The slums of district 80 were an ugly place to be no matter who you were, the people here were cast out to live in the worst environments and naturally they had to adapt or die. These were the man's thoughts as he walked on. His shoes crunching into already shattered glass, turning it into a fine dust as he walked one. His white hair bouncing slightly with each step, his blue eyes alert to anything out of the norm. His hands though were in his pocket rather than on his Zanpakutō. His mind shifted focus to his zan as he walked, lately he had been feeling something from the blade. He had been feeling the presence inside the sword, he had began to become aware of his zan's spirit. He knew its name through a chance encounter but he had no idea what it looked like or what power it would give.
He turned down an ally way, aware he was being tailed by two men, he didn't act as if he knew though. He wanted them to be surprised when he turned the tables on them, a smile crept onto his face but it was hidden in the shadows. His hands sweating in his pockets, itching to fight these evil doers off and make this district just a little bit safer, but he would wait.
|Death is but the first step in life|