Dangerous Women

The willingly get disarmed only to have her sword reappear in her hand trick wouldn't prove more than a nuisance the second time around. Kanae was quick to adapt in the heat of battle, if she wasn't she certainly wouldn't have survived half a millennium in the Soul Society of a thousand years ago. A lesson she had long since learned was the real threat in battle wasn't speed, or strength, or durability, or even skill. Beyond all else, it was the unique abilities of her enemies. Outclassing your foe didn't guarantee victory, and being outclassed didn't necessitate defeat. She would prove this, here and now.

Against someone like Murasaki, Captain Commander of the Gotei United, no movement could be wasted, no amount of energy expelled needlessly. Every swing of her sword was a step toward victory, or else she may stumble and fall. Kanae's violet eyes scanned Murasaki, her sword, and how she wielded it as they fought, no detail left unstudied. She was certainly skilled. Skilled and fast, beyond comprehension at times. But she wasn't infallible. Not even Yamamoto was; even he was scarred.

Kanae's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in both Murasaki and the battlefield. No longer was the Captain Commander's presence bearing down upon it all; now she just was. Possibilities ran through Kanae's mind but she was given little time to think as the woman stepped forward, eliciting a threatening warning from Tosatsusha.

Dodge, Kanae!

Maybe it was because, like Murasaki, Tosatsusha is also a Zanpakuto, and as a result could understand her better. Or maybe their combined experience simply led him to believe she had done something dangerous. Either way, Kanae didn't plan on arguing with her partner and by the time the woman's sword began descending she was already stepping to her right.

Too late.

Blood spurted out like a fountain from Kanae's body as the pain of a deep laceration rocked her mind. But she would not be dissuaded. As if she had gone untouched, Kanae was already lunging forward, her sword spilling from its holder in a flash of lightning, its edge seeking to cleave Murasaki from hip to shoulder. Her eyes told the story of a woman possessed, predatory determination pushing her on and on.

That sort of response to her attack told Murasaki a great deal about her opponent, such willingness to simply accept a wound and utilize that window of opportunity. If she hadn't been in Musonzai, she probably could have responded far more ffectively, but she wouldn't back down, either. Her foot struck the ground just quickly enough to move with the stroke of Kanae's blade, and so while she avoided being cut open, Murasaki was still left with a notable stab wound, one that she felt all the more sharply as her Musonzai ended and her expression returned to its lighter, more chipper state.

"You're pretty quick. That's impressive."

Murasaki understood that this little bout was more than mere 'sparring,' but that didn't mean she was interested in being pushed any further than necessary. Being the Captain Commander meant being one of the last defenses in Soul Society, so she had no intention of simply asserting the full scope of her strength, especially here in what was ultimately an unimportant match. She took a quick breath to recenter herself, and then was right back on the offensive. Her blade became hardly anything more than glints of light, as it cut countless times toward Kanae in the blink of an eye.

It seemed the 4th division's captain favored iaijutsu, so Murasaki would simply refuse to give her any chance to re-sheathe her blade.

A compliment from an enemy, no matter if in a friendly duel or match to the death, was practically an insult to Kanae. She couldn't recall a single instance of a foe complimenting her a thousand or more years ago, and yet here was the mightiest force Soul Society had to offer speaking saccharine. Others had spoken with such flowery language as well, and with each word of kindness sent her way her opinion of this Gotei generation soured further. Granted, Kanae thought, she herself had showered Murasaki in compliments just a short time ago. At least she knew her own words to be insincere.

The sensation of blood tricking down her left arm, darkening her sleeve and Captain's Haori, brought with it, if only temporarily, a feeling of success as well. Finally, she had landed a blow on this woman; their wounds reflections on each other. Still, she could not grow eager or complacent from a single injury. It would require far more to overcome this foe, and with it being a simple spar ultimately even a victory would lack finality. The only thing she could spare a thought on was the moment, else she would find herself crumpled on the ground.

As their swords sung their metallic song, Kanae felt herself being pushed more and more by Murasaki's hand. She simply could not keep up in an extended clash. As-is Tosatsusha barely managed to eke out a defense against her assault. Kanae thought about every observation and sensation this fight had proffered her. What had she learned? When did this woman seem the least unconquerable? An image flashed within her mind.

Yes, there. For just a moment she was vulnerable.

Within the claustrophobic space between Murasaki's sword striking and recoiling, Kanae blitzed forward with all she could muster and sought to plant her left foot between Murasaki's, after which she would pull it right to knock the Captain Commander off her feet in a risky maneuver that would leave herself open to attack should it fail. Then, once more, Kanae slashed her Zanpakuto across the possibly-falling Murasaki's chest in a blisteringly quick counterattack.

Very impressive. The vast majority of Murasaki's experience against the captains from before her tenure had come during her time in the academy way back in the day, and even then, she didn't quite get along with most of them. But while Kanae was fast, Murasaki was faster. Her footwork was more practiced, and her instincts were perhaps second to none in the modern Gotei. She'd felt that aggression coming toward her, practically seen the woman's course of action already.

She angled her blade downward this time. It seemed she was being underestimated still, and while she might have been a cheerful woman, she understood the importance of her position. That it was a matter of authority, and that someone willing to push her like this would need more than glancing blows to understand the reality of her dedication to this role. As Kanae's leg moved to the right, Murasaki's sword simply flashed through the air, a single purpose in the stroke; to simply cleave Kanae's leg from her body, using the woman's own momentum to further ensure the blade struck true.

They had plenty of competent healers in the Gotei. Even Murasaki herself knew sufficient kaido to reattach a limb, after all. If this was a clash of blades, a measure of skill, then half-measures weren't ever going to be sufficient, and Murasaki understood that it was exceptionally likely both of them were being limited in the extreme simply by avoiding any truly lethal attacks. Though she couldn't completely evade the slash across her chest because of such a commitment, she wasn't bothered by such a wound, either. She could heal it, and it was the nature of combat to expect an injury.

No progress could be made without sacrifices. When Kanae saw that wretched blade begin to fall upon her leg like a guillotine, she gritted her teeth and did all she could to pull it back to reduce the coming injury's severity as much as she could. Her own Zanpakuto still sought to cleave through Murasaki, and just losing a leg would not be enough of a threat to prevent Kanae from achieving her objective, and the wild look on her face reflected the determination within her.

Pain seared through Kanae's leg. Blood splattered across the ground around the two women. The Fourth's Captain could feel her weapon strike true, that unmistakable sensation of steel through flesh she had loved since the first time her fingers wrapped around Tosatsusha. Every time they fought they were reminded of their first killings, and the warm aftermath of her parents' blood dripping from sword and wielder. But this was not like that time; now, Kanae stood drenched in her own blood.

After their recent clash Kanae Flash Stepped a short distance away, nearly stumbling to the ground in the process. Though she could still feel her leg beneath her, when she shifted weight to her other side and lifted the limb Murasaki had nearly disjointed from her body little more than skin and sinew prevented the bottom half from falling to the ground. Blood poured from her split leg, with muscle and bone peeking out behind the crimson liquid curtain. The remaining skin holding her leg together was ever-so-slightly tearing like ripped paper, so to prevent further damage Kanae shifted so both pieces of the limb reconnected.

Though sweat now wet her brow and pain rocked her mind, Kanae managed to speak to her would-be dismemberer "You may have...little respect for the old ways, Murasaki. But..it is the old ways...that allow me to disregard something as...unimportant as a limb...and continue fighting." Huffs and winces of pain kept interrupting her, but she continued on nonetheless. "That is the Gotei I am from. Acceptable losses are always acceptable..." As she spoke Kanae reached down with her right hand still gripping Tosatsusha, and began performing Kaidō on her leg, the green glow of her hand sewing and sealing skin to skin, though this would be a mere band-aid as anything beyond that would be impossible in these circumstances "...so long as we kill our enemies."

What was injury to a sword? Simply one more inevitability of a battle. Murasaki simply remained centered as she felt Kanae's zanpakuto cut through her, the here and now of her fight far more pertinent than something as transient as the pain of a wound. She heard Kanae's words, thinking about them carefully as the other captain began to heal her wound. Murasaki, too, brought a hand upward, kaido patching the injury across her chest as she spoke. She knew kido well, after all, and as she spoke, her voice was sure, confident. Unlike the girlish and cheerful voice that she so often had, this was sharp as a blade, cutting through the air so anyone watching the bout could hear.

"So what? The old ways died. Captain Commander Yamamoto gave his life up for Soul Society. Captain Commander Iriko gave up the Gotei 13 itself. This Gotei, the one you're in now, isn't the one you came from. In another 2000 years, maybe there'll be another Gotei that's taken this one's place. Know why?"

She was finished healing herself, or rather, finished with this little effort. It wasn't like Murasaki much minded fighting with an open wound. If anything, it was just something you should expect in a fight. Without holding back, she bolted toward Kanae's weakened side at full speed, knowing fully well how much of a weakness that cut would be. Her hand gripped the hilt of Kiaishi firmly, and without hesitation she unleashed another of her most extreme techniques. After all, even the pinnacle of her skill was only one more hurdle to overcome. If she had reached the top of the mountain, she would simply build another one herself to climb.

"'Cause what matters is bein' able to grow. Move forward. If you're so busy bein' stuck in the past, then ya might as well just cut your own guts open now n' get it over with."

Kochuu Kyokiri (虛宙 虚切り, Empty Space Void-Cutter).

Murasaki's blade moved so quickly that even she couldn't keep up with it, only aware of its motions due to her mastery of the weapon itself. Every cut through the air was followed by another, all in the space of such a brief moment that there was no time for the vacuum left to fill itself in again. A technique of slashes so perfectly spaced as to create a total vacuum surrounding the foe, to send their body into agony with both the environment and its impending collapse, to say nothing of the myriad cuts in that fraction of an instant.

"But me? I won't tolerate slackers leading my Gotei. Acceptable losses're just an excuse weak captains use to justify their failures, so don't waste your breath talkin' about somethin' so worthless from those old days! Someone with pride as a shinigami, as a warrior, wouldn't ever accept a loss! Every loss, no matter how small it is, is still a failure!"

Meager patches upon their wounds would do little in the long run, but in the short term it would allow both of them to continue this ferocious bout. The Second Division members responsible for maintaining the barrier around them could barely watch on as two of their esteemed Captains cut each other to ribbons. Still, it was obvious which woman was coming out on top thus far. As they expected, their Captain Commander was proving she did not hold such a lofty title for no no reason. Yet she stood her ground.

Though she only grew angry at the mention of Yamamoto, Kanae listened intently as Murasaki speak. She was interested in learning as much about her as possible, the ways she talks, fights, and thinks were all worthwhile tidbits of knowledge for her future plans. Inwardly, Kanae answered the woman's question by claiming there wouldn't be a Gotei in another two millennia, though she kept that to herself. Instead she braced herself, sensing she only had another second or two before the fight would continue. Kanae could feel the two halves of her leg pressing into each other, the bone not-quite lined up properly and burning with pain, but she stood her ground.

As the two had silently decided not to release their Zanpakuto, Kanae instead opted to use as much of Tosatsusha's power as she could while it remained sealed. Reiryoku flowed into her, dampening the immense pain permeating her body while renewing her vigor. Her Reiatsu grew to become a lake of rot weighing down upon the environment. And yet, even with this surge of power, Kanae was left almost entirely defenseless as her commanding officer blitzed her weakened side. When she dragged her leg over so she could face Murasaki head-on, she felt a sickening squish as the pressure she placed on it threatened to tear it off entirely.

Despite it all, Kanae stood her ground.

Hanya Jincho-ryu: Chizome no Tsuki (半夜人屠: 血染めの月 , Midnight Manslaying Style: Blood Moon)

Tosatsusha flew threw the air in a singular crescent slash to put all her others to shame. Every remaining ounce of strength, speed, and will in her body was expelled in this finality. A killing stroke meant to paint the battlefield in crimson.

"Ack..!" As Kanae coughed up blood onto the ground she had collapsed onto, her mind replayed the last half second over and over, trying to get a better picture of what happened. She swung Tosatsusha with all her might, and then pain. Immeasurable pain accompanied myriad slashes her senses couldn't even register. She only knew they happened because of the result, herself on the ground covered in lacerations soaking her torn Shihakushō. She looked for Tosatsusha, but somehow it was now a dozen feet away, on the ground same as her.

Kanae's distorted vision didn't prevent Murasaki's sharp words from reaching her ears. Anger welled up within her, not due to Murasaki's incorrect assumption she particularly cared for "the old ways", but for the notion she was somehow weak for doing whatever is necessary to get the job done. With the little strength remaining in her, Kanae forced herself first to a kneeling position, then, wobbling all the way, to her feet. She put all her weight on her left leg so as to not further destroy her right.

"Phtew." Before she could speak, Kanae spat out the blood welling up within her mouth. "Call it...what you want...losses are inevitable. There was a time...we accepted that...and fought on. But I remember...when losses became unacceptable. Stagnation...real weakness...followed. Maybe that's the Gotei you grew to hate. It's...the same one I hated." Once more Kanae spat out half a cup full of blood. "I grow weary of debating virtues...with the virtuous...ultimately, it is strength that steers fate. I wonder...do you have enough?"

Even now, Nagoshi Kanae fought on. Murasaki respected that tenacity, even if she had no love for the woman herself. As the captain's final technique came toward her, Murasaki did what she could to defend in time, but she had committed to offense. Her strikes mitigated the effectiveness of that attack at least somewhat, but it didn't change that Kanae's blade found some purchase. Locks of green hair blew away in the wind like cut grass, and yet despite the blood soaking through her uniform, Murasaki stood resolute. Proud, dignified, as the Captain Commander should always be.

She had suffered worse than this. She would suffer worse than this again. It was her pride as a shingami, her role as a sword, and her duty as the Captain Commander.

"Losses're inevitable. Death's inevitable, too. But if you're willing to just accept stuff like that when it's all over, why even live?"

Wiping her blade clean, Murasaki returned Kiaishi to its sheathe, satisfied that this bout was finished from a combative standpoint. Even if Kanae thought to keep fighting, she didn't have her zanpakuto, either. In that state, there wasn't any doubt that the bout would be even further decided.

"Every battle I've ever lost is one more drop in a river of blood. Every ally I've ever failed is one more body in a mountain of corpses. If I ignored all of those things, didn't learn from them, didn't aim to be better, then what's it all for? Why even pick up my sword, if I'm not striving in every single moment to be better than I was a second ago? If I'm not strong enough right now, then I will be one day. That's all there is to it."

The possibility of fighting beyond this point was basically naught. Both had been wounded, but Kanae's leg was little more than meat barely held together by tearing skin. She knew well any attempt at moving or shifting her weight would split the limb in half, sending her tumbling to the ground. Yet, as she reflected on the injuries Murasaki had inflicted upon her, her thoughts went back to her endless battles from before that wretched man formed the Gotei. She had sustained worse injuries against those who would become the original Thirteen Captains. This woman would have fit right in with those monsters.

With a wave of her hand Kanae called over some Second Division healers to begin working on her leg and other injuries as she listened to Murasaki speak. From an observer's perspective the two women were arguing for a similar result, but their upbringings and backgrounds seemed to be coloring how they see the path to get there. Before giving her final response, Kanae indicated to one of the healers to bring her Tosatsusha, after which she flicked the blood off and cleaned it with the cleft of her elbow and put her partner away.

"I would sooner accept losses than wallow in them, Captain Commander Kagayaku no Murasaki. It is the inability to accept loss that renders one frozen with fear. I couldn't spare thought nor tear for the dead as legion of Quincies marched on Seireitei. Perhaps you would have acted differently. I am sure you will have ample opportunity to display your principles in the coming days. These are dangerous times we live in, after all." With a fire in her violet eyes, Kanae capped off her speech with a challenge to the future "Next time lets forgo the philosophy and handicaps, Captain Commander Kagayaku no Murasaki. Show these neophytes what terror looks like."