Bleach Hereafter RPG

Yoshinori felt a change in the air upon Muimina's statement. A shift in determination. In motivation. A second wind, perhaps? It hardly mattered. All that mattered now was that Muimina was back on track, and with renewed vigor. In the blink of an eye, Muimina was upon him, causing Yoshinori's eyebrows to soar in surprise, a moment before he twisted his body out of the way, the Nodaichi passing within a hair's breadth of the silver haired Shinigami himself. His pivot foot planted on the ground, Yoshinori righted himself before leaping backwards in attempt to create distance between himself and his opponent.

Only to find Muimina had placed himself behind Yoshinori already.

Eyes widening in surprise, Yoshinori scrambled to find a proper defense. Unable to properly dodge, a rush of pink mist coalesced around Yoshinori's outstretched right hand as it sought in vain to block his opponent's blade. Suddenly, spawning forth from the pink mist, would be Yoshinori's weapon, the golden Kama clashing against Muimina's Zanpakuto, the scream of the locked blades filling the air as they clashed against each other.

"What motivates you, Muimina? Why are you a Shinigami?" Yoshinori inquired, before he sprung into action. Leaping back, Yoshinori whipped his chain in a spiral motion over his head, before casting it forward, the chain moving at an arc in which, if allowed to invade Muimina's space, would pass by Muimina's right shoulder, before coiling around to wrap around the neck. In the case that Muimina was successfully bound by the chain, Yoshinori would yank hard upon the chain in an attempt to not only choke Muimina, but to force him forward. Rushing to meet the Third Seat, Yoshinori would lash out with his Kama, executing a horizontal slash with his weapon towards the Third Seat's right thigh.

Post Count: 9 | Muimina Hyakuji

BATTLE TRACKER




1d100+60·2d10·1d100+60·2d10

Even at such speed, the Second Division Fourth Seat was able to dodge his attacks, the tan-skinned shinigami again widen his distance to prepare for another attack. Hyakuji bit his lip in frustration, drawing a small tint of blood from his lower lip. Yoshinorikeeping himself at a safer distance would leave him at a disadvantage since his weapon was designed for long range attacks. He needed to close himself in as much as possible to get through him, knock him off balance until his strike passed through.

Before he could move though, Yoshinori threw his weapon at him, he followed the direction of the chain with his eyes and tried to predict its landing. He leaped backward to avoid the said attack, but it caught him still, ripping a flesh from his side.

"Gaah!" A loud grunt, as his touched the left side of his torso with his right hand, spilling a large amount of blood on the floor. He would have prepared for a counter, but again, he was caught off guard by another attack, as Yoshi rushed forward, his weapon slashed through Hyakuji's thigh.

"Tsk." He fell on his knees, using his nodachi to anchor himself.

This was probably his first time being wounded so much in a spar. Back in the First Division training hall, he was always among the top despite being a slacker. No one had beaten him up this much except the Captain and the Vice Captain. But even then, he didn't suffer much wounds as he did this day. His dark cold eyes glared at the Fourth Seat, with sheer determination to defeat him. He struggled getting up, almost out of balance, but still managed to do so. He took several deep breathes to regain his composure, as he answered Yoshinori's question.

"I know how it feels to lose someone. To protect somebody, is what motivates to become a death god."

Again, he held his sword with a tight grip, charging forward to Yoshinori as he released a flurry of slashes. He was almost out of control. He was normally calculating, but this time, he allowed his blade to decide where it would land, it didn't matter to him anymore, as long as it would hit his opponent.

Lastly, he backed off, and released another massive black energy wave towards the direction of the Fourth Seat.

PC: 9
Yoshinori Okamoto

COMBAT TRACKER


[h]
I forgot, only basic attacks are added with +5acc while in Released State1d100+65·2d12+1·1d100+65·3d12+1·1d100·1d100

The answer was half expected, half unexpected.

Yoshinori had expected a desire to protect. A desire to act as a guardian. It was a noble, almost picturesque goal that motivated the souls of many to flock towards the Goteijūsantai. It was a tale Yoshinori had heard before, and it was something that never failed to cause the silver haired Shinigami to roll his eyes at the thought of it. However...the subject of loss. Motivation based off previous failure? That was personal. That was something that was taken from Muimina, that dragged on the Third Seat like a weight.

That was something Yoshinori could work with.

Unfortunately, the statement was then accompanied with an almost chaotic rush of attacks, Muimina barreling forward and launching a wide barrage of attacks aimed to catch Yoshinori in the storm. To this effect, Yoshinori was indeed caught up in it, albeit not to the degree that the opposing Third Seat may have been expecting. Feeling the blade approaching his face, Yoshinori jerked his head to one side, albeit the blade still caught him, slicing a gash in his left cheek, blood immediately spewing from the gash. Grimacing, the Fourth Seat turned up the heat, his Kama lashing out to parry the man's wild blows, his hands a blur as he struck out with vigor to carefully counter the man's wild abandon. Sweat poured down his face as he grit his teeth.

As Muimina threw his sword back to then release a pitch black wave of energy, Yoshinori would then fizzle out of view, taking the opportunity to reposition himself as the wave tore through the area where he was a moment prior. Appearing several feet behind Muimina, Yoshinori straighten up quickly, his right hand thrust out, his Kusarigama now dangling in his left hand.

"Then that loss is what makes you different from the rest. At some point, we should talk. Show me the Shinigami you are." His fingers, one by one, curled back, until just his pointer and middle finger remained outstretched.

"Hado #33: Sōkatsui"



From his fingers spewed forth a large torrent of energy, that shot forth in the form of pale blue streams of electricity. Joining together into a massive energy wave, the torrent of Kido energy would rip across the Training Hall, threatening to engulf Muimina completely in its chaotic path of destruction.

Post Count: 10 | Muimina Hyakuji

BATTLE TRACKER




1d100+70·2d12+2·1d100+70·2d12+2

Was he a failure? He never felt so small as this before. He was almost struggling as he fought the Second Division Fourth Seat. Perhaps this was what he got for all those times he slacked during training. If there was one thing he learned during this spar, it was to take seriously every opportunity to challenge himself and become better. He didn't enjoy fighting, but he realized he couldn't protect someone effectively if he could easily be tossed by his enemies. He now had made his resolve to become stronger after this battle.

"There is one thing I think you haven't taught me yet earlier, which I realized just now... To challenge one's self to become better. Not only in fighting. But to become the best version of himself against all odds."

He couldn't turn back now, he expended lots of energy earlier, he couldn't just throw the towel away and surrender.

Before he could make another attack though, he was surprised by his opponent, as he hit him with a massive beam charged with electricity. He tried to dodge to his right, and then blocked with his sword but some still passed through his defenses, leaving his left arm with a large burn. The rest of the energy wave destroyed his side of the training hall. Another energy beam going his way, he rolled over back to his left and completely avoided the damage.

Yoshinori was a tough opponent. But he couldn't resign to his fate. He was already lying down on the floor exhausted, almost out of energy. One more. One more strike, probably, it would hit a good land on his opponent. Again, he stood up, gripped his long sword, and charged forward to Yoshinori, his nodachi over his head as he attempted to strike the Fourth Seat on his head.

Whether he hit or missed, he would fall on his knees, dropping his sword, trembling as he struggled to stand up.


PC: 10
Yoshinori Okamoto


COMBAT TRACKER

1d100+65·2d12+1

The moment of truth had come. The final decision. The final action. Yoshinori had said his piece for the moment, and with Muimina's action came a declaration of his own, the First Division Third Seat responding with his own reflections of the battle past. Motivation to improve oneself, to take the failings of this battle and turn them into a future success. This, accompanied with the bright light of determination that Yoshinori could see in his opponent's eyes, caused the silver haired Fourth Seat to crack a small smile.

"You're stubborn. I'll give you that much."

Yoshinori watched Muimina struggle to rise. He considered briefly whether or not he should drive forward and end the fight without allowing for his opponent to take another step towards him. However, the man ultimately banished such a thought. Even if he wasn't interested in what Muimina would do next with himself, Yoshinori was rarely one to rush headlong into an offensive in order to cut a battle early. After all, there was always the chance that Muimina was hiding something up his sleeve, to which it would be cruel irony for the caramel skinned Shinigami to rush forward in attempt to end the fight, only to be knocked on his ass by some super powerful trump card.

As such, Yoshinori let Muimina advance with his final play. Even green eyes cast upon the Third Seat, he stood as still as a board, his Kusarigama still dangling in his left arm as his right arm stood free. As Muimina invaded his space to strike, raising his Nodaichi above his head to bring down in a vertical slash, Yoshinori extended his right arm in a horizontal guard above his head, applying Reishi to the outstretched limb in an attempt to harden it. As such when the blade struck Yoshinori's forearm, Muimina would be faced with an unexpected degree of resistance, almost as if he were striking hard metal.

That is, until the blade started to dig into Yoshinori's flesh regardless. Trickles of blood ran down the Fourth Seat's arm as the blade cut into him. A shallow cut, but a cut nonetheless. Closing his eyes, Yoshinori offered no words immediately, and as Muimina dropped to his knees, the poisonous mist that plagued the training hall began to dissipate, and Yoshinori's Kusarigama would begin to morph, turning back into the bejeweled cutlass that he had started the battle with.



Dropping his now bleeding forearm, Yoshinori switched hands, the cutlass now gripped by his right hand. The man would swiftly bring the blade to rest under Muimina's chin, stopping just before the flesh. However, Yoshinori would not advance beyond that, simply allowing the blade to sit there, to which the Third Seat could choose whether or not to remain in that position, or to move in effort to keep the cutlass from well...cutting him. Regardless of Muimina's choice, Yoshinori would then speak,

"From the moment battle begins, you are to work to size up your opponent. Strengths, weaknesses, blind spots....your terrain. What you can use to your advantage. What you believe your enemy will use to your advantage. Plan, adapt, execute. Flexibility is what will make or break a Shinigami. Your ability to formulate plans and strategy based off of what you perceive will win you many battles, but if you cannot adapt you will lose many more. Expect your opponent to defy your expectations. Expect your opponent to surprise you. Expect that everything will go wrong...and prepare for it. If you are able to do that at the drop of a hat, then you will be able to handle yourself in battle."

Closing his eyes, Yoshinori would withdraw his Zanpakuto, letting it gleam in the artificial light of the training hall,

"It only takes one second to die."

Post Count: 11 | Muimina Hyakuji

BATTLE TRACKER

He reached for his blade again. As he rolled over to try to stand up, his chin was met by the blade of the Fourth Seat. It was over. Clearly, he was defeated in this spar, and that was the bitter truth. Frustrating as it might seem, he needed to become stronger, not only to prove something to Yoshinori or the other shinigami. He needed to become stronger to protect the people he cared about. Not only Soul Society, or the Kanemi, or the wandering souls they carry to the spiritual realm. But also the people he would forge a bond with in the future, perhaps even the person he would fall in love with, should the possibility to replace Ayame in his heart would ever come.

He looked directly at the tan-skinned man's eyes, listening intently as he spoke. After he finished, instead of reaching for his hands or his sword to support him to stand, he gripped the Fourth Seat's blade tightly, until a flow of blood trickled down his arms, and on the floor. His lips curved up to form a smirk.

"I am not afraid of death."

He pushed his opponent's blade to the side with his bare hand not letting go of it, using it as an anchor as he struggled to get up. When he had managed to stand up, his nodachi returned to its original form.

"I definitely learned a lot from you, Okamoto-san. It was a very different feeling standing with you, side by side as we dealt with Akira. Another, as we fight each other. I would say, I am honored to have this opportunity. And I look forward to another battle some other time."


[283]
PC: 11
Yoshinori Okamoto


COMBAT TRACKER

Carefully, Yoshinori watched as Muimina stood up, his green eyes evenly regarding the defeated Third Seat, as if checking to make sure that the Shinigami wouldn't attempt to attack him again, putting into action some convoluted plan in order to rip victory. As underhanded as such would be, Yoshinori didn't put it past Muimina. But it wasn't personal. Yoshinori wouldn't put it past anyone, namely because it would be something he would do.

It wasn't until Muimina re-sealed his Zanpakuto that Yoshinori would finally sheathe his weapon, his cutlass sliding back into place on his belt. As if conjured from thin air, Yoshinori's golden kiseru (smoking pipe) would appear in his right hand, and in his left a lighter, to which Yoshinori would set ablaze the tobacco inlaid within. Placing the pipe in between his lips, Yoshinori inhaled, before expelling a large plume of tobacco smoke

"Give it a little time, and we can fight whenever you wish to. I for one, would much rather play the slots then be stuck in training sessions with myself. As such, it makes for a mutually beneficial situation when someone drags me away to play with them." Yoshinori remarks, a playful tone to his voice as he turned on his heel.

"Regardless, we should talk sometime. I always love company to distract me from the dullness of work. You're an interesting one...and I like getting to know interesting people. After all, interesting people beat uninteresting people any day." Yoshinori commented as he began to saunter out of the training hall, shooting Kanbei a glance. The exercise overseer hadn't uttered so much as a word since the spar began. As Yoshinori locked eyes with the man, Kanbei simply looked away, not stopping Yoshinori from leaving the exercise early.

"Have a nice day!" Yoshinori commented, still trailing blood behind him. The blood was a symbol. No matter how nonchalant Yoshinori's actions were in regards to the fight, Muimina had done quite a great deal of damage in return to the Fourth Seat Shinigami. One could only wonder what level of destruction could be wrought from their next bout.

Post Count: 12 | Muimina Hyakuji