Himawari stood perfectly still in the centre of the training area, a gentle breeze blowing a long stand of perfectly red hair out of her face. She held her Zanpakutō before her, blade down, in her classic reverse grip, the same grip that was constantly getting her scolded for bad sword play by some of her teachers. Why shouldn’t she hold her Zanpakutō in a form that was comfortable for her? Himawari could not understand it; her teachers constantly told her that her blade was an extension of her arm; surely it would be ridiculous to have one’s hand the wrong way round, just because that was what was expected of her?

She swung her blade; a circular swing to the left, then to the right, overhead, before entering first stance of the latest sequence her class had been taught. It was so strange to her, how a sequence of stances designed to teach you to fight could easily resemble a dance. It seemed to flow together in her mind; her Zanpakutō a part of her body, one with herself, her enemy merely her dance partner. The image of a Hollow trying to waltz entered her mind, and the urge to laugh almost broke her concentration. She shook the feeling off, determined to perfect this particular sequence. Goto-sensei had stated she would never be able to do it, right to her face too. What did he know? She was proud of her abilities in sword play; it was one of her better skills.

Stance 1: opening stance; simply and easy, Himawari started upright, her sword crossed horizontally across her body. As she went through motion by motion, she felt the ease of her Zanpakutō. Ranked officers she’d spoken to often spoke of this incredible connection with their blade; an ability to understand who their blade was, just as the Zanpakutō understood them. The movements lead her through a somersault to her left before what would be a swipe at her enemy’s legs. Sweat rolled down her face and neck as she put more and more energy into her practise. She forced all distractions from her mind, determined to prove Goto-sensei wrong. She could do this. She was anything but a helpless case.

+1 *thumbs up*

Himawari buzzed with excitement as she walked down the alleyway, her teammates close behind. She couldn’t believe her class had been permitted a practise session. With hollows too. She looked at the two young men behind her. One was tall with long hair that covered most of his face, the other slightly shorter with short blonde hair and dreamy blue eyes that made all the girls in her class squeal. Himawari rolled her eyes; the Prince Charming type was a fad from three centuries ago. She stopped at a sound and the faint flickering of a reiatsu she did not recognise. She signalled to the other two, one of whom crashed straight into her back. She turned and glared at him.

“What the hell?” She exclaimed in a hushed voice.

“Well you just stopped!” he whispered back.

“I thought I felt something-“she began, before an ear-splitting roar erupted behind her. Himawari span around to a great beast standing over them. A large purple body resembling that of a large rodent, with an overly long neck complete with a grotesque mask, the hollow loomed over them like a cat over a very tiny mouse. Himawari swallowed, before quickly drawing her katana. The Hollow roared again, before its head dived down to the three tiny students. All three dodged, Himawari soaring straight up over the Hollow’s head. She somersaulted in midair, falling straight down towards the Hollow’s mask. But she hadn’t anticipated the flexibility of the Hollow’s long neck and was caught off as it spiralled out the way, and collided with her, the teeth of the mask sinking into her flesh.

Gritting her teeth as to not scream out in pain as the teeth drove deep into her flesh, she drove her katana into the Hollow’s flesh just above the mask. The Hollow did scream out, therefore dropping her. Landing on her feet, Himawari felt her side, blood coming away in her hand. She wiped her hand clean on her leg, before securing her reverse grip again. Her teammates were making about as much progress as her; one had a rather nasty gash across his face. Himawari raced forward, slipping under the Hollow’s defences and up its foreleg. She gripped on tightly as the Hollow bucked under her, its long neck twisting to try and grab at her, using its own leg as a shield, she climber higher, before jumping up onto the base of its neck. She climbed higher, slipping about halfway up. She kept grip with her left hand, before flipping herself higher, swinging for the mask. She made contact, her blade cleaving through the mask almost as easily as butter. The Hollow roared and dissolved beneath her as she fell back to the ground. She dropped to her knees as she landed, her wound now bleeding heavily.

Approved +2 to fighting skill. Nice work keep it up.

Himawari held her blade before her, practising through the basic motions of swordplay. It was the early hours of the morning, the sun barely risen in the bright blue sky, and Himawari was determined to get in some early morning practice before her classes began. She moved through stance by stance, going over everything she’d learnt in the previous day. Her blade moved as an extension of her arm, as a part of her body. Her desire to know more about it, to know more about her blade as its own person had grown stronger than ever.

She could hear the whispers of its voice, echoing within her head, whatever it was saying could not reach her ears though; that was still a mystery. Her desire to solve this mystery was now truly stronger than ever, like an ember of a fire that was now blazing in an inferno. It wouldn’t be long now though. She was growing close to graduating from the academy and soon, she was certain, she and her Zanpakutō would become truly acquainted. She felt like she on her way to meet someone she hadn’t seen in a long time; a long lost sibling or a very old friend. The anticipation was slowly drowning her.

Her tempo increased, and her motions became more extreme as basic swings of the blade evolved into various back-flips, back hand springs, and somersaults. Everything she’d ever learned about combat came flowing out in what any observer whom may have mistaken as some form of dance. Despite her attitude, Himawari was naturally a graceful being, who took great pride in her skills as a fighter. She knew of many others who were far more skilled at so many other aspects of being a shinigami. But this was her pride.

Approved +1 to fighting skill.

Himawari would al ways and forever despise training by herself, for two simple reasons; the first being that she really hated being by herself, as life was always so boring that way; and the second was the fact that if she trained by herself, there was none of the fun she would have with an opponent. She grinned as she thought back to her practise session with Yagami-kun and Ayame-kun. That had been a good battle. But nonetheless, Himawari was now by herself and had no choice but to train on her own. She drew her Zanpakutō, looking ahead at the practice dummy she had constructed to practice on.

It was hard to imagine fighting a Hollow when what you’re really fighting is a dummy made from straw and wood. She knew this was going to take all her powers of concentration but she knew it was going to be so worth it. She looked at it, trying to imagine it as something far more threatening than straw. An image poured itself into her mind; a Hollow the size and shape of a tall human being, a mask and helmet with horns sitting upon its head: A Vasto Lord. She moved forward, going over her basic strikes to the vital points; sides of the head, neck, wrists, lower torso and thighs. She stepped around the dummy in a circular motion; back of the neck, upper back, lower thighs, and calves. She loved her blade more and more with each passing day. It felt like a part of her body, like if it was ever gone, it would be as if she’d lost an arm or a leg.

She sped away from the dummy, attempting a practice move she’d been dying to try. She turned and raced towards the dummy. She swung the blade backwards over her head, as she slid downwards onto her back, sliding between the legs of the dummy. She swung her sword around, cleaving through the legs of the dummy, before pushing off the ground with her hands and flipping back on to her feet. She grinned to herself, before noticing a dull pain on her lower arm. She looked down, “Oh you idiot!” In her excitement, she’d misjudged her swing, resulting in a long thin cut along her arm. She rolled her eyes, “Way to go Himawari. Cut by your own technique.”

Approved +1 to fighting skill.

Himawari stood on the edge of the practice field, her Zanpakutō in hand. Her opponent stood opposite her, sweat clearly visibly on his face. Himawari rolled her eyes; just because he was scared of her didn’t mean he had to show it. The whistle sounded for them to start, and Himawari dashed forward. Her blade immediately collided with his, so hard that sparks flew off.

Her opponent looked visibly frightened now, and Himawari could not help but roll her eyes. Seriously, why even step on to the battle field, if you’re going to cave like a little girl. With a great strain, the guy managed to push her off him, but it was far too late. She pushed straight off the ground, forcing herself back on to him, pushing him on to a defensive. He blocked many of her strikes, and even got in a few of his own, one cutting her right across her cheek. But Himawari was having none of it.

She dropped down, kicking his legs out from under him, before flipping on top, her feet holding his arms down, her Zanpakutō wedged up under her opponent’s throat. Himawari scoffed at herself, it had been far too simple a fight, but Himawari had absolutely no choice over who she was assigned to fight. She got up off him and walked away, sheathing her sword in the process.

+1 to FS. Another class graduated dear! Pretty soon you'll be running the place