Katanagari [Murasaki, Solo]

The Captain Commander wasn't in today. That was pretty rare, frankly, considering her open-door policy and constant willingness to be present for anyone that needed her. Murasaki had some things she needed to handle, though, a few personal matters that she was pretty sure she'd been ignoring for too long in her efforts to be the best possible Captain Commander that she could be.

Well, at least nobody was going to find her out here in the Outlands. She hadn't been here in a long time, and she'd certainly never traveled this far. Maybe she should have, though. A team to actually figure out what was out here might not be a bad idea. One thing at a time, though. She wasn't here for work, she was here to talk to her zanpakuto. And as the Captain Commander, she made it a point not to let that get shown off to everyone. She had a duty to keep an ace or two up her sleeve, after all.

"Keifu."

Murasaki watched as her zanpakuto spirit manifested, answering her call and studying the mountains of the outlands rather than meeting her gaze. She knew it wasn't a matter of disrespect or anything like that, though. He'd always just been pretty curious about the world.

"Guess I shouldn't call ya that. That's not your real name, huh?"

"It is as real a name as any other you would choose to call me, Young Lady."

The zanpakuto spirit's gruff voice seemed just a bit gentler than usual, and his eyes remained on the landscape rather than meeting his master's gaze. After all, this had certainly been a long time coming. He didn't need to think much on how it was going to go.

"A zanpakuto's name is everything, but a zanpakuto is simply an extension of its user, a piece of oneself. We hide our names as a matter of pride, of strength. It is a measure of the one holding us, and yet the name we carry is not decided until we have been suitably imprinted upon. A curious relationship, isn't it?"

It wasn't meant as an insult, of course. If anything, Keifu knew all too well that what he'd said would likely not be the case for much longer. That was precisely why he'd even mentioned it to begin with.

"My name has always meant little, I think. You, an asauchi, have been served perfectly well in using a blade with a name. But a blade cannot have two names, Murasaki. We may take on false names, be called by other titles and come in other forms. But there is ultimately only ever a single name to which we truly answer, which resonates within the deepest core of our being."

Drawing the sword at his hip, a perfect mirror of Murasaki's own shikai, Keifu turned to face her, a small smile on his lips.

"We are one and the same, Murasaki. And so only one name can remain."

He stepped forward then, at a speed that few but Murasaki could have predicted. This was the final bout the two of them would ever fight, and that was tragic. But if it was to be such, then Keifu would certainly give it his utmost.