The rehabilitated

While Shi’Kuyo had become close—as close as consociates could—over the years, even if, with all my resources, hadn’t known of this cryptic intruder. To claim something as highly as being the Grandfather to a man who detested his father was treading dangerous waters, and if contentions were factual, shouldn’t the elder have known it? Could his intentions have been to rally the Commander’s muse for conflict all along? I would have reacted in a similar fashion to Shi’Kuyo if this were the case.

While I lacked the prowess in Kidō my colleague seemingly was farmed with, I knew of his methods. As a result, I didn’t move with concern nor aggression as the not-so-subtle “bullshit” escaped the raven-hair’s lips. Three lengths of spiritual manacles erupted from Shi’Kuyo’s arms, rushing greedily towards the man who sat but footfalls from both of us in attempts to bind him. A rather embroidered and unnecessary means of testing truths, I only assumed this was something Kidō practitioners—especially those of the demonic arts family—resorted to resolve disputes. Legislation and combat was all I required. 

From the corner of my eye sockets, my thorough hues—newly regenerated—captured all as if It were slowed to minimal speed, nonetheless, I also captured the elder’s snicker. Along with such display of cockiness, I sparred his “tch” no ill-will as it ensued upon collision!

Sweeping through him, the several bondages swiveled and convoluted, attempted to latch on to their target. A waste of energy, nonetheless, as the short elder remained untouched, and my eyes widened as I saw Shi’Kuyo’s Kidō sat at bay, levitated just outside the man’s comfort zone, an aura of dense yellow encircling around his form in the shape of a lustrous sphere. The Grinch laughed once more.

“You definitely are a Tokomaru!” He humored, hands perched on his clothed stomach as he sat within his barrier—an unnamed Kidō that seemingly rejected Shi’Kuyo’s attack.

“A triple evocation without an incantation, truly fitting of the new Commander…” He trailed off and soon his smile faded into a drone of deep seriousness. “Though I’m its first Commander.” And with nothing more than a huff, the energy that existed around him dispersed, and with its flushing, the bands incinerated into nothingness. 

“You’re go—ARGH!” The man ached in pain as his back instantly bent and his palms touched base with his hips…It seems he threw his back out?

For several moments, my calm posture and narrow sights watched as the man hopped around, attempting to gather himself and relieve the pain before he finally settled into a comfortable pose and sighed heavily. I was speechless for now, however, he would continue—If uninterrupted. 

“If you want to release what only our eyes can see, I suggest you actually come here and listen to me… We don’t have much time with the state of things out there.”

He pointed towards the window, though his finger’s intent expanded far beyond the Gotei—but the Seireitei—even the Soul Society as a whole. What happened while I was in this damned Coma?

“The Impossible?” words of inquest escaped through the bristled beard of the mysterious man who claimed the surname of “Tokomaru”. Profoundly in thought, his creased features tightened as a brow lifted, brushing his receding hairline back deeper into the closure of his orange hat. While I knew Shi’Kuyo to be an honest, cultivated man, it perplexed me, seeing someone so old, being so muddled. Did he truly find what the current Kidōshū Commander had to say to be nothing more than sheer falsehoods?  

The man continued to look on with disconcerted features, eyes filled with irritation as he could clearly perceive Shi’Kuyo’s detest; even I, not involved in this conversation, could feel the uneasiness in the room. “I suppose you’re right, lad. I mean, it does sound impossible to keep an age-old secret like this…” He paused, eyes now passive, roaming around the room before leveling off on my form. “Because it’s impossible to keep secrets that not even the young Seiryū fails to know about himself. The resources you two must share collectively must make knowing everything easy.” His eyes became absorbed on my chest, namely, my heart, as Shi’Kuyo continued on, only vindicating such a stare with his words. A tattoo?  

My raven orbs fell from the two and spotted a clothed chest—calm and orderly; this oozing sensation the Commander addressed was fictional, at least to my eyes and I felt notably intact and healthy. This could have easily been a side-effect of the elderly man’s healing technique, however.  

“It’s oozing because the seal has weakened drastically... Its bond to Itada’s form has loosened since his crippling.” The man, continued on, pacing around in a reoccurring line, moving back and forth, and arms laced behind his back as his fists cupped within one another, generating a meditative posture.  

“The seal is beyond repair, and now we need to prepare for the next step—its inevitable release.” My eyes widened, still I felt normal, yet these two buffoons spoke of me as if I was a be-all, end-all.  

“This could be a good thing.. or a bad thing…” 

Pause. 

“Either with this seal’s collapse, Itada will gain a power unfathomable—his power…. Or…” 

Another pause rightfully ensued. 

“The Seireitei will burn in a hell storm of flames until nothing but ash remains."  

While I was still confused on what these two remained so involved in in regards to conversation, I had picked up on the two endings: Regaining some power I never had, or destroying the Seireitei in an eventual hell? Both seemed highly unlikely, yet I was the only one in the room who couldn’t see, nor fathom this exuding paradox that was seemingly tied to my chest.  

“You may not be able to help him now, but trust in my knowledge, Shi’Kuyo. You are the only one within the Soul Society capable of dealing with this impending miracle or catastrophe.”    

“You are a Tokomaru after, all.” 

Pause. 

“What I need for you two right now is to follow me. All will be explained on the way there. I can wager highly that you both will want to hear this” 

And with that, the orange-coated anomaly proceeded towards the exit, not stopping to peer and see who followed. Without hesitation, I followed; this would be the only way I could truly understand what was going on.  

As Shi’Kuyo took a moment to scrutinize and digest everything the aged mystery had to offer in words, I too reflected on the situation. A power beyond my own conception, that seemingly existed within the very walls of my physical, my spiritual vessel. It seemed too fanciful, and while I knew my power—at its rawest level—was matched by few within the Seireitei, to shrink the numbers, to make those few, fewer, I couldn’t gage such a revelation; If anyone should have been away of this anomaly, shouldn’t I—the person it concerned—have known all along? 

Nonetheless, when the Kidōshū Commander implied my inevitable defeat, and by his hands, I couldn’t help but to inwardly smile; it seems a single loss brightened the confidences of many. “You’re right. We’re not friends.” I retorted, my tone fixed in its normal, mechanical state as we continued down the lengthy corridor. At first notice, my words would have seemed far beyond considerate and almost debasing, nonetheless, this couldn’t be further from the truth. While it was true, I considered none to be my friends, I had good reason. They became strengths, but inexorably, these same strengths shifted to weaknesses in time. To care, to love, to accept consequences of others, these conceptions were detrimental in the end and I couldn’t allow myself such evident Achilles heels. Nevertheless, our relationship traversed centuries and our experiences within the Seireitei coincided numerously; I’ve been there for Shi’Kuyo and vice-versa. If I adopted the thought of a friendship, he would be the closest thing to it.  

“For you two to fully understand the magnitude of this dire situation, we have to go back to the very beginning—your birth, young Itada.” The gnome of a man echoed with intent as our footsteps pursued distanced down the hallway. “No older than days into life, it became largely evident that your infantile form possessed a dark, consuming power that—to our former and current knowledge—couldn’t wholly be contained in your unfledged receptacle.” I was already aware of that; this lone fact and peak into my life was the rationale behind isolating me for years within a containment chamber and forged the purpose behind my Combat Armor. Now he was surely preaching circles around falsehoods, until… 

“I know, I was train---“My words were cut thin. 

“Even the chamber they trapped you in and the armor you donned from youth wasn’t enough to lock the totality of your power away; it was that volatile.” 

Pause. 

“That’s when the Gotei employed both Izumi and myself to help further your progress.” 

My eyes for but a moment fell into a second’s long widening before relaxing into their normal, fixed slenderness. He knew of Izumi—which wasn’t startling seeing her wealth of fame and deference within the Gotei 13. What came to me as a complete surprise was the fact that he knew of our training—a secretly classified stunt sanctioned by the Sōtaichō herself. I was assured that only the very, very few involved would die with such information.  

“She was instructed to help you train the small portion they allowed you to manipulate willingly… I was tasked with stowing the rest away.” 

“I crafted the seal that traps the remainder of your power, and now—after 300 years—it’s time to remove it. This can also explain why you loss against those Espada.” 

“Continue.” My curiosity was, without a doubt, intensified at the moment upon mention of my untimely expiry. A battle I was cognizant for, something about the outcome had plagued me from its conclusion. They were powerful, a credit I could give, though to lose at the hands of those I was primed for seemed far too unlikely for someone of my capacity, in that manner, of course.  

“Given how the mechanics of the seal, the eruption of energy wouldn’t have been felt ordinarily, though I—its creator—could sense the sensation as it occurred. In this battle, the seal experienced its first ‘crack’, forcing an ocean’s mass of energy to rout you; basically forcing your body into a state of paralysis... you were stunned by your own power. Likewise, this same failing was your saving grace as this same power most likely saved you; the hit you had taken would have killed men more durable.” 

Within that same breath, two hell butterflies congregated from seemingly nothingness, emerging from the depths of nonexistence to the sides of us, fluttering around. While I hadn’t ushered their arrival, I knew they must have held some purpose; but what? 

“Shi’Kuyo. I need you to take us to the Dangai…. It’s the only location that can comfortably accommodate the procedure we’re about to undergo.”