Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Twilight Zanpaku-to ❯ The World Passes By ( Chapter 2 )

“Shut -UP- Shunsui!” Her voice held an unusual amount of venom, even for Katsumi during her angry moments. With an exaggerated sigh, he got up off the floor and arranged his floral haori, sliding open the ruined door. With two fingers, he raised one corner of the paper, attempted half heartedly to return it to it's place, then let it flutter down once more. How many times had Nanao done the same thing? Man, all these women were alike.
Katsumi stood over the window, one arm bent and propping herself up above her head. Her blue eyes, usually kind and gentle flashed with anger now, so much so that one could imagine smoldering ashes in the ink black irises. In a cliché pose, the sun only struck half her face, leaving her eyes in darkness, even more shaded by the position of her arm. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” She could be a poster child for that phrase.
“Jeez, what's got you all riled up?” He asked, idly twirling a flower between his fingers.
“Yamamoto!” She exclaimed, throwing up her free hand, as if that explained everything.
“And...” Shunsui prompted gently when he realized she wasn't going to offer any further explanation. He dropped the delicate petals one by one onto the floor that Nanao had just swept.
“And, he's forbidden me to continue my relationship with Ukitake!” With another growl of frustration, she turned to face him, throwing up both hands. “I can't just stop! It isn't that easy!”
“Mmm, I see..” He murmured, dropping the stem to rub his stubbled chin. “So that's why you came here after training, and not to see Juushiro.”
“Yamamoto says that his illness is holding me back and that my coddling is making him weak! Crazy old coot wouldn't know love if it were a lobster that had attached itself to his pinky toe!” With an exasperated sigh, she turned toward the window again.
“Now, now. He is just looking at it from a teacher's view. I can see how he'd come to that conclusion...” He mused, almost to himself.
Whirling back to face him, her eyes really did burn with anger now, her cheeks flushed. “You're against us too? Why didn't you just say so?!” She fairly screeched.
He held up his hands defensively and backed off a step. “Hey, I didn't say that. I'm all for you two, really. I'm just saying that I understand where Yamamoto might be coming from, that's all. If you'd calm down and think about it rationally, you would too.” He pointed out. Shunsui didn't make a very convincing voice of reason.

Katsumi woke with a gasp, running her hand through her hair. What an odd dream to have. That had never happened. Shaking her head, she stood up, resting one hand against a tree to balance herself. Taking up her Zanpaku-to, she strapped it to her waist and headed east. The forest had been her home for the last year or so. It was just to hard to be around people who couldn't see, feel or hear her. Among the trees she could be as alone as she felt without the constant reminder of all that she'd lost. Of everyone that she'd lost.
She'd been stuck in this...whatever, for nearly a decade now. Try as she might to figure out her Bankai, she was still falling short. She had gotten somewhere, at least. She'd figured out that she was stuck in a limbo of sorts, lacking any better way to describe it. She could see the Shinigami, but they couldn't see her. She could see Hollows, but they couldn't see her. It was the same in the living world. Katsumi could do nothing but observe. Well, observe and destroy.
She had no problem dispatching Hollows. That was probably the only thing that kept her sane, being able to focus her frustration on something productive. Hence, why she was out in the middle of nowhere squared, looking for Hollows. Of course, if she chose she could probably do the same to Shinigami, however, she didn't wish to test that particular theory out on a live subject. That probably wouldn't be appreciated when she returned.
At first, she'd been surprised at the sheer power of her Bankai. Once mastered, if ever mastered, she would be invincible. No one could see her, no one could stop her attacks, but they would come and they would wound. Then, she'd discovered the downfall of her Bankai when attacking a Hollow much to powerful for her to take on herself. Nothing makes one learn something faster than learning it the hard way and nothing brings one down from a power high faster than realizing that a cocky nature might just result in death. Once her victim was attacked, they were allowed momentary flashes of her presence which increased in length and frequency the closer to death the target came. Shunpo, paired with the fraction of a second glimpses of her only teased all but the best opponents. Her encounters were usually over before the victim even knew they were being attacked.
She'd learned to deal with that little problem by landing killing blows the first try, avoiding the cat and mouse games. What truly confused Katsumi was that her Bankai never seemed to reach it's limit and end. Would she be stuck here for her entire existence? Never to feel human warmth, enjoy a conversation, be seen, everything one takes for granted. It was unbearable!
Katsumi been so preoccupied in her own self-pity she hadn't noticed the Hollow that was nearly on top of her. The brush mere yards ahead of her swayed and split, leaves fluttering to the ground. With a powerful surge of her legs, she jumped into the nearest tree, springing up and off ground level from branch to branch. From her higher vantage point she could see the lumbering thing below her. Her hand moved to the hilt of her Zanpaku-to as she watched it, gripping so tightly her knuckles turned white.
It was fairly small as far as Hollows went, no larger than an average man. It walked on three legs that rotated more than took steps, a large bulbous body with a hole in the center sat atop the tripod with a long, skinny, insect like head. The long snout was filled with sharp teeth, the Hollow mask lined with rivets and grooves that swept back from the nose.
“Tasugare, I need you.” She murmured under her breath. Slipping the blade from the sheath, her eyes never left the Hollow. Her Zanpaku-to hadn't changed since she'd arrived, constantly in Bankai state and appearance. The slim blade shimmered like so much smoke and dust, swirling and spinning. Her father, she remembered from her childhood, had smoked a pipe and she loved the little things he would do, smoke circles, twirling braids. Her Zanpaku-to now reminded her of those lazy days with him. Perhaps not the most magnificent of Bankai states, especially compared to others, but she found it pleasing.
Stepping off the branch rather than jumping down, she fell down to ground level, her elaborate braid flying back behind her. She landed hard, moving to one knee to balance out the force of impact. The Hollow plodded past her, unaware of her presence. It soon would be though, the Shinigami walking along side it took in every movement, assessing any visible advantages it might have. Death walked beside it and it was no more away of that then it might have been a bug along it's path.

The pain! The Hollow stumbled and came crashing down to the earth, it's foremost leg now gone. The flash, the pain, so sudden it couldn't comprehend what was happening. Tastes like...Shinigami...but not in sight. Letting out a howl, it struggled to stand. A menacing face, Shinigami, appeared before it's sight, eyes dark and lifeless, without emotion. Then, all went dark in the freedom of death.

Resheathing Tasugare, she stood up to her full height and pushed her braid over her shoulder. She felt slightly guilty, admitting to herself that it probably was cruel to play with a creature, Hollow or not, like she had. With a shake of her head she started off again. It was done anyway, nothing she could do about it. Or the Shinigami running toward her. There were three, lower ranks all of them, rushing past her without even a hint of breeze to brush against her cheek. They mulled about the spot where she'd dispatched the Hollow, looking rather confused. They would look about for the next few hours before realizing it was gone, they always did.

Katsumi continued that existence for so long, that after a couple of centuries, she gave up counting the days, the months, the years that only trudged by. For a while she'd returned to Seireitei to be near the people she loved and missed. Out of respect for Kaien, she'd attended his funeral, and his wife's, grieved for him, mourned with Ukitake. She'd stayed with him through his bout of sickness that had followed, sitting beside his bed, at the foot of it, standing by the door. Ever guarding him, though, he would never know.
Words like “when” and “what-if”s that only dashed her hopes had been stricken from her mind long ago. She only returned when Ukitake fell ill, when a new captain or vice as appointed, when a Shinigami died. A veritable hermit, she hadn't heard her own voice in years with the exception of a few murmurings to Tasugare. Every few years when her hair grew longer than she could manage she would lop it all off with her Zanpaku-to, the only tool she retained possession of. He uniform had taken it's own hits, but was holding up well. Even though no one seemed to be able to see her, the idea of walking around nude wasn't one her mind could accept.
On days when she was feeling truly morbid she would visit her own grave. It was more a small memorial set up in her honor. Shunsui had spent years trying to convince Ukitake to let her go and put it up. She couldn't blame him, instead she thanked him. It was better that he move on despite how painful it was for Katsumi to watch. How many more decades would it be before her picture left his room, before her clothes were taken away? She'd given up the hope that she would return before that day came.
This day in particular she'd taken refuge at the training grounds. She'd had a run in with a particularly nasty Hollow who might have ended all of her suffering if the other Shinigami patrolling the area hadn't cut in and helped her out. They were abandoned so very early in the morning, allowing her to sit in peace and meditate. She hadn't bothered to wash off the dried blood on her face, to stitch the rips in her clothes. Her hair hadn't seen a brush in far too long.
Today was the day, Katsumi had determined. She would find a way out of this, or die trying. She could feel her sanity slipping. Not like she'd thought so many times in the past, it really was failing her this time. Rather than risking the lives of Shinigami, those she'd protected so fiercely without their knowing, she would do the honorable thing and take her own life. With a deep breath, she centered herself. She'd also decided that today was the day she would master her Bankai fully. One last accomplishment before the end. As a testament to her determination, she'd already said goodbye to Ukitake, her eyes still red with the tears she'd shed.
Tasugare was laid out before her, the incorporeal blade catching the fading moonlight like child's glitter. Running one hand over the blunt edge the smoke followed her finger, swirled around it as if it had gone through, rather than run over. Finally, she rested her hands on her knees, closing her eyes. The flashes of memory she called up played across her minds eye one by one with almost indistinguishable speed. All of the Hollows she'd killed, the reasons she was going back, all she'd learned of her Zanpaku-to in the last three hundred and fifty eight years. Like a puzzle she put them together, a mental collage of all of her knowledge.
Still, nothing happened. With a feral cry of rage, she stood and threw the sheath of her Zanpaku-to as far as she could. Looking down at the blade, it shimmered and spun as if nothing had changed. She was stuck here. Bending, she picked up Tasugare and once again forced herself to calm. Despite the appearance of the blade, the tip felt real enough as it rested between her breasts and at the fault line of her ribs. Not that it mattered, she'd kept it sharp enough to cut through bone.
“Ukitake Juushiro....you were my last thought.” Her long lashes flew down, blue eyes covered and in her mind, never to be opened again. The muscles in her arms flexed and the blade slid easily through her body. A soft gasp was the only sound she made, the thought that death wasn't so painful flashing through her mind. Slipping to her knees, she was surprised at how calm she'd remained. This was the right thing, Katsumi kept telling herself as she began to grow dizzy.
With a gasp of surprise, her eyes flew open. Her eyes were fully blue now, glowing in a literal sense, a similar light streaking from around Tasugare. The Zanpaku-to slid quickly from her body and clattered to the ground before her, forgotten. The light grew, streaming toward the heavens in a blazing column. Katsumi's world however, went black.

“That's all I remember.” Onishi Katsumi sat before Yamamoto, head lowered. Her newly cut hair, clean and combed once more, fell over her eyes. Ukitake and Shunsui were in the room as well, the latter leaning against the wall, appearing for all he was worth that not a word of her day long story had gotten to him. He might as well have been snoring. Ukitake, however had been attentive through the whole tale, standing next to his friend, arms crossed and face downcast. Even now he didn't look up.
“Thank you, Vice Onishi.” Despite the fact that her position had been given away long ago, everyone insisted on continuing the use of her former title. “That is quite a story.” The elderly man stood, resting his hands on his desk, regarding the small form of the woman sitting in front of him. “Are you well enough to continue your training? With work, your Bankai could be perfected as well as mastered. We have great need of you now as there are squads missing their captains.” Katsumi's brows furrowed and she looked at the Commander in awe. He was asking her to go back to that place?!
Finally, Shunsui stood straight, raising the rim of his hat. “With all due respect, Yamamoto. Given what she had to do to get back, what she went through before that, do you think it's a good idea to force her to go back?” Shunsui, you're a great guy when you want to be, Katsumi thought, thanking him silently. “It's obvious she's mastered it, or she wouldn't be here. She's been gone over a quarter of a millennium.” he pointed out gently, one shaggy brow raised.
Ukitake nodded. “I have to agree, Yamamoto. When she's ready, she'll continue.” He said, speaking the last while looking down at her. For a moment, the old man looked as if he might grow angry. He was, however, open to reason. With a brisk nod, he sat down, old bones creaking.
“You're both right. I respect the opinions of my Captains. Vice Onishi, if you wish, you can assume command of one of the squads missing a Captain. Since you have indeed mastered Bankai, it is open to you. Due to your unusual circumstances, no further testing to prove such will be needed. You're dismissed.”
The two captains allowed her to leave first, walking a step or two behind her. Ukitake's voice came from behind her, gentle as always. “Katsumi..” Her steps faltered and she closed her eyes, coming to a stop. Even though she'd heard her name often in the last few days, it was always welcome, especially from Juushiro. “Are you ready for that? To become captain?”
Turning to face the two friends, she nodded. “Once I regain my strength, I'll be ready. I've been ready for four hundred years. I have a lot to catch up on and the sooner life returns to normal, the better.” Nodding, Ukitake led her back to the squad four headquarters. Unohana insisted on keeping her at least a week longer. Dying, after all, could put quite a strain on someone.

Matching flowers for Kaien and his wife, laid down by loving hands, shifted in the summer wind. Another laid before a third head stone atop the hill. Onishi Katsumi. The woman herself sat before it. Her waist length hair had been pulled back into an elaborate braid, so heavy that the wind didn't shift it. Her cream colored kimono kept her cool enough, though soon the temperature would go down with the sun.
At the sound of soft footsteps approaching, she leaned back and turned slightly. A warm smile came to her lips, blue eyes once again filled with the sparkle of life. Being in rank-limbo, she didn't rise to bow, figuring they would understand.
“Hitsugya Toushiro.” She greeted.
The boy nodded, his face far to serious for his years. “Onishi Katsumi. I was told I could find you here. I pray I'm not intruding.” He asked, stark white brows raised. His captains haori rustled slightly in the breeze, the tips of his hair fluttering as well.
“Not at all. Please, join me.” She offered, scooting a bit despite the fact that they had the whole hill to themselves.
“I wanted to meet you.” He said, tourmaline eyes focused on her face, studying her intently. “You were a legend when I was training...you still are. I used to argue with classmates about the legend of the forest Shinigami. It was either you or Kaien. Killing Hollows under our noses, never seen but your handiwork everywhere.” There was admiration in his voice but it was hard to pick out. This child was very good at masking what he felt. So much responsibility for one so young. He bore it well.
“In my more sane moments, I'd watched your career with great interest. The youngest captain in history, strong enough to rival those of equal rank who have been studying for centuries longer than yourself. You are quite the legend yourself, Hitsugya.” She returned.
“Have you decided what squad you would like to command?” He asked curiously, apparently eager to turn the topic of conversation away from himself.
Katsumi gave another smile and nodded. “I've been asked to command squad five. Momo is still having a hard time dealing with the loss of Aizen. Yamamoto hopes that having a female captain will ease her out of it. I can only hope he's right.”
“As do I.” He agreed solemnly. He stood abruptly and bowed. She watched in slight surprise. He really was an amazing child. “We are all glad to have you back, Captain Onishi Katsumi.” With that said, the turned and walked away. Watching with a smile, Katsumi leaned back on her hands. “It's good to be back.” She murmured to herself.
Finally she stood as well. By tomorrow this monument would be gone. Ukitake would be waiting for her and she didn't want to keep him. They had the chance to fall in love all over again and she was going to take full advantage of that. She no longer had to watch the world pass her by.