His WORLD, Her HEART

**Date Started:** 1 January 2022
**Date Completed:** Ongoing
**Users Involved:** User:AbysmalShadows
**Setting:** Seireitei
**Characters Involved**: Nagoriyuki Magatsuchi, Meidō Tsujikaze (Zanpakuto Spirit)

## Turn Aside the Stone

Power welled within him, surging forth like a great tidal wave pressing beneath his skin. It felt like he was going to burst, his own body barely able to retain the power despite the flood of reiatsu drowning the area in torrential winds. Sweat poured from his body and he grunted in effort as he struggled to hold onto his blade. The storm above him was almost deathly silent, but the buffeting winds and stench of ozone reminded him that the power he wielded was not at all under his control.

Even now he could feel his power drain just as fast as it was leaking out, perhaps even more so, and wasn't that terrifying to behold? To glimpse at potential you know not that you possessed yet feel the power that would allow you to defeat even a Captain drain from his person like sand through a sieve. Wrenching the blade gripped so tight in his hands he lifted it upward despite the herculean effort it required. His muscles bulged and tendons frayed as he grit his teeth in a desparate bid to control this incredible power.

Releasing a deafening shout he brought the Zanpakuto down in a simple downward stroke, and the storm above him shifted before suddenly surging downward. The explosion of winds smashing into the earth ripped right through him blasting him off his feet and spinning wildly through the air. Vertigo greeted him with an open embrace and for a moment he was suspended in empty tranquilty. Then the world came crashing down and he slammed into the ground below with a resounding thud. His Zanpakuto cluttering next to him, and the dark storm which had only moments ago threatened him dissipated into nothing.

Gasping for breath he simply lay there in the dirt overcome with exhaustion and fatigue. He had known for some time the name of his Zanpakuto - **Meidō Tsujikaze**, but *knowing* her was something entirely different. Moody didn't even begin to describe her personality and past attempts at reaching out to her ended up in futile silent frustration or being unceremoniously kicked out from his own inner world with a contempuous glare. Of all the things he has gleaned over the years one thing she said stood out.

"*You have my name. What more do you need? Begone*." Was all she had said to him. But that was when he was but a humble mercenary trying to make his way in the world. Truth be told, for a time it was all he needed. She had been his trump card. The undisputed power behind his rise. Any foe he had faced that he could not defeat with his own skill, the utterance of her name was enough to end any threat that had come his way. For many years that was the extent of their relationship. A brute force instrument to crush his foes for coin and glory. Nothing else mattered then. Now....

He was no longer that same man. A fire had been lit within him. To be browbeat by the emissary of the Central 46, a snobbish looking bastard who had more power than all of them combined. He hadn't even sensed an end to his power. It was.... unlike anything he'd ever known. For the first time he understood why these Shinigami were so feared, why they held the mantle of power. He'd been afraid. So... so very afraid. And in that fear, an old desire was lit again, a burning need to ascend to a higher plane.

To transcend the weakling that he was. So he took his position in the Eleventh Division seriously. Paperwork, mission briefings, logistics, all these were things he was familiar with and so he undertook them with passion and dedication. He for the first time in what may have been a long time trained not to simply maintain his power but to hone it. To absorb every morsel of knowledge the Shinigami were willing to give to him and more. He studied ruthlessly, memorized their esoteric magic and blitzed through the innumerable sword styles that had at their disposal.

Vast didn't begin to describe their martial library. A style for every person, every weapon imaginable compiled and dissimenated to whomever desired it. Yet, in all his effort to improve himself, that seed of doubt lingered in the back of his mind. The first time he called on her name, the maelstrom he had summoned had knocked him flat on his ass. Never before had he seen such devilish winds, felt such mind rending darkness emanating from something. Ever since he had struggled to take grasp of this newfound power, each instance of brute force was met with an unyielding presence looming above daring him to take command. This last attempted proved just how fruitless that endeavor actually was. He wanted to get stronger. For the first time in a long time he wanted strength, wanted it so badly that he pushed himself in his training heedless of the damage done to his body. Already the Fourth Division had issued him no less than five citations about his reckless behavior, threatening to keep him under bedrest for a whole month if he continued this.

But they just didnt understand. He thought he'd been strong before, but looking back, that naievete was born out of ignorance. Now he is merely a foot soldier. Stronger than most but where it concerned the real power in the division he was woefully, laughablly behind in terms of power and skill. It galled at him to see his weakness parade itself each and every day, and so he was pushed even more to elevate himself. For that... he would need...

Bankai...

But in order to even achieve something as rare as that, he needed to learn how to wield his power. He needed to understand **Meidō Tsujikaze**. Grunting to himself he wondered when had he become so introspective? Laughing dryly at his own incompetence he lifted himself up and sat down, one leg crossed over the other. Gathering the Zanpakuto in hand, he placed it, reverently atop his legs and focused. Jinzen they called it. It was time he paid her a visit. It was long overdue. Emptying his thoughts, the world faded away into a dark abysmal sea, and then there was silence. Deathly and still, the strange phenomena called to him, and he felt at home. It was then he felt an ominous presence, the darkness around him grew colder, and the dark itself deepend. It was as if it was a darkness beyond twilight.

"*You've arrived*."

Her voice always sounded like that, as if carried by the winds of hell. Soft but menacing. It was less a sound and something more subvocal, as if the power emanating in the architecture of this place poured the meaning of her intent directly into his head. That simple sentence contained so much. She had been waiting, patiently at that for him to come to her once more. Had anticipated this as an eventuallity, had prepared for him. Prepared something for him. A test maybe?

When he opened his eyes there at the center of that endless dark was a stone faintly illuminated by light behind it. That.... that was wasn't there before. It had always been a cavern, illuminated by baleful violet light. Now it was... covered? W-why? His surprise must have carried through their connection because the voice responded in kind.

"*It was necessary. Our power had grown too chaotic. Too much for you to control. Until you overcome this barrier, the strength you desire, will forever remain out of reach. Do not disappoint me.*" With that the presence disappeared entirely, vanishing deeper into the blocked cavern and he was left alone. This was the metaphorical entrance to his inner world, and already he was encountering problems. Then heard... *it*. Narrowing his eyes he felt his body tense involuntarily as a rumbling began to shake the entire space, and the light behind the stone boulder growing brighther and more intense with each passing second. Bracing himself he raised his spiritual power, flooding the space around him in a violet hue. A howling wind screeched like a thousand voices of the damned as the tremors grew stronger.

From within the light, a violent tempest ripped through the tiny cracks forming into a massive maelstrom before him. It was not unlike the wind brought forth whenever he called her name and unleashed its power into the world. Yet before him the storm seemed almost sentient. He felt what must have been a million eyes all around him judging him and finding him wanting. Just breathing in the air itself seemed to burn his insides, and the raging winds whipped about him mercilessly. His skin began to itch and it wasnt long before it began to burn like being lit aflame. He barely managed to form a basic kido barrier around himself, nearly fumbling the incantation but he managed. Looking down at his arm he looked at the damage. His skin was blistering, as if acid had been poured all over him.

That was new. His winds had never before done that. Was this... was this an aspect of his Shikai he hadn't yet been aware of? He crouched low, and he recalled how his lungs burned from the air and it was then he realized that just breathing this in, he was in danger. So all he needed to do was smash the boulder and get inside. Easy enough.

Releasing his hold on the barrier keeping the winds at bay, Nagoriyuki bellowed defiantly as he shot forward towards the boulder. The winds having sensed his moment of weakness surged together barrelling into him and sweeping him off his feet. To describe what he damage he had incurred was akin to being in a storm of swords, each one dipped in acid, slashing him apart, endlessly without pause, without end. Each slash just a surface wound, a knick but it burned as if his very soul was being lit aflame.

His own reiatsu was beginning to feel sloggish, and slow, as though it struggled to respond to his will. He let loose a scream of pain and anguish that would have given even him nightmares as he was thrown bodily back with contempt. Mercifully the winds retreated to surround the rock, leaving him a wheezing mess. Everything burned, his entire body was on fire, and he was bleeding out. He struggled just to place his hands on the metaphysical floor, as he coughed roughly watching flecks of blood drip to the ground. Heaving himself into a knealing position he glared at the stone boulder.

"Alright, so the straightforward approach didn't work." He was hit by another coughing fit, his lungs felt like a conflagration as his hand went to his chest gripping it tightly. Through gritted teeth he breathed in and out slowly, trying to get his senses and focus back under control.