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| - The day was warm and the sky was clear. The wind blew across the grassy plain, lifting fresh cuttings of greenery and making the young man walking beside the seven foot giant to his right sneeze as those grass cuttings tickled his nose. They were in the spiritual realm many humans deemed “heaven”, and with today’s scenery and weather, it wasn’t difficult to say why they thought such things. The giant was known as Garian Shinjo, statuesque and physically imposing. He stood a little shy of seven feet in height with a strong jaw and prominent nose, features set in their usual playfulness that signalled he was laughing at his young companion for sneezing. The white-haired youth at his side narrowed his eyes, irises almost feline-esque regarding Garian intensely. “What’s with the look, Beanpole-san? Love the outfit, by the way. Makes you look very thin.” Garian said, slapping his shoulder with enough force to make the youth stagger. “You’re an asshole!” the youth bit back. “And my name’s Shintai! Not beanpole-san.” “You forgot about baby-face-kun.” Garian ruffled his small companion’s hair and barked a laugh, running ahead to avoid being hit. “You’re bloody infuriating!” Shintai snapped. “Get back here!” “You’ll have to catch me.” Garian said over his shoulder, long legs easily taking him away from his smaller companion. They ran over hills, ducked through forests, sailed over rivers and lakes with all the freedom of young men with nothing to tie them down. No women to call their own, no home to return to or no job to be about. They were like sheets blowing in whatever direction the wind took them. Day passed and night reared up to meet them, often with them sleeping beneath the stars and sharing stories by the light of a camp fire. Sometimes they had the company of people who liked travelling just as much as they did. Those nights were passed in cheerful banter with tales told, often with an exaggerated re-telling as the night wore on. When night greeted the two companions almost a week later they found themselves in a small village in the vast and never-ending countryside of the realm so many deemed “heaven”. The village was predominately wooden and quite quant, with a friendly air even in night, with lights shining out onto the beaten road between the buildings that flanked it on either side. “Thirsty?” Garian asked, feeling his mouth dry. “I’m a minor.” was Shintai’s reply. “It’ll hardly-” “Kill me, right? I’ve heard it all before, Garian.” His features calmed though, and a smile accompanied his quick stride. “But I will have a seat. Keeping up with you isn’t fun.” “Neither is listening to you. But I got to admit, you make me feel really intelligent and good about myself,“ Garian said with one of his cheeky half-smiles. “Especially when you talk,” Stalking into the biggest building with a sign blowing in the wind outside with a face that could sour milk, Shintai slumped into one of the seats near the fireplace roaring in the back while he massaged his feet. “…Bloody long legged…” He mumbled angrily. “…Making me run after him…” “Evening,” The round-bellied man behind the bar said at Garian’s approach. He regarded the taller Garian with none of the wariness others showed for his height and build, actually greeting him with a firm hand-shake. The barmen’s hairless head shone in the light. He was a man Garian was on friendly terms with, so his drink came before those of the other patrons. “See you finally decided to shave the head, eh?” Garian edged the comment in. “Don’t think of it as you being bald, friend; you really only know how to light up a room.” They shared a laugh and a story or two before Garian excused himself and fell into a chair that barely held his large frame. Once seated and comfortable, he handed Shintai his water with a distasteful twist to his mouth. “Did you get a hook in your mouth?” Shintai asked, reaching for the offered drink with a muffled word of thanks. He had since propped his sealed zanpakutō against the side of the fireplace, with his waraji set in front of the fire to dry them out. “With the stench of your feet can you blame me?” Garian replied without much effort. “Things certainly got quite very quick.” The large man observed. For a place that had been filled with quiet and friendly chatter a minute ago, it was now deathly quite. Only the logs burning in the fire and the shallow breathing of the patrons could be heard. Shintai shared a look with his companion, young features looking perplexed. “That ain’t normal.” Was all he said and the silence suffocated the sound. “Okay, this is getting creepy.” “Wait here.” Garian said, rising. The eyes of the patrons followed him, but Garian didn’t need to reach the door to see what held their collective gaze. The window showed enough. An ominous green light shone in the distance, vibrant against the dark horizon. It was unnatural and completely out of place. Yet Garian could sense the complexities of the weaves; see the light for what it truly was. It was a form of Kidō foreign to the seven-foot giant, yet he could piece enough of what he did recognize to figure they were trying something he himself would have deemed an atrocity and a crime against nature. “Is that…?” Shintai asked, suddenly doubtful. He wasn’t as powerful or as skilled as Garian was in the Shinigami arts. To his inexperienced eyes this was probably the most intricate and long-lasting Kidō display he had ever seen, or was to see in his life. “Yeah,” Garian replied, supplying the youngster with the answer he hoped he wouldn’t. “It’s Kidō all right, yet the weaves are strong. And prolonged,” He leaned forward, curiosity caught. “They’re being directed at something.” A familiar set fell across Garian’s features. “Come on, Shintai!” The two bounded out the tavern door amidst mixed reactions. Some of the patrons nodded as though they were doing the right thing investigating, while others looked like they were suicidal and in need of having their heads examined. Regardless, Garian and Shintai were over the crest of the hill in the minutes that followed. Their zanpakutō were drawn and ready for use. Their eyes fell upon three figures, each with their faces veiled and eyes bulging in shock at being disturbed!
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