Training the Future

In less than what could be conceived as an instant, all of Kazuma's appendages had now been restrained by some Kido that he himself was entirely unaware of; to be utilized in his training. He had no problem when it came to physical, not a lot of problem mental seeing as he may not be the most intelligent but when it came to battle he was cunning and quick-witted. His issue had always been this spiritual inner balance crap the Captain-Commander was feeding them. This Kido was taken to an extreme with him, unlike Teijo; his wasn't just weighted it also was bounded. He was on the dirt in seconds, wrists and ankles alike were bound to each other. It was as if this man, this Tsubasa, had it in for him.
"Bastard.." Kazuma wheezed out, having fallen to the ground in which his ribs's fall was broken with his arms. What the...? Did he just cuss? At the Captain-Commander? The hell has gotten into him? To hell with this. Repetitively, Kazuma tried to get up and repetitively he failed. Bound together and weighed by something he was unaware, Kazuma just couldn't get a handle on it. Eventually, after quite the amount of time, he figured out the basis of how to move despite the cuffs and shackles he had now worn as attire; by using his Reiatsu as well as his physical form to move it. So the purpose of these cuffs meant you had to stay at top notch the whole time? Easy enough.

And yet again, he tried to stand and move, his form stood tall once more to make a go at it. He flexed his Reiatsu and charged headstrong forward as if making a b-line toward some invisible enemy that he had his eyes set on to kill, he had gotten just far enough before falling short yet again despite his obvious effort. But what just that in of itself: he had gotten just far enough before he failed yet again. It was like something was wrong with him all of a sudden, a look of shock had played itself along his face as he tumbled and rolled as a result of falling over mid-stride; his limbs having snapped back together. He groaned quietly to himself, his ribs having landed on a rather large and jagged rock somewhere in the tumble which wasn't exactly pleasant. The more he tried the angrier he got, the angrier he got the worse off he got. It was almost as if he was fighting against himself, getting angry only at himself. Again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again and again. He kept trying and trying, refusing to give up or give in but every single time something cut the wind from his sails. He could taste blood in his mouth, most likely a result of one of his many missteps thus far. God, he felt like a fool. How many times had he fell, looked like an idiot, how long had it been, had to at least have been a few hours. Pursing his lips to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth, he gritted his teeth trying to fathom what was wrong with him. Why he couldn't handle something so simple today, whereas he could easily do so before? He figured something about this place left him off kilter but that couldn't be all of it, could it?

"You're so entrenched, Kazuma, that you can't see the forest for the trees." said an all too familiar voice, the spirit from his Zanpakutō. Suddenly, Kazuma found himself in his inner world. This place consisted off a lavish cathedral upon a large rather forested island which was floating above a section of a seemingly endless sea; the two connected only by a dock that connected to the water from the border of the island. The time of day, weather, condition of the inner world and such obviously as with most people was reflected by his emotions and such. This time, he was summoned inside the church; he could hear a large storm beating the outside of the church. Turmoil? On the inside was inner turmoil?! What kind of bullshit was this? "I'm not a fan of losing. But more importantly, I've decided to assist you in something you seem to take pleasure in ignoring." a voice echoed throughout the building, void of a body but none the less real.
"Is that so? And what is it that I ignore?" Kazuma retorted quickly. "Yourself." Bokoseido said, forcing images of all his past into his mind. It's as if he was being force fed something particularly nasty, but unable to so much as fight back. He saw again, the death of those he held dear, the life of a child fade as it was seen as naught but a tool to be used, a young man who held onto his survivors guilt so tightly he denied himself most of all. His feelings, thoughts, even his personality; everything.
"You made a promise to yourself and as your partner; I intend to make you keep it. I refuse to let someone 'I' care about let them kill themselves slowly. If you really wish to redeem yourself in their eyes, then do something that seems to be the hardest thing you could ever do. Live. Live and become someone worthy to protect, so that their deaths weren't meaningless." after those final words from his Zanpakutō, Kazuma came to. It was sunset, the clouds covering what little light there was left. The oath he swore to himself. How could he forget? It was about time he started trying to grow the fuck up, and if need be he could take out his rage on the face of some mother fucker who pisses him off.

Black and dark green Reiatsu leaked from his form like a smoky fire. If there was one thing that was true about his persona, he keeps his word.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!" he screamed, pouring out his Reiatsu as a whole and sustaining it. The trick to this was to stay at the top notch, and he was done doing stuff half assed. He jutted out his limbs from each other, a thin line from the Kido's aura connecting the limbs at a distance as if it was desperately trying to reconnect albeit unsuccessfully. He grabbed the hilt of his Zanpakutō and unsheathed it, the Reiatsu leaking from it was enough to engrash a large gash into the ground that the tip of the blade crossed over as he moved it across his form. He set his sights on one of the dummies, in his mind he only saw the person he hated most; himself. He didn't bother with anything, not so much as a flash step; he charged full speed at it and proceeded to slash at it. Despite his obvious experience in sword play, one could easily tell by looking at him even in a rage; he was physically still working through his problems. Slash, slash, slash, slash and slash. He continued to do so, as he did, another thing was made painfully clear; he was second division. Most of them were easily fatal strikes, the rest would incapacitate an enemy. Wound after wound appeared on his body, blood soaking into his clothes. To hell with that, he wasn't going to do anything half assed any more. Everything was full throttle. He was going to make himself become someone who not only they could be proud of, but someone who he could be proud of to see in a mirror.

Both needed time, they were farther from truth and closer to answers.Hiroshi had his own problems, but Kazuma's spanned further which is why Tsubasa was harder on him. Kazuma was an Unabara, the way he carried himself perhaps was what gave it away. Tsubasa knew them all, he could sense them almost like a pulse. These two hadn't made a choice, internally they needed to come to terms with something deeper than the ocean. Something that prevented people from becoming great, this trial while it's strange nature was something. The dummies were you, that was the key they were yourself. While one method was striking yourself down, you had to realize that their was more to it. That the dummies were beyond just an enemy, they were you and striking yourself was harder than hitting a foe. Only than could you do the task that was required, only than could strike without wounding. This is what made the test hard is no one ever seemed to realize at the beginning, their was more to it than just the dummy is an enemy.

It's logic such as that which prevents you from moving forward, both of them were so set on cutting down the foe. They never walked a mile in the foe's shoes to realize they were cutting down a piece of themselves. Every kill you make takes a part of you, it haunts you and breed's evil within. The true task is accepting that what you do will create darkness, that you are blossoming a future. No pretty words will make killing something good or just, it is a dark act. No matter what pretty dressing you give it, winners will declare it just and something good. No good comes from killing, but it's an evil that exists. Accepting that, allowing yourself to understand that pretty words and such don't lead you to the answer. It's something you must discover yourself, Tsubasa was tempted to tell them. To tell them they were both at a cross roads and must decide the path ahead, they can no longer hide the darkness in their hearts of foes slain. The smell of blood on them, was something clear and it would be a matter of time.

Tsubasa walked to the dummy, letting them each find their path he gently brought his head against it's. Looking at it, he saw himself looking back. A frightened child, no one understands it sometimes they die without ever realizing. When they kill someone, something happens a darkness is embraced in a person. Because that man you kill, could be someone's father or brother. They have family, acceptance is the key and Tsubasa seemed a river that couldn't be read. Because the answer he came to lead him to accept both rivers, to merge them down the line. Evil and Good weren't so far apart, sometimes good men did evil things. No pretty words should dress up these evil acts, people are not one or the other. Good exists within everything but so too does evil. The fact is accepting it is the hardest thing to ever do, these two were being exposed to something even Zeda hadn't scratched the surface of. This was the training that Zeda wasn't ready for even himself, as it makes you question everything.

People weren't simple nor were the inner thoughts, no matter how you ran. No matter how you hid or tried to cover it up, darkness would exist. You could embrace it as many of his people did, turn from it. Dress it up as something else, but accepting it was important to realizing potential. This was the key and perhaps no one understood, no one had struck down someone and realized they struck themselves. The answer to the dummies was depth beyond the oceans and it offered something very few people had. One doesn't rejoice when bringing down an enemy, that isn't the way as you just brought yourself down. Respect thy foe and pay him proper respect regardless of heritage. The cycle of the winner must be kept pure, if you live it's your duty to live your life in honor of his or her memory. You must accept the anger and fury of others. This is simply the way the world is, learning to embrace and accept things. That was the hardest test in the world for some, like moving a rock up mountain going no where.

Kazama hadn't figured this out, it would be hardest for him to realize. Each cut was a step backwards from progress, did his sword realize it? Hiroshi had studied with Tsubasa before, he knew something deep and meaningful was on this lesson. Captains who didn't understand or come to their own place weren't going to be great. Both Hiroshi and Kazuma were destined to take up a haori. Tsubasa could see it, he was the man who wore the Head Captain. The Enigma who saw beyond the reality and the fabric that people did. His fight with Khala had indeed changed him into something else, changed him from the man who had no answer. He found his answer through pain and regret, these two would find theirs someway. Or they would die, something people didn't realize about this place. The Unabara were trained and each man and woman found their own accepting of things. Few found Tsubasa's answer, few could see just how deep the truth ran into these dummies.

Only time would tell, could they strike down their self and realize it without dying? The answers would come soon, Tsubasa stood merely watching it was his duty now. He had to watch over them, in life or death he would be their witness of progress or failure.