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| - The plains were rustling. The sky was almost stained crimson from bloodshed and horror. And I…I couldn't move. Never before had this happened. I, a being of solitude due to my origins was cornered in this unfortunate situation. The guy in front of me—I knew the jerk who was making a weird smile. A crazy Shinigami with white hair, Ryōtaro Suzumebachi. He's the guy I fought several years ago. He was showing the same disgusting smile that ticked me off like always…… He still had a cocky speech. He really did get on my nerves. I already hate him since he is a member of the Royal Guard to begin with. When I tried to summon my Zanpakutō in my left hand, the long sword he wielded started to emit a holy aura…! That light! That aura! That glow! How could I forget! His eerie words were engraved in my mind. "You, child of death and destruction, you're destined to die here!" His grating laugh resounded in my ears, causing me to get pissed off even further. And I retorted; "Sadly, you're too weak to be able to kill me; you're just a pesky bee buzzing around me—and you always will be one. So go on, shoo. I've got more important matters to take care of…like trying to persuade Captain-Commander Yamamoto to abandon the war! You're not being fair here…" Ryōtaro hissed at me, "This is a battle. Of course it isn't fair! Fighting, after all, is a monster born from unfairness and intolerance. I can't stand you! I can kill you. I won't forgive you. Enemies are made for all sorts of reasons. From the moment one makes an enemy, until one breathes their final breath, they are in battle." I snapped, now really irked, "Get the hell out of my way or I'll mow you down, Suzumebachi!" By the way, when he called me a "child of death and destruction", it's because have been immersed in some weird power for my entire life...If I come into contact with an spiritual ability, be it an illusion or a lightning attack, or hell, even something like the Sōkyoku, even a miracle of the Soul King can be dispelled. "Shut up, you arrogant wretch! I'm gonna cut you down right here and now with my Seiken Zanpakutō; Bichū Aoe! Seiken have the ability to actually cut Reason; so against you, it will be considered my "certain-kill technique"!" I shivered. Holy-sword… It's those things that also come up in videogames and light novels, right? I'm a being of reason so it would be the most dangerous weapon for me as well. ….What? The design of the blade, it certainly was unique. By my estimations, it seemed to date from the Nanboku-chō period. The characters,備中 –Bichū , meant "Inside Provision", and Aoe, 青江, means "Blue Creek". By imputing these values and rounding them off to the nearest possibility, it was possible that his Seiken Zanpakutō had hydrokinesis—to put it in simple terms, water manipulation. Nevertheless, I refused to show my fear, no matter how slight it was. "So…"certain-kill technique", huh? You forget…As a being of reason, everything but myself is subject to my corrosion powers. I can kill anything that exists - even if it's a god." Ryōtaro gripped his Seiken and utilized some variant of Shunpō to dart into the air, aiming to swing down upon me with the force of a freight train. Of course, this was where the teachings of the Book of Five Rings came in handy. Miyamoto Musashi once said, "Your attitude should be large or small according to the situation. Upper, Lower and Middle attitudes are decisive. Left Side and Right Side attitudes are fluid. Left and Right attitudes should be used if there is an obstruction overhead or to one side. The decision to use Left or Right depends on the place." I know my stance! Drawing my Zanpakutō, I raised my blade in a defensive motion to the left, only slightly that I'd be able to deflect his blow and deal a punishing attack of my own. But with this reason, I can see channels that normal people can't see, and I'm able to see the spiral of origin within his eyes. But, I can go even deeper. No…maybe I myself am that spiral. Spiral of origin, its where all cause and effect begin, where everything and nothing exist, that is my true identity. Even though we are just connected, but since I am part of it, I too am an omnipotent existence, right? That is why I can do anything…hmm like restructuring the laws governing atomic matter, or go back in time to change the evolution and development of all life, to reconstruct the orders and laws of this world is easy for me too. Not making change to the existing world, but rather annihilate the old one with a new reality. Those were the possibilities of my powers. However, I never wanted them. This Hanako Suzumega always wanted a peaceful life. I wanted to go to school and marry a regular guy who wasn't too ugly and not too handsome. Have three kids; two girls and a boy. Become a stay-at-home mother after my daughters are married and my son joins the 13 Division Imperial Guards, and spend the rest of my life as a writer. Then die of old age before my husband so I won't have to grieve for him. Alas, all things aren't meant to be. I was created by my father, the sage Shuuchiro Ayatsuki several millennia ago—borne from his desire which fuelled the Hōgyoku to create me within the Dangai Precipice World—and the reason which composed that realm served as my composition; so I am a special being. My body is seventy-five percent reason. This obviously makes me superior to other races, but I hate it. Why, you ask? I am alone. To put it in scientific terms, reishi is matter, and reason is antimatter. When it interacts with reishi, it causes reishi to...well die or discorporate. Just by the design of how it functions as a source of energy. Speaking of which, on the Big Bang theory: For every one billion particles of antimatter there were one billion and one particles of matter. And when the mutual annihilation was complete, one billionth remained - and that's our present universe. The same goes for reason, I assume. I'm practically invulnerable to everything, I can defeat almost any foe in two-three hits, and I'll never age! You'd think that'd be a blessing, right? But because of my composition, spiritual bodies, such as the composition of Shinigami and Hollows for example, slowly break down into smaller particles when they are physically touched by me. So, I'm doomed to a lonely existence because everything I touch dies and people reject me because of it. This Hanako Suzumega's existence is a sad one. Anyway, enough angsting. So, Suzumebachi. I know what special abilities you have. I can see the enhancements. I can detect the increased electrical activity in your brain. I know what moves you're preparing to make. I've already fought our fight in my head, in a million different ways. I can hit you without you even seeing me. Even the waves of Poseidon will subside and become merely gentle splashes when faced with the might of reason. "Keep sharp, Suzumega!" Ryōtaro screamed at me, swinging down fiercely like the raging waves that his powers entitled. His expression conveyed pure rage—it basically said 'there's no way I'll let this abomination fight Captain-Commander Yamamoto!' Oho, that's precious. Just as planned! I used Shinka Hakkejin—my Zanpakutō with a gentle motion, fluidly raising it to catch his blow without any effort at all! "Guess I…" I smirked. "…Did the math. After all, I'm second to no-one when it comes to analyzing." It was so easy: it went like this. First, I distracted my foe. Then I blocked his blind stab and countered with a cross to his left cheek. Discombobulated him. Dazed, he attempted a wild slash. I employed an elbow block and body shot. I blocked his feral left slash. I weakened his right jaw. Now I fractured his body. Broke his cracked ribs. Traumatized his solar plexus. Dislocated his jaw entirely. Swung a heel kick to his diaphragm. In summary, his ears were ringing, jaw was fractured, three of his ribs cracked, four were broken, in addition to diaphragm hemorrhaging. Physical recovery: six weeks. Full psychological recovery: six months. With that, Ryōtaro Suzumebachi was neutralized. Stepping over Suzumebachi's writhing body, I continued over to the Captain-Commander himself. He had black hair on the sides of his head and was bald on top. He had a tuft of hair sticking up at the back of his head. He also had thick black eyebrows and a thick, long black mustache. He had a single large scar on his forehead. He also had prominent wrinkles on his forehead and beneath his eyes, as well as shallow checks. He also wore the typical black outfit of a Shinigami. He gave me an indifferent glance. "…Hm? What is a mere child doing in the barracks of the 13 Division Imperial Guards? …More importantly, how did you get past the seated officers?" I pointed down at the Ryōtaro Suzumebachi who was writhing around on the ground, screaming like a little girl. "Seems that your seated officers are really nothing but glorified mooks. Anywho, now that that's out of the way…I've come here to talk about something. You seem hell-bent on wiping the Quincies off the face of Soul Society. Did you ever think that committing genocide is well…wrong? I mean, not only will it throw out the balance of souls, then you'll be labeled as a genocidal bastard for the rest of your life. Plus I'm sure, like every good man, has a sense of morality. Think about it, Yama-jii." Sadly, the shitty old geezer flat-out ignored me. "You don't comprehend it, child. They are unbalancing the soul count. They would kill Hollows and disturb the balance, so the Shinigami have to wipe them out. I will protect the Soul Society, no matter what the cost." I interrupted, "Whoa boy, are you senile or something, you old fart!? Genocide is wrong, and—" "Listen well! Be gone from here! I don't have time nor the patience to teach a mere infant like you how to breathe." The shitty old geezer attempted to release his reiatsu to stop me from saying any more, but due to my reason body, it was like a gentle breeze. I stood calm; persisting, "…Listen to yourself, you crazy old coot! You're no enforcer; you're a goddamn madman!" I refused to back down no matter what. What he was doing was clearly wrong and I was gonna show him that. Yamamoto gripped the hilt of his blade, "Even though there are numerous powerful Zanpakutō originating from Soul Society, I still think the most famous one would be my own. Even in foreign realms, it comes up in many books. It's a holy weapon that is created through the willpower of my spirit. There is only one person in a decade or so who manifests a Zanpakutō as powerful as mine, girl." I wasn't impressed. "…Point being?" "It is not like there aren't. But if you compare it to the first spiritual swords, it is kind of lacking. Of course I am not saying that my Ryūjin Jakka is weak. At the strongest, it has the power to kill a god." I was discovering the mystery behind the history from out of nowhere. Talking to this old fart can be really shocking. "Except, at this point there isn't a Zanpakutō that can compete with my Ryūjin Jakka because this Zanpakutō is too powerful. It's the same with the spirit weapons of a Quincy." He continued to blabber on. I focused on the real subject at hand. "Look, look. The problem here is that it's like talking to a brick wall with you. I guess there's no other choice here, is there?" Yamamoto gripped that harmless wooden staff tightly. "There is no mercy for somebody who obstructs justice. You are a wooden fence which represents my decision to eliminate them that will be reduced to ash in an instant, child." Yamamoto instantly removes that disguise, by peeling off the wood, to reveal the blade's true form of a standard katana with a dark purple handle and a circular hand guard. I wasn't really breaking down into incomprehensible screeching by the mere sight of Ryūjin Jakka, but still, it was gonna be troublesome. By looking around, I could see that the Shinigami were afraid of it—though due to my own composition of reason, I'd be fine, I suppose. Anyway, onto the real subject here: 流 –Ryū; Flowing, 刃 –Jin; Blade, 若 –Ja; -like, 火 –Ka; Flame. Breaking down the kanji that composes each name of a Zanpakutō was essential to victory. It helps with determining the foe's abilities. In this case, Ryūjin Jakka's is pyrokinesis. Yamamoto beckoned to me, "…I am the end of the chain of command. The authority ends here—as does your life."
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