Shiro is excited . It's not often they get fights like this--not spars, more serious than that, but also not with the entirety of existence on the line, either. Grimmjow was a good opponent, and if he doesn't piss off anyone and get eaten in the next few decades he stands a good chance of giving them a run for their money… assuming, of course, that their own wild growth rate will slow down a little now that no particular wannabe-god is driving them ever upwards.
In the in-between, though, they have an old dragon who's overstepping his territory. Ichigo is keeping the heavy wash of the man's reiatsu clear of the field with nothing more than his own reserves. It's a wonder that the clash hasn't flattened the entire battlefield and its combatants as well, but Ichigo has been fighting an opponent who would have simply disintegrated anything in his presence. Ichigo's gotten very, very good at dispersing force instead of simply resisting it directly. His careful application of his reiatsu is what's letting everyone even move on the field. Shiro, well, Shiro is a sword at his core, the purest manifestation of Ichigo's soul with all that entails, and this is fun to watch, but he wants to fight . Ryuuken Jakka is old, and dangerous, and Shiro--and the old man, too, he can tell --cannot wait to test themselves against his wielder.
It will be soon. The battle does not sway in favor of the shinigami, and their commander grows steadily more impatient. It's quite obvious that they were not expecting this level of competency from their opponents, which is stupid of them, considering that the base extermination order covered eight basically-captains, and at least one of those is older than Seireitei and known to conceal his abilities. Then you add on the head of the kido division, the head of the ninja division, and the best assassin-scientist the Gotei's ever seen, and adding Ichigo's ridiculousness on top is a little overkill even for them .
But only if you're not counting the Soutaicho. Shinji and Juushiro and Shunsui are powerful, stupidly powerful, but none of them were even close to Yama-jii's power. Unohana-- probably could take him, or at least match him, and after Shinji's recent powerup, he might even be able to hold him off for a good few minutes. But even though the geezer has let himself go a little, it doesn't mean he's sloppy. Or stupid. Or in any way weak . He's a canny opponent, they remember from last time, and if he doesn't quite have Unohana's control he can make up for it in sheer volume of reiatsu he can bring to bear. Not to mention Ryuukin Jakka's abilities, most of which they still don't know.
Oh, this is going to be so much fun .
Shunsui doesn't know what's going on and he does not like it. It's disorienting, like something small but fundamental in the world shifted while he wasn't looking. It's like seeing Unohana for the first time in her calm healer guise after knowing her as the Kenpachi, except exactly backwards. Where is the serious, slightly anxious young man who he'd known a short while ago? The Urahara before him bears little resemblance to that captain. He looks older, somehow, despite that his body has not quite filled out into true adulthood. It's the eyes, Shunsui thinks, that are both warmer and cooler. Anyone coming from Onmitsukido, especially one strong enough to be made Captain, has seen and done things that most other Shinigami-- younger Shinigami, post-Seireitei- founding Shinigami, softer Shinigami-- could never conceive of. Shunsui knows that Onmi takes the dirty work of the entire Gotei onto their shoulders, the shadows balancing the light, and he knows what that can do to a person. Urahara had eyes like that, despite his general mildly puzzled and sheepish air about him-- hard, and tired, and looking at the world as if expecting to have to block a blow in the next second.
His eyes are different now. They're older, sure, tell of more experience and death and personal loss than most shinigami will ever know. They hold weight to them, a grounded confidence that results in a feeling of presence.
But they're softer, too. That confidence only comes from having someone at your back, at your side, who knows you inside and out and still look at you and see something worth saving. Who can tell you when you're nearing the line for those ethics you hold to without instincts for. Shunsui is very, very lucky to have that in Juushiro. It looks like Urahara is one of those lucky few, as well. Given the bits he's managed to piece together-- and the blatantly obvious bit he witnessed himself-- his money is on the rogue Shiba.
He wants the next pieces of this puzzle, but he wants himself and Juushiro to survive this fight first before they even think about it. Because it's becoming very clear, very fast, that the two students of Yamamoto himself, facing off against a single opponent centuries younger than they are, are desperately, hopelessly outmatched.
It's not like the man is throwing excessive power around, either! It's that every single move is made with such efficiency. The amount of skill and precision it takes for that type of finesse is… mind- boggling. Unohana could do it, of all the shinigami he knows, and maybe, maybe , the assassin-trained Shihouin heir.
It gives the term prodigy a whole new dimension.
And he's toying with them. Not particularly maliciously, Shunsui thinks, but still. Every time they try to disengage or change the battleground to something more advantageous to them, they're either redirected until they're back in the center of whatever ground Urahara has determined to be his for now, or else simply… rebuffed. Thus far the edges of their battleground have spit knives at them, spontaneously sprouted razor wire, and blown up on them. Twice!
For a ninja, Urahara seems to be disconcertingly fond of explosions. Even his shields have the tendency to blow up! It's not fair , and yes, Shunsui is aware of the irony of him saying that. But, well. Shunsui likes being in control of things. It's a holdover from Rukongai, and he's certain that he's not the only one to react that way. Yamamoto and Unohana reached for stability. Shinji plays at being a harmless eccentric. And Shunsui and, apparently, Urahara, look to control their surroundings, force them into situations that each can make work to their advantage.
He curses as he has to throw himself sideways to avoid a kido that looks like an odd ripple of light--he doesn't know what it is, but like hell does he want to find out. Juushiro looks about as frustrated as Shunsui's ever seen him, currently fighting a tangle of whiplike vines and getting precisely nowhere. None of these things are going to pose a real threat unless they do something really stupid, but they're very clearly also not going anywhere anytime soon.
Unfortunately for their opponents, the battle is about to end one way or another. At the far end of the field toward Seireitei, Yamamoto is growing restless. The Soutaicho is, perhaps, less than pleased at the showing his soldiers are making. Of course, they're against opponents who were part of the group that practically wrote the Shinigami textbooks, so Shunsui doesn't know why Yama-jii is so surprised, but the old warrior is gearing up to take the field himself, so it's a moot point really.
The Shiba really is doing an admirable job of keeping the battlegrounds safe from Yama-jii's reiatsu. Shusui is used to feeling like he's breathing in water, at this point, but most Shinigami-- and all of their usual enemies-- most certainly are not , and it's an advantage he's not used to dealing without, in conflicts important enough for the commander to stir from his fortress. Frankly, Shunsui has no idea how the boy is managing it, and even trying to wrap his mind around the skill and power needed for… whatever he's doing, is enough to make his head ache.
He wants his fucking hat back, honestly. Urahara wears it surprisingly well, and it somehow manages to match the deep black-and-crimson haori the man has procured. It's mirrored by the crimson-and-black one worn by the Shiba (how does that somehow work with orange hair ?) and it's disgustingly cute and, again, those two are not subtle.
There's no way Urahara hasn't felt the stirring of the Soutaicho's reiatsu, but he doesn't look concerned, which means the scientist is either actively suicidal, or he knows something they don't. Or he just has stupid amounts of trust in his partner, which… fair, Shunsui would trust Juushiro with far more than his eternal soul, but this is Yamamoto they're talking about. The old Shinigami redefines the word monster in a way only Unohana has ever been able to touch.
Shunsui, who is one of very, very few who has seen the Soutaicho fight seriously and lived, knows more than enough to be appropriately terrified. But he can't clear the battlefield, can't even get his comrades out of here, because of this stupid rigged ground. Across from him, flanking Urahara--for all the good that's done them--Juushiro looks as wild-eyed as Shunsui feels.
Urahara sends another string of what looks like fairy lights after them, and those chase them around for a bit before exploding merrily into a chain reaction when Juu tries to deflect one. Both of them lost sight of the inventor once it became clear that the lights were tracking them individually. That's never good, in his short but comprehensive experience.
His fellow Shinigami will have to get themselves off the battlefield. Shunsui has no attention to spare for anything other than survival.
Perhaps it's time to take his own efforts up a notch.
Yoruichi could get used to having this sort of power. The Clan heads are hanging onto her every word, practically begging her to tell them how to save themselves. She's the Shihouin head, sure, but that clan isn't a part of the C46 by virtue of being Onmitsukido. Apparently no one wanted to chance ending up as a political enemy of the assassin clan, who knew. Either way, clan head or Onmitsukido queen, she's never been respected like this. Stupid old farts--it figures the only thing they'd really care about is protecting their own hides when it came down to it. That being said, however, it's useful in this particular instance. She can leverage that desperation and singlemindedness--the priority on themselves will override even their distaste for anything Other. And, well, she doesn't really trust them not to go back on their word as soon as they no longer fear for their lives, but there will be time to work out checks and balances after no one's in immediate danger of termination-- not that they have any true chance of success.
The cannier members of Ichigo's group had sat down and put together a plan that might actually work, on the off chance that the nobles listen to her advice. The ceasefire is a simple thing, but it makes several, critical stipulations that will hopefully be key to both peace and the future of Soul Society. She just has to be good enough to sell it to the Central 46 on the spot. If they want to cause trouble after that, well. Yoruichi has quite a few tricks up her sleeves with her knives. One of them in particular that she's been wanting to try for a long, long time.
Now, with pompous nobles and entitled clan heads all but throwing themselves at her feet, Yoruichi wields a weapon that she's been taught to use since birth, regardless of whether or not she cares to exercise it most of the time.
Words are deadly instruments, after all. She is as skilled with this as she is with anything else, driven by ruthless Shihouin politics and honed by protecting and keeping up with two geniuses, regardless of who tried to steal them. There had certainly been attempts, both politically and otherwise.
Every last one of those opponents lies defeated on the path behind her. This will be no different.
Muramasa watches the battle progress as he skirts the field, slowly flanking the enemy unnoticed. They, much like the rest of Ichigo's soul, are not particularly concerned with any of the matches, except perhaps their own. They have been inside Yamamoto's soul, have looked into the mind of Ryuuken Jakka herself, and they know better than anyone else alive what type of enemy they have set themselves. Their opponent is tricky, decisive, perceptive and ruthless. They have heard from Urahara, alongside Ichigo, of the man's actions during the Karakura siege. That is not a being they want to go head-to-head with, even if they wouldn't bet against their wielder if it truly came down to it. The costs would be… high. It would upset Ichigo and his partner. This is unacceptable.
So Muramasa has a backup plan. Well, mostly, they are the backup plan. This plan, anyway. They have no doubt that between Kisuke and Ossan there are many, many contingencies, cascading with each change of the playing field. But it is highly likely that Ichigo will be fighting the Soutaicho in some capacity.
Ichigo lets the comforting weight of his swords ground him as he stalks slowly forward, combatants scattering out of his path as he comes, letting himself slip slowly sideways into a mindset he's always labeled "hunter."
Across from him, Yamamoto is doing the same thing, closing in to the general panic of those around him.
Ichigo allows himself one last overview of the battlefield-- Kisuke of course has things well in hand, Rose and Love have put down Kiganjo with extreme prejudice, the Shibas and Lisa and Tessai seem to be talking , Kensei is holding his own against the Kuchiki clan head with surprising finesse and unsurprising tenacity, and Unohana and Shinji appear to be completely absorbed in each other to the exclusion of all else, although Ichigo wouldn't bet on that being entirely true if it came down to it. It looks like Unohana has added offensive kido to the mix, but her movements are steadily speeding up as Shinji actually pushes her to keep up. Neither of them have called Shikai; Unohana's isn't particularly combat-oriented and Shinji's is pointless against someone with the master key to their own mind and senses. It seems unlikely that either will call Bankai, but he doesn't have any time to see where their escalation goes, because then he and the Soutaicho are within each other's range, and there's no time to think about anything else.
Yamamoto doesn't try to say anything. He only lifts his walking stick and the wood dissolves away and Ryuujin Jakka is simply there , an elegant katana with a deep royal purple hilt. Ichigo-- and his spirits-- have to repress the urge to bow to her. This is a true queen; she has ruled over all zanpakuto in Soul Society for at least two thousand years; she is the oldest zanpakuto in living memory. Like Zangetsu, she bears no modified soul or standard asauchi as her base form; she was pulled directly from Yamamoto's soul. The old blade carries her own presence with her, even as she still slumbers. No matter how they feel about her wielder's actions, she deserves their utmost respect.
Ichigo can feel the shiver that runs through the blades in his hands and the spirits in his soul. He allows himself a slow smile, raising his own twin katana in a warrior's salute, ignoring the way the temperature around them is rising drastically.
There's a moment of absolute stillness that stretches for a miniature infinity.
Then Yamamoto's eyes snap open fully, his presence snaps like a rippling flag, and they leap forward simultaneously, reiatsu and blades colliding in shockwaves of crimson and black fire.
The world shakes around them as the two titans finally clash.
Pretty much every other fight on the battlefield stops simultaneously. Instantly. Tessai actually breaks off mid-sentence in favor of spinning to throw up the highest bakudo he can cast without an incantation, shielding himself and Lisa and the Shibas. Kuchiki Ginrei and Kensei both freeze where they are, shuddering under the oppressive wash of reiatsu. Juushiro and Shunsui come to attention as the wave splashes against the outer edge of their delineated circle and goes around it ; Kisuke just grins and looks fonder than he has any right to.
Shinji and Retsu just keep going, seemingly oblivious to anything except each other--although it's doubtful that they're as unaware as they seem.
At the heart of Seireitei, every noble and Shinigami present in the meeting chamber, the sealed meeting chamber, sans Yoruichi hit the ground at once. The Shihouin queen staggers only slightly, having been braced for this, and recovers quickly while everyone else is busy peeling their faces off the ground. Shock and awe ripples through the chamber, followed by a healthy dose of fear at the presence that is clearly standing against the Commander without issue.
Yoruichi conceals an absolutely feral grin in favor of putting on her noble mask, blank and smooth and hiding more excitement than should be exhibited at the prospect of wrangling politicians, ever . If these imbeciles happen to think that her mask conceals fear instead, well all the better for her--she's notoriously fearless and anything that can scare her should be taken very, very seriously. Even though these imbeciles have no concept of the true scale of the danger they're in, they know enough to be thoroughly frightened and horrified.
Good.
The first few strikes, a lightning-quick exchange, are only really intended to feel the other out. Much like Shinji and Unohana earlier, they're starting slowly before building up to more serious combat. Unfortunately for the countryside and Shinigami around them, however, even their more "casual" blows send waves of power crashing over the battlefield. No one on the field is anything below Captain-class, perhaps even senior Captain-class, but even so, withstanding the suddenly unbearable pressure feels like trying to force one's lungs to work underwater. Several Shinigami sway on their feet, and even the wide perimeter the Onmitsukido have taken does not prevent several of them from being driven directly into unconsciousness.
The more experienced Shinigami on the battlefield, the ones with experience honing their significant power, and who have experienced the overwhelming strength of the most powerful of enemies, know how to sharpen their own reiatsu into a bladed wedge, not competing with the pressure so much as directing it subtly around them with only the lightest of touches. Those who have not yet had to deal with such pressure in a serious capacity quickly mimic their seniors with more or less finesse. Kiganjo, the stubborn idiot--who is, in fact still conscious somehow despite the absolute battering he's been taking from Love and Rose--is trying to flare his own reiatsu to counter it, with very little success. The Shibas seem to have picked it up fine, although Isshin's technique is a little… wobbly. Kensei, despite not being a Kido type, has mimicked his opponent to great effect. Shinji and Unohana's redirections are both smooth enough that it's hardly noticeable, and they continue to be the only other pair on the battlefield actually fighting .
Ichigo can tell, despite the "slow" start, that the Soutaichou is taking him seriously. Very seriously, and he doesn't really know the old man that well, hadn't spent the same time with him as with most of the rest of the upper-ranked Shinigami, but he remembers watching the most senior member of the Gotei 13 face off with Aizen, far back at the beginning of the Winter War. Certainly that had been nothing like this, despite the Soutaichou's stated willingness to burn the entire battlefield to ashes to neutralize his enemy. Now, the man's reiatsu pounds away at his own, the thrumming heartbeat of a volcano's molten core. The casual, powerful strikes that mark his usual style have given way to something tighter, no less powerful, but with fewer openings and less rest afforded to his opponent. Ichigo's arms would be aching from the first few strikes, if he were anyone but himself. Normally, he'd have simply evaded the blows entirely, but with allies and opposed combatants both on the field, everyone is in the line of fire should he miss a strike. The flames on Ryuujin Jakka are hot enough to be barely visible flickers of clear distortion. Each time Shiro or Ossan comes into contact with her blade, Ichigo has to feed them more reiatsu to keep them from being immediately damaged. His own reiatsu shroud--the one protecting him from the flames as well as the old man's reiatsu, not just the reserves he has blanketing the field--has been condensed into a dense layer merely inches from his skin, slowing and trapping incoming blows like a fly into honey. It's probably the only thing that's keeping his flesh from melting from his bones.
And to think, this is still "easy mode." That's probably the only reason the battlefield isn't a massive crater in every direction.
Ichigo saw enough of that during the War. He really doesn't care to see it again.
He feels a ripple of spiritual pressure and translates it on reflex into a premonition of movement, intercepting Ryuujin Jakka's next blow and pressing the Soutaicho into a blade lock, the two of them not straining with physical strength so much as simply tearing at each other with their reiatsu, lashing out in massive, dense blows falling like whip cracks. Ichigo has much less experience with this form of combat, given that Aizen mostly just disintegrated the physical and spiritual world around him, by the end. He is, however, skilled enough to catch and redirect the majority of the First Captain's strikes to minimize damage to the rest of the battlefield. The wild flaring of their reiatsu makes for the perfect cover, as Ichigo had theorized, and he presses the blade lock harder for just a moment, forcing the Soutaicho to focus every scrap of energy on not being simply overpowered. It's a simple trap, but an effective one.
The man only notices Muramasa when they sink their clawed hand into his back, their own reiatsu completely blended with Ichigo's, indistinguishable from him.
They're a part of his soul, after all. They are him. Of course their presence is nearly identical to Ichigo's. It wouldn't have worked on Unohana, and probably not anyone who knew Ichigo and his spirits very well, but this is the first time he and the Soutaicho have faced each other in combat. There's a lot that the elder Shinigami doesn't know about him.
That he probably won't ever get the chance to know about him. Ichigo doesn't see their relationship becoming particularly close, not after this. Not that Ichigo would have trusted him that much in the first place. The Soutaicho has been party to too many atrocities and places himself too much under the rule of an authority too petty and self-centered to be acknowledged as legitimate in any way, in Ichigo's opinion.
Muramasa reaches out toward him, and Ichigo reaches back, his soul pulling to rejoin itself, and then the world bends and destabilizes as Muramasa pulls all of them together into the Commander's inner world.
The whole battlefield feels the sudden absence of reiatsu. It's like… a vacuum chamber suddenly opened to the air. Kisuke half expects his ears to pop, except that the pressure change isn't physical , as much as anything on this plane is physical. He looks over to see pretty much exactly what he expected-- the Soutaichou and Ichigo have both turned inward in something very much like an extremely rapid descent into meditation. They should be fine; it's much safer to let the two of them battle it out in Yamamoto's soul. There will certainly be less collateral damage.
In the meantime, though, their bodies are left unguarded, vulnerable-- for a given definition of vulnerable, given the heat- wave rippling of intense reiatsu he can see emanating from both figures. Either way, Kisuke isn't about to leave them relatively unshielded. Obviously he's going to protect Ichigo, but they really don't want to have to kill the Soutaichou and ruin any chance of reconciliation with the Gotei 13, much less the Central 46.
So protecting them both it is. The majority of the battlefield is still staring in horrified confusion, which leaves Kisuke plenty of time to act. He digs a tiny red bead out of one of his many pockets, calling it to his fingers with a trace of reiatsu and activating it with a quick twist. The pre-programmed barrier kido inside is one of Kisuke's own creations, a multifaceted crystalline shield that's impenetrable from the outside except by the creator, but will dissolve relatively easily if the right strings are tugged from the inside. He flicks it towards the two on an invisible little reiatsu string, nudging it until it's resting innocuously by Ichigo's foot. The moment he withdraws his string, the bead expands, no longer held by his spiritual power, and snaps into its original form.
There's enough reiatsu poured into that pre-formed barrier that nothing is getting past that unless Kisuke himself, or one of the two protected, takes it down.
He presses down a frisson of natural uneasiness. Ichigo is strong. He's definitely got the Commander well in hand, after all the practice he'd had being wildly outclassed with Aizen. It's just that Kisuke is possessive, and protective, and anything that's out of his reach, that he's unable to affect or influence, makes him…uncomfortable. It's not a matter of trust so much as the lingering need to be the one pulling the strings.
It's fine, though. It's Ichigo. Kisuke would be willing to trust his partner with far more than just this. Has trusted Ichigo with more, with the safety of the world, of all the worlds. With Kisuke's own vulnerability, at a time when he knew that all he deserved was his apology-- too little, too late-- thrown back in his face. Ichigo had reached out, lifted him off his knees, handed him his hat back. He'd scowled reassuringly in a way only Ichigo could manage, still clasping the forearm he'd used to help Kisuke up, and looked him directly in the eyes.
"It's okay, Kisuke. I understand why you did it. I don't blame you."
The absolution was far more than he deserved, and it had only cemented his conviction to stand by Ichigo's side, even if the entire rest of the world deserted him.
He's never regretted that decision, not once.
Now he merely has to trust Ichigo, once more.
Yamamoto's inner world…is Hell. The traditional, fire-and-brimstone version, not the version actually adjacent to Soul Society. Ichigo finds his footing on a crag of black rock jutting out of a sea of fire, and stares out across a landscape pulled straight out of Revelations. "Lake of Fire" might actually be understating the breadth and depth of the boiling, liquid flames. The sheer temperature makes breathing difficult, like being slapped in the face with a wall of heat. The air itself ripples with the heat, occasional wisps of flame igniting amidst the superheated air and dissipating just as quickly.
Wonderful.
Ichigo's inner world is an infinite cityscape of gravity-defying skyscrapers and sky, overgrown by and interspersed with wild forest that has taken over the industrial area to create a very interesting aesthetic. Not quite dystopian, too well-maintained and hopeful for that, but something two steps sideways, where natural reclamation turned into harmony.
There is no harmony here. Only a state of neverending chaos, a blank continuity of wrath.
Despite the violent nature of this world, it, much like Yamamoto itself, is somehow stagnant in its fury.
Well, that's what Ichigo is here to fix, hopefully. He tugs at the threads in his mind, and Shiro and Ossan and Muramasa materialize next to him, each of his blades carrying the extensions of themselves.
It's only just in time, too. A terrible cry of rage, not anything human, or even Hollow, animalistic and primal in its wrath.
Yamamoto stands to their left, on a large slab of the same stone they're standing on, and behind him is Ryuujin Jakka in all her glory.
She's a dragon , an honest, true-to-fantasy dragon, with diamond-hard scales and fire in her throat and breast and wings.
Oh, Ichigo would never trade his spirits, his soul, for anything in the world, but in that moment, all four of them are caught up in a moment of jealousy.
And awe .
And then she speaks.
"Little intruders, you overstep yourself. Know your place."
Her voice thunders through the air around them, shaking them to their bones.
Oh, this is going to be one hell of a fight.
Muramasa's job is to ensure that no one else interferes, and that there is no collateral damage.
They smirk. Perhaps living in Ichigo's soul with two battle-crazed spirits has affected them, but…
They rather think that this might even be a little fun.
Ichigo lets the comforting weight of his swords ground him as he stalks slowly forward, combatants scattering out of his path as he comes, letting himself slip slowly sideways into a mindset he's always labeled "hunter."
Across from him, Yamamoto is doing the same thing, closing in to the general panic of those around him.
Ichigo allows himself one last overview of the battlefield-- Kisuke of course has things well in hand, Rose and Love have put down Kiganjo with extreme prejudice, the Shibas and Lisa and Tessai seem to be talking , Kensei is holding his own against the Kuchiki clan head with surprising finesse and unsurprising tenacity, and Unohana and Shinji appear to be completely absorbed in each other to the exclusion of all else, although Ichigo wouldn't bet on that being entirely true if it came down to it. It looks like Unohana has added offensive kido to the mix, but her movements are steadily speeding up as Shinji actually pushes her to keep up. Neither of them have called Shikai; Unohana's isn't particularly combat-oriented and Shinji's is pointless against someone with the master key to their own mind and senses. It seems unlikely that either will call Bankai, but he doesn't have any time to see where their escalation goes, because then he and the Soutaicho are within each other's range, and there's no time to think about anything else.
Yamamoto doesn't try to say anything. He only lifts his walking stick and the wood dissolves away and Ryuujin Jakka is simply there , an elegant katana with a deep royal purple hilt. Ichigo-- and his spirits-- have to repress the urge to bow to her. This is a true queen; she has ruled over all zanpakuto in Soul Society for at least two thousand years; she is the oldest zanpakuto in living memory. Like Zangetsu, she bears no modified soul or standard asauchi as her base form; she was pulled directly from Yamamoto's soul. The old blade carries her own presence with her, even as she still slumbers. No matter how they feel about her wielder's actions, she deserves their utmost respect.
Ichigo can feel the shiver that runs through the blades in his hands and the spirits in his soul. He allows himself a slow smile, raising his own twin katana in a warrior's salute, ignoring the way the temperature around them is rising drastically.
There's a moment of absolute stillness that stretches for a miniature infinity.
Then Yamamoto's eyes snap open fully, his presence snaps like a rippling flag, and they leap forward simultaneously, reiatsu and blades colliding in shockwaves of crimson and black fire.
The world shakes around them as the two titans finally clash.
Pretty much every other fight on the battlefield stops simultaneously. Instantly. Tessai actually breaks off mid-sentence in favor of spinning to throw up the highest bakudo he can cast without an incantation, shielding himself and Lisa and the Shibas. Kuchiki Ginrei and Kensei both freeze where they are, shuddering under the oppressive wash of reiatsu. Juushiro and Shunsui come to attention as the wave splashes against the outer edge of their delineated circle and goes around it ; Kisuke just grins and looks fonder than he has any right to.
Shinji and Retsu just keep going, seemingly oblivious to anything except each other--although it's doubtful that they're as unaware as they seem.
At the heart of Seireitei, every noble and Shinigami present in the meeting chamber, the sealed meeting chamber, sans Yoruichi hit the ground at once. The Shihouin queen staggers only slightly, having been braced for this, and recovers quickly while everyone else is busy peeling their faces off the ground. Shock and awe ripples through the chamber, followed by a healthy dose of fear at the presence that is clearly standing against the Commander without issue.
Yoruichi conceals an absolutely feral grin in favor of putting on her noble mask, blank and smooth and hiding more excitement than should be exhibited at the prospect of wrangling politicians, ever . If these imbeciles happen to think that her mask conceals fear instead, well all the better for her--she's notoriously fearless and anything that can scare her should be taken very, very seriously. Even though these imbeciles have no concept of the true scale of the danger they're in, they know enough to be thoroughly frightened and horrified.
Good.
The first few strikes, a lightning-quick exchange, are only really intended to feel the other out. Much like Shinji and Unohana earlier, they're starting slowly before building up to more serious combat. Unfortunately for the countryside and Shinigami around them, however, even their more "casual" blows send waves of power crashing over the battlefield. No one on the field is anything below Captain-class, perhaps even senior Captain-class, but even so, withstanding the suddenly unbearable pressure feels like trying to force one's lungs to work underwater. Several Shinigami sway on their feet, and even the wide perimeter the Onmitsukido have taken does not prevent several of them from being driven directly into unconsciousness.
The more experienced Shinigami on the battlefield, the ones with experience honing their significant power, and who have experienced the overwhelming strength of the most powerful of enemies, know how to sharpen their own reiatsu into a bladed wedge, not competing with the pressure so much as directing it subtly around them with only the lightest of touches. Those who have not yet had to deal with such pressure in a serious capacity quickly mimic their seniors with more or less finesse. Kiganjo, the stubborn idiot--who is, in fact still conscious somehow despite the absolute battering he's been taking from Love and Rose--is trying to flare his own reiatsu to counter it, with very little success. The Shibas seem to have picked it up fine, although Isshin's technique is a little… wobbly. Kensei, despite not being a Kido type, has mimicked his opponent to great effect. Shinji and Unohana's redirections are both smooth enough that it's hardly noticeable, and they continue to be the only other pair on the battlefield actually fighting .
Ichigo can tell, despite the "slow" start, that the Soutaichou is taking him seriously. Very seriously, and he doesn't really know the old man that well, hadn't spent the same time with him as with most of the rest of the upper-ranked Shinigami, but he remembers watching the most senior member of the Gotei 13 face off with Aizen, far back at the beginning of the Winter War. Certainly that had been nothing like this, despite the Soutaichou's stated willingness to burn the entire battlefield to ashes to neutralize his enemy. Now, the man's reiatsu pounds away at his own, the thrumming heartbeat of a volcano's molten core. The casual, powerful strikes that mark his usual style have given way to something tighter, no less powerful, but with fewer openings and less rest afforded to his opponent. Ichigo's arms would be aching from the first few strikes, if he were anyone but himself. Normally, he'd have simply evaded the blows entirely, but with allies and opposed combatants both on the field, everyone is in the line of fire should he miss a strike. The flames on Ryuujin Jakka are hot enough to be barely visible flickers of clear distortion. Each time Shiro or Ossan comes into contact with her blade, Ichigo has to feed them more reiatsu to keep them from being immediately damaged. His own reiatsu shroud--the one protecting him from the flames as well as the old man's reiatsu, not just the reserves he has blanketing the field--has been condensed into a dense layer merely inches from his skin, slowing and trapping incoming blows like a fly into honey. It's probably the only thing that's keeping his flesh from melting from his bones.
And to think, this is still "easy mode." That's probably the only reason the battlefield isn't a massive crater in every direction.
Ichigo saw enough of that during the War. He really doesn't care to see it again.
He feels a ripple of spiritual pressure and translates it on reflex into a premonition of movement, intercepting Ryuujin Jakka's next blow and pressing the Soutaicho into a blade lock, the two of them not straining with physical strength so much as simply tearing at each other with their reiatsu, lashing out in massive, dense blows falling like whip cracks. Ichigo has much less experience with this form of combat, given that Aizen mostly just disintegrated the physical and spiritual world around him, by the end. He is, however, skilled enough to catch and redirect the majority of the First Captain's strikes to minimize damage to the rest of the battlefield. The wild flaring of their reiatsu makes for the perfect cover, as Ichigo had theorized, and he presses the blade lock harder for just a moment, forcing the Soutaicho to focus every scrap of energy on not being simply overpowered. It's a simple trap, but an effective one.
The man only notices Muramasa when they sink their clawed hand into his back, their own reiatsu completely blended with Ichigo's, indistinguishable from him.
They're a part of his soul, after all. They are him. Of course their presence is nearly identical to Ichigo's. It wouldn't have worked on Unohana, and probably not anyone who knew Ichigo and his spirits very well, but this is the first time he and the Soutaicho have faced each other in combat. There's a lot that the elder Shinigami doesn't know about him.
That he probably won't ever get the chance to know about him. Ichigo doesn't see their relationship becoming particularly close, not after this. Not that Ichigo would have trusted him that much in the first place. The Soutaicho has been party to too many atrocities and places himself too much under the rule of an authority too petty and self-centered to be acknowledged as legitimate in any way, in Ichigo's opinion.
Muramasa reaches out toward him, and Ichigo reaches back, his soul pulling to rejoin itself, and then the world bends and destabilizes as Muramasa pulls all of them together into the Commander's inner world.
The whole battlefield feels the sudden absence of reiatsu. It's like… a vacuum chamber suddenly opened to the air. Kisuke half expects his ears to pop, except that the pressure change isn't physical , as much as anything on this plane is physical. He looks over to see pretty much exactly what he expected-- the Soutaichou and Ichigo have both turned inward in something very much like an extremely rapid descent into meditation. They should be fine; it's much safer to let the two of them battle it out in Yamamoto's soul. There will certainly be less collateral damage.
In the meantime, though, their bodies are left unguarded, vulnerable-- for a given definition of vulnerable, given the heat- wave rippling of intense reiatsu he can see emanating from both figures. Either way, Kisuke isn't about to leave them relatively unshielded. Obviously he's going to protect Ichigo, but they really don't want to have to kill the Soutaichou and ruin any chance of reconciliation with the Gotei 13, much less the Central 46.
So protecting them both it is. The majority of the battlefield is still staring in horrified confusion, which leaves Kisuke plenty of time to act. He digs a tiny red bead out of one of his many pockets, calling it to his fingers with a trace of reiatsu and activating it with a quick twist. The pre-programmed barrier kido inside is one of Kisuke's own creations, a multifaceted crystalline shield that's impenetrable from the outside except by the creator, but will dissolve relatively easily if the right strings are tugged from the inside. He flicks it towards the two on an invisible little reiatsu string, nudging it until it's resting innocuously by Ichigo's foot. The moment he withdraws his string, the bead expands, no longer held by his spiritual power, and snaps into its original form.
There's enough reiatsu poured into that pre-formed barrier that nothing is getting past that unless Kisuke himself, or one of the two protected, takes it down.
He presses down a frisson of natural uneasiness. Ichigo is strong. He's definitely got the Commander well in hand, after all the practice he'd had being wildly outclassed with Aizen. It's just that Kisuke is possessive, and protective, and anything that's out of his reach, that he's unable to affect or influence, makes him…uncomfortable. It's not a matter of trust so much as the lingering need to be the one pulling the strings.
It's fine, though. It's Ichigo. Kisuke would be willing to trust his partner with far more than just this. Has trusted Ichigo with more, with the safety of the world, of all the worlds. With Kisuke's own vulnerability, at a time when he knew that all he deserved was his apology-- too little, too late-- thrown back in his face. Ichigo had reached out, lifted him off his knees, handed him his hat back. He'd scowled reassuringly in a way only Ichigo could manage, still clasping the forearm he'd used to help Kisuke up, and looked him directly in the eyes.
"It's okay, Kisuke. I understand why you did it. I don't blame you."
The absolution was far more than he deserved, and it had only cemented his conviction to stand by Ichigo's side, even if the entire rest of the world deserted him.
He's never regretted that decision, not once.
Now he merely has to trust Ichigo, once more.
Yamamoto's inner world…is Hell. The traditional, fire-and-brimstone version, not the version actually adjacent to Soul Society. Ichigo finds his footing on a crag of black rock jutting out of a sea of fire, and stares out across a landscape pulled straight out of Revelations. "Lake of Fire" might actually be understating the breadth and depth of the boiling, liquid flames. The sheer temperature makes breathing difficult, like being slapped in the face with a wall of heat. The air itself ripples with the heat, occasional wisps of flame igniting amidst the superheated air and dissipating just as quickly.
Wonderful.
Ichigo's inner world is an infinite cityscape of gravity-defying skyscrapers and sky, overgrown by and interspersed with wild forest that has taken over the industrial area to create a very interesting aesthetic. Not quite dystopian, too well-maintained and hopeful for that, but something two steps sideways, where natural reclamation turned into harmony.
There is no harmony here. Only a state of neverending chaos, a blank continuity of wrath.
Despite the violent nature of this world, it, much like Yamamoto itself, is somehow stagnant in its fury.
Well, that's what Ichigo is here to fix, hopefully. He tugs at the threads in his mind, and Shiro and Ossan and Muramasa materialize next to him, each of his blades carrying the extensions of themselves.
It's only just in time, too. A terrible cry of rage, not anything human, or even Hollow, animalistic and primal in its wrath.
Yamamoto stands to their left, on a large slab of the same stone they're standing on, and behind him is Ryuujin Jakka in all her glory.
She's a dragon , an honest, true-to-fantasy dragon, with diamond-hard scales and fire in her throat and breast and wings.
Oh, Ichigo would never trade his spirits, his soul, for anything in the world, but in that moment, all four of them are caught up in a moment of jealousy.
And awe .
And then she speaks.
"Little intruders, you overstep yourself. Know your place."
Her voice thunders through the air around them, shaking them to their bones.
Oh, this is going to be one hell of a fight.
The Central 46 is, calmly and with dignity (lie), losing their goddamn minds. Yoruichi wants to laugh, except that this is the part of the plan most likely to go horrifically wrong with no chance of correction.
Well, Kisuke almost certainly has something up his expansive sleeves, but it's probably not nice and no one will enjoy it if he finds the need to step in.
Sometimes Yoruichi worries that he'll start deploying specialized enemy-targeted weapons of mass destruction, and then cuts herself off because they already kind of danced around the topic with the discussion of the future-that-wasn't.
There's no cause for worry whatsoever, unless Ichigo falls.
Then they're all doomed, but hey, it's gonna be a wild ride.
Until that point, she's got a job to do.
The clan heads are all panicking utterly, and one day when she looks back on this memory, she's going to cry laughing. Today is not that day.
Yoruichi spreads her reiatsu throughout the chamber, just enough for someone to feel if they were paying attention (no one is). Then, in a trick she learned from Kisuke who learned from Ichigo who learned from Unohana, she rips the heat from the room all at once, plunging the entire area into icy stillness. Several people yelp, but the snap freeze works, and she now once again has the attention of her…prey. She lets the technique go and the room temperature rises rapidly back to normal. All eyes are on her anyway.
"Esteemed Council members, there is no longer time to deliberate. The Soutaichou has engaged the upstart and the outcome is entirely unknown. Will this Council agree to negotiations, or will it remain a battle of extermination?"
For their sake, they'd better chose option one. Yoruichi is rapidly losing patience.
This is the best fight Unohana has had in fifteen centuries, easily . Shinji is skilled, and cunning, older than almost every other Shinigami save herself and the captain-commander, perhaps on par with Yamamoto's students, with the particular edge of feral ruthlessness that comes from growing up in one of the more lawless areas of Rukongai. Now, to add to that, he's got a level of power that makes her bones hum, the fierce edge to it that makes instincts unused for millennia rear their heads.
She hasn't felt a rush of adrenaline like this in a very long time, indeed.
They've escalated from zanjutsu to add in hakuda and kido and nearly undetectably fast shunpo, flowing together smoothly in what Retsu doesn't think is arrogance to call the pinnacle of what shinigami combat aspires to be. The last two thousand years of keeping her head down and demon leashed is worth it, just for this.
They're both bearing a handful of small injuries, inevitable with the speed of their strikes no matter what their skill level.
Shinji's mask isn't the only thing that changed. His kido have become monstrosities she's never even heard of, leaving her guessing at the purpose of each one based only vaguely on how they feel to her, and even that's being hindered by the Hollow flavor suffusing his reiatsu.
Seriously, she has some Very Serious Questions for Urahara after this. Oh, she knows he didn't turn them initially, but the finesse with which the hollowfied shinigami have been stabilized with doesn't come about by accident. Shinji and his hollow form-- his other half? She doesn't know, and she needs answers -- seem to be in perfect harmony, and there's no loss of control whatsoever. If anything, his control has improved since pulling his mask out of thin air. The foreign edge to his thoughts is throwing her off as well, making it incredibly difficult to predict his movements-- and Shinji is one of those tricky fighters who specializes in unpredictability, in catching his opponent off-guard, and now that Retsu is sense- blind, it's as effective on her as it would be on anyone else.
Well, anyone else with over two millennia of experience, but eh. Details.
Her point is, she's having fun, and she can get her answers later, and for now she can just…push herself, in a way she can barely remember ever being able to do against a living opponent.
There's a fraction of her attention dedicated to the captain-commander, whatever he's doing with the Shiba newcomer, but they seem to have each other well stalemated for now, so there's no need to intervene there.
Besides which, she has a feeling that Urahara won't take it well if she tries to intervene, and she doesn't mean she'll get a fight out of it, just end up dead when the assassin-scientist jumps straight to extreme measures.
Either way, it's not currently her problem, so she redirects her attention to a Shinji who's all but cackling in delight.
Perhaps she can recreate some of those kido he's been throwing around? The sensory manipulations, in particular, fascinate her, so it might be worth a shot.
There's everything to lose, after all, and there's no better time to learn than with your life on the line.
Retsu smiles.
Ryuujin Jakka is old . She's tired, sometimes, an inevitable side effect of being a soul tied to mortal flesh, but she is the other half of a warrior, a survivor , an idealist who looked at all the terrible things in the world and thought to fix them, a protector who sought to carve out a safe haven that they could barely even imagine from the bloody chaos that was all they'd ever known.
Therefore, Ryuujin Jakka is also indefatigable.
Somewhere along the way, her other half has forgotten who they were, what they were. What they stood for. For so long now, he has been locking away so much of themselves.
Even though sometimes she can feel the way his spirit is screaming at the injustices perpetrated by those he chose to subordinate himself to.
Even though sometimes his emotions are boiling with turmoil to the point where she can do nothing but cry out for him, for them , giving voice to all the rage and sorrow and fear and betrayal that he in his position cannot.
She knows he can still hear her, even if they no longer speak very often. They have been partners for longer than the Soul Society has even existed. He heard her then without any of the aids developed for most shinigami these days, back when they were all raging against a world determined to beat them into nothingness. He reached for her and she answered, and they became.
For all that his spirit is in disharmony, conflicted with the choice of security or freedom for an entire people, they are still one. In all things, she is his support, even if she does not agree with his actions.
This, however.
This is just disrespect.
Ryuujin Jakka is not amused.
The upstarts are bad enough, rampaging through Soul Society, casting aside all pretense of working with the system, resorting to something that isn't anarchy only because of the individual strength of their leader.
She's seen that before.
She's been that before.
It's not sustainable. Humans are only human, and no matter how powerful any one person, they can be betrayed, blinded, can miss things and make wrong calls and be corrupted themselves.
At what point does one stop , when they start deciding they're above the law?
In her time, it was necessary simply because no law existed at all. But they'd changed that, and when the system was in place, not perfect but better, so much better, they'd subjected themselves to that same law.
She is not blind to the rebels' side of the argument, either. The Central 46 have gone far beyond their bounds, pushing a little more each time, and they have become tyrants. They are bloated and greedy and blind and selfish, and care nothing for the common soul that she and Yamamoto had founded Soul Society to protect. The C46 is the absolute worst of the nobility that oppressed and neglected the Rukongai in equal measure before Seireitei had existed and she despises them, the sort of nobles who would have fallen to her blade back when they slaughtered all that dared stand in their path.
She hates them as much as she can afford to hate anything, but.
But.
That does not mean she will overlook the upstarts' presumption.
Ryuujin Jakka spreads her wings wide, rearing back on her hind paws, and roars at them. It's a harrowing noise, she knows from experience, and she's mildly impressed when the Shinigami's knees don't so much as waver. One of the sword spirits--the Hollowfied one--shudders in delight and anticipation. The other two don't waver, although the androgynous one in purple stiffens faintly, alert if not quite alarmed. She can't see if the expression shifts on the one with the dark visor. He might as well be a statue if not for the rippling of the ragged cloak obscuring his form.
That's another thing that disturbs her about this Shiba. He has three spirits, and she knows for certain that the purple one used to be a partner to a Kuchiki she helped seal personally. As far as she knows, there's never been an instance where part of the manifestation of someone's soul decided to sever that connection in favor of forming a bond with another being entirely.
This newcomer isn't just challenging the status quo; he's demolishing it.
He's also, she notes, not even remotely phased by her existence after his initial awe. It's not feigned; the youth simply has the air of one who's seen worse.
Ryuujin Jakka does not like the idea of being merely another obstacle on a path filled with them. She and her wielder are among the oldest shinigami still living. They were once treated as the worst nightmare of souls and hollows alike. They have been witness of and party to slaughter the likes of which the soft shinigami of today could not even conceive .
His indifference stings her pride, but he doesn't seem as if his steadiness stems from simple ignorance, and that concerns her even more.
What has he seen to make her seem to be anything less than the ultimate terror?
She will find out. She will rectify this.
But first, she will put the fear of herself into them.
Muramasa is not prepared for this. They've known the stakes since they came back in time, and they in particular have been coming to terms with this fight since the battle plans were first laid out. They've been preparing to try to take on Yamamoto and Ryuujin Jakka in the Soutaicho's soul ever since
They're still not ready.
Fear is not a foreign emotion to them by any means, and some days it's still a constant companion whispering or screaming in their ears. It's better now, with Ichigo. His other two sword spirits are perfectly willing to help pull Muramasa out of their own head if need be. But the bitter memory of the taste of fear is slow to fade, and so Muramasa recognizes it in themselves with all the harshness of self-knowledge they cannot afford to turn a blind eye to.
They are afraid.
It's not a foreign concept to any of them, not even to Ossan, who tends to feel most emotions as though through a thick pane of glass and pure logic. They've all been afraid, especially back when fighting an all-but-god was a monthly or weekly occurrence. Ichigo has never feared for himself, only those he's too slow to save. Shiro, despite being the part of Ichigo that's most in touch with his instincts, theoretically , is categorically insane and therefore reacts to fear with something approaching fascination and anticipation.
Which means it's only Muramasa trying to wrestle down the numbing fear enough for their brain to function past their instincts. They ought to be used to it, by now, able to suppress their uncontrolled instincts, but even Ichigo's steadfast companionship has not completely assuaged the bone-deep terror that was once their constant companion.
They're used enough to that to be able to move despite it, though. Their fight- or- flight reaction dials in to "fight" every time, these days, and part of them wonders if that's one of the side effects of becoming a part of Ichigo's soul.
Regardless of all their considerations and fears, they're aware enough to move when the battle abruptly begins, Ichigo launching himself forward with Shiro and Ossan's forms in his hands, closely followed by Shiro in fully Hollow form and Ossan, wielding a copy of himself.
Muramasa does not need to be a frontline fighter in these circumstances; Shiro and Ichigo press the attack while Ossan hovers, guarding their backs and watching for critical openings. Muramasa, therefore, allows themselves to fade into intangibility and vanishes like a wisp of the smoke so prevalent here.
They circle, slowly, keeping a wary eye on the five combatants, four of whom are dwarfed by Ryuujin Jakka's massive bulk-- not that it makes any of them any less deadly. The Captain-Commander is one of the most experienced combatants in existence, and equally cunning and ruthless. Not one of them can afford to make a mistake here. A single failure, a single missed block or unnoticed opening, and he will take full advantage of it, Muramasa has no doubt.
This, too, they are used to.
Aizen had been so far beyond their capabilities that even the thought of challenging him was laughable. Ichigo had spoken of the very first time he had invaded Soul Society, young and naive and perfectly willing to challenge a captain without ever realizing the absolutely massive gap in skill and power and ability. Fighting Aizen had been like that, only to an even more ridiculous extent. Every second of combat had to be technically flawless. They had been so outclassed that even an instant's slip would have been fatal. They'd done it anyway, because the alternative had been losing everyone they'd ever loved, and even then it wasn't enough, but.
Ichigo had been closer than just about anyone else, though. Kisuke had helped, with an assassin's finesse and Benihime's precision and viciousness, but other than the two of them, a handful of the Visored, Tessai and Yoruichi, and one or two of the remaining Captains, even seeing Aizen on the battlefield had spelled death for everyone involved.
And even those had been picked off one at a time, every flaw exploited. Fatally, more often than not. Kensei, Hiyori, Tessai, Mashiro and Rose and Love and Hacchi all at once in a devastating trap, Lisa, Toshiro. Yoruichi. Byakuya. Shinji.
By the end, they really hadn't had anyone left.
So yes, Ichigo was used to being outclassed, and as his spirits, Muramasa and the others had taken to fielding themselves more often than not, trying to provide even a bit more protection and distraction--it wasn't like it had really taken any of Ichigo's considerable reserves.
This puts Muramasa in a position they're quite familiar with, then, despite the foreign time and landscape and opponents. They won't ever be ready to face Ryuujin Jakka and the Soutaicho, but since when has that mattered? They have a job to do.
Settling themselves onto a little spur of rock that is partially sheltered from the waves of destruction emanating from the battle, they turn within themselves and reach .
See, Muramasa is a blade that reaches out and touches souls . They can take any hint of discord within a being and use it to turn zanpakuto against wielder. They can draw forth the sword spirits in the soul they're touching and allow them to manifest. They can silence the bond between spirit and host, making them unable to hear each other or share power. With Koga, they had been able to hijack that connection and force the zanpakuto into doing their bidding, not by directly taking over but by influencing their desires so that what they wanted was what Muramasa wanted.
With Ichigo, they can reach out and splice themselves into that connection. They're not taking over either end, they're just. There. Listening. Understanding.
There is no better way to understand one's enemies than by asking their truest self directly.
So Muramasa reaches out. Not taking, never demanding, but offering, listening . At their core, every being wants to be understood. Consciously or not, some part of a person was always reaching out to those around them, stretching out and searching for bonds whether preexisting or ready to be forged.
It is this deeply hidden nature that Muramasa uses to connect to their opponents.
Most opponents. They had tried once with Aizen, and the experience had very nearly disintegrated them entirely, tearing at the part of them that had been freshly integrated with Ichigo, and had almost shredded their consciousness into nonexistence.
When going over the experience later with Ichigo and Shiro and Ossan, they had come to the conclusion that Aizen hadn't rejected them so much as he had grasped onto the fledgling bond with so much fervor that it had overwhelmed them both. The jagged edges of Aizen's soul, shattered beyond repair by the loss of Kyouka Suigetsu, had grabbed for Muramasa like a man drowning, and nearly killed them both in the process.
The experience imprinted itself on all parties involved, and for all that no one wanted to repeat the experience-- not even Aizen; perhaps especially not Aizen-- the moment of connection had given Ichigo and his spirits a level of understanding and empathy that was…uncomfortable in its depth.
Aizen as he had once been was long gone. The remnant was simply howling out its pain like a maddened animal, and tearing the world apart as it did so.
They'd had a much easier time aiming to kill, after that. It was one thing to know that your enemy was an insane shell of their former self, and another entirely to realize that the part that had been Aizen had been in so much pain that a mercy kill was honestly the kindest option.
Not that it had stopped his shell from devouring everything, allies and enemies and reality itself, cunning with its hunger for power and the scraps of awareness it retained from its victims.
The Hogyouku had been at least as mad as its host, by the time the fateful betrayal had happened.
That will never happen here. Urahara has already ensured it, and in doing so has given them all the chance of a peaceful future that none of them had dared even dream of.
It is up to Muramasa and Ichigo and Shiro and Ossan to cement that opportunity, and they all know how far they're really willing to go to do so.
Yes, they would vastly prefer to make peace with the Soutaichou and the Gotei 13 and the Central 46.
No, they would not hesitate if it came down to them or us. They've lost far too many to allow their resolve to waver, even if that means slaughtering two millennia of progress and stability.
This is the part of them that Yamamoto fears beyond any other. He knows what they're capable of, one monster to another.
It is Muramasa's job to facilitate understanding so that this does not become necessary. Soul to soul, they must come to terms with each other, both good and bad, and find the common ground that will keep them from tearing each other apart. They share some similarities already, of course, first and foremost being the drive they both have to protect . They just need to realize that what they are trying to protect are two facets of the same thing-- easier said than done, but not impossible. Muramasa is patient and persistent. It is only a matter of time until they break through the barrier preventing understanding.
That much established, however, does not mean they're finished. No, this is no easy endeavor. What dragon sways so easily from their resolve?
That part is up to the more combative members of their collective soul. Muramasa will lay the foundation. Ichigo and the others will simply have to drive the knowledge into Yamamoto and Ryuujin Jakka's heads the old-fashioned way-- with a good hard brawl.
Urahara could probably elaborate more fully on the technical details, on how reach interaction and moment of contact only reinforces the bond already established, but Muramasa doesn't need any of that to know and trust that if they handle their part, the others will finish it.
Their bond is unparalleled, after all. Who else can say that part of their soul chose them, tore through prior bonds and rejected their former host in favor of unifying with them?
No one, and Muramasa is not ashamed to be very proud of that.
Together, nothing can stop them.