rocky roads & broken bridges

Teruo blocked a punch that sent him skidding backwards. Hot red dust obscured his vision, dirtied his hakama, and blackened the soles of his sandals. When he lowered his arms from their crossguard, he noticed that his wrist was numb. He rolled it around in its socket to return feeling, his red eyes never leaving the white shadow before him. 

Despite being a blank slate, the Asauchi was tremendously powerful. It had already began to devour a large amount of Teruo’s reiryoku, turning it into its own and increasing it. Normally this process was done overtime and through meditation, but the bankai doll that gave this spirit a body which kickstarted that process. At the rate is was gobbling up power, it’d return to its true form in a matter of minutes. 

The white shadow, however, was eager to end this battle now. It moved as fast as light itself, its left fist coming around in a haymaker that, when dodged, obliterated the boulder Teruo had backed into. Without wasting a single movement the white shadow continued its momentum into a turn, forcing the former taichou to duck the spinning roundhouse kick. Seeing an opening, Teruo launched upwards, grabbed the asauchi by its throat, and slammed it into the ground. 

That had been a mistake. An obscene amount of power left Teruo’s body and entered into the asauchi, and in response its knees smashed him in his gut and sent his body careening backwards through the air. Teruo bounced once, skidded along the scalding stone, and came to a stop in a trench of sand. Blood mixed with breath, and he cleared his throat by spitting a glob of red into the dirt. 

When the asauchi stood, it was no longer an asauchi. Long cracks ran through its body, and the white skin had turned brown and earthy. Only one mouth-eye remained open and drooling, while the other had been replaced by a polished black stone. 

“You’re returning to life, Jishingakai,” Teruo called out. For the first time in a long while, a smile broke past his lips. 

Jishingakai, however, was not complete. It stomped the ground and exploded forth like an avalanche condensed into a bullet. Teruo spread his arms and allowed the spirit to smash into him. It exploded on impact, its body turning into hundreds of pebbles. Spiritual energy, dark and strong, danced among them and washed over the Father of Mountains. 

“How long has it been, old friend?” 

THE PRESENT 

When the stones reformed, they were different. There were no cracks, and its shape was gleaming white under the sun. Using polished marble for the body, jade for the eyes, and obsidian for the wings, Teruo watched in mild amusement as his spirit recreated his greatest enemy. 

“So, this is the trial I must face,” he spoke coolly. 

---

THE PAST 

An army of shinigami had been gathered at the edge of the Seireitei. They stood along rooftops, in towers, and lined the streets. At the end of the road was a small wooden gate that lead to the buffer zone between the Rukongai and the Shinigami’s capital. An immense power laid just beyond that wooden door. 

Evil. That was the only word Teruo could think of to describe it. It was large and unwieldy and as dark as a moonless night. It was no small wonder that it had ended a battle with so many shinigami so quickly. 

When Teruo reached the door, he stopped. “What’s the situation beyond.” 

A shinigami above answered. “It’s horrible, Taichou. Just horrible. The beast is contained by spells right now but . . .I don’t think Jirin-san can hold off for much longer.”  

Jirin-san, Teruo thought. Jirin was an old hand in the Nanabantai and their fourth seat. As a former member of the Kidoushu, it was no surprise that he had been able to bind whatever great hollow had invaded. But there was only so much a man as old as he could do. 

“Open the door.” And the gate was lifted. 

The buffer zone between the Seireitei and the Rukongai was a beautiful thing. It was composed of white cobblestones lined in blue sapphire. Now it was primarily dyed red and covered in gore. As Teruo stepped out into the light, he found himself disgusted at what awaited him. Mutilated corpses were scattered everywhere like shards of broken glass. The upper and lower halves of the giant gate guardian laid at both sides of his charge. Feces and entrails connected the two, along with a mountain of corpses. 

Teruo realized his left hand was strangling the scabbard of his zanpakutou. He lightened his grip and looked for Jirin. 

A scream echoed through the battlefield. The mountain of corpses that had connected one end of the gate guardian to the other exploded, sending gore and blood splattering every which way. Teruo felt the warmness hit his cheek and nonchalantly wiped it off with the back of hand. Jirin-san, forgive me. 

Jirin was no more. A white hand dropped the lifeless corpse of the veteran to the ground. Its owner stepped over the body, and when the sunlight hit it the hollow seemed to almost glow white. 

It was a tall thing, and humanoid in shape. The horns on its head were stunted, and the wings on its back seemed to be made of black hair. Teruo felt a wave of nausea hit him when the hollow’ss green gaze turnt towards him. There was not an ounce of instinct, desire, or any form of understanding in that dead gaze. 

“Mute Void,” Teruo venomously said. This was a Vasto Lorde of the Hohlreich’s empire. Mute Void was a well known superkiller, having destroyed dozens of Onmitsukidou platoons and having killed the former Juubantai-Taichou and Fukutaichou. “I’d ask you how you got into Soul Society, but I suppose you won’t answer, will you?” 

Mute Void’s head only cocked in response. If the reports were true, it was mute and deaf. Only those evil eyes worked. 

Teruo remembered Akira, the former Juubantai-Taichou. They were drinking buddies when they were younger. When he died, only his zanpakutou had made the journey back. The survivors of the mission in Hueco Mundo said Mute Void had torn the body apart to the point that it was just mush. I will do the same to you. I will destroy you, for Akira and Jurin’s sake.