with Kouga, and there would be no more reason for his suffering. Tensa knew that. He’d seen it, and he had been told by Muramasa in turn that that had been exactly the case. The pain, the anguish, that he’d had to suffer… that had been nothing, thinking that he was going to join up with his Shinigami once more and that it would all end. He had thought it would be worth it – there was no reason to postpone what he thought was only temporary to begin with.

It wasn’t supposed to be a permanent source of life.

          What makes you believe you can do any different for him?

“I’m not a wanted man, Senbonzakura!           There are places I can go that Muramasa cannot. I haven’t stopped trying, not for one day – even if it involves sacrificing part of my own life, I’ll make sure he stops hurting!”

“I haven’t failed until he’s dead! I haven’t stopped trying, I won’t stop trying… what gives you the right to think you can judge what you can’t even see!? I’ve made progress, I’ve…!”

His voice cracked. Whatever – words weren’t going to get through to him. Who cared if his vision was blurred, if his cheeks were wetter than just scrapes and blood? It didn’t matter. Being surrounded by these petals didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

All that mattered was getting Senbonzakura out of the picture and saving Muramasa.

He’d charge through the damn blades if he needed to. He’d get sliced to bits if he needed to. If it took a thousand Getsuga Tenshous and it drained him of all his energy, then so be it.

     Hyourinmaru had been quick to realize Senbonzakura’s intentions upon discovering his absence from Soul Society. Few realized Muramasa still lived, but there were very few reasons any blade would go to such lengths to leave for the Living World without accompanying their wilder. Anger had boiled within the dragon’s normally calm persona; he would not compromise the peace he had negotiated with Tensa Zangetsu and Muramasa due to a foolish mistake.

     Massive ice wings broke the cloud line, followed by a roar that bellowed across their battleground. Frozen winds surrounded the sphere of cherry blossom fragments, coating the multitude of blades in a thick layer of ice as the dragon descended toward the ground.

               “Senbonzakura--!!”

     The boom of Hyourinmaru’s voice echoed across the clearing, fangs bared threateningly as he loomed above his fellow spirit. How rare it was to witness the dragon’s wrath in person, growl rippling along his throat. An exhale was pressed through him, all of that anger forced back under his control.

     Behind him the sphere of ice shattered, leaving a battered Tensa Zangetsu free of his prison.

      It was not Senbonzakura’s  actions themselves that had broken Hyourinmaru’s perfected mastery over his emotions, but the clear disregard for Soul Society’s -- and therefore his Master’s -- safety. Did he truly believe that he could stand against Kurosaki Ichigo’s blade without consequence?

     The winds suddenly rushed around the dragon’s mass, hiding him from view only momentarily before they dissipated.

     Icy claws gripped tightly at his manifested blade, piercing stare daring Senbonzakura to make just one more move against the fallen Zanpakutou behind him.

                   ❝   I  wanted to be gentle with ya the first time, but I’ve gotta  assert my DOMINANCE  — !   ❞