like the light was all i had, i struck the book with my last match

[unburden]

Weeks have passed since Rukia last spent any meaningful amount of time around Urahara Kisuke. They see each other almost every day with Rukia being a regular employee at the café, but helping with the cats is a far cry from the type of counsel that Rukia and Urahara usually provide one another. The reason for Rukia pulling back is simple. However much she has learned to expect Urahara to extend his influence wherever possible — provided it's an area of interest — being fully cognizant of how little control she has leaves her feeling uneasy. Angry, as well.

And sometimes, deeply lonely.

But Dean Winchester isn't just any subject. He is, in his own way, a deeply trusted partner whose interests she wishes to protect. And if there's anything that Urahara doesn't have as much patience for, it's teaching the regular discipline and foundational work that every shinigami needs to learn. So she sends Dean an invitation to join her for training one day, curious to see how far he's come, and wanting to make sure the new power he wields is enough to protect the additional attention he's sure to attract.

She settles on a meeting place far into the forest, where she practices her aim by slicing the falling leaves neatly in two with her sword.

Comments

[always_enduphere]

"I used to shoot'em," says Dean, standing on the edge of the clearing. He has his nicest flannel on, of all things, beard trimmed and hair combed, mouth set in a determined, if self-conscious line. Even now, with his sword in one hand and a perfectly willing teacher standing across from him, Dean feels like an impostor, an experienced but clumsy hunter playing at techniques far above him.

"To practice my aim," he says, nodding towards the leaves. "That was before bullets got scarce."

[unburden]

The shift in Dean's soul has been interesting to observe from afar. His reiatsu radiates now in a way that it hadn't before, like a dam newly released, gradually working its way towards a calmer equilibrium. She wonders whether or not Urahara has taught him to mask his powers at all — something he'll need to learn if he wants to avoid being too much of a magnet for Hollows and the like.

But first, she needs to break him out of that nervousness that lingers around him. With a small quirk of her lips, Rukia sheathes her sword, making her way over to Dean.

"It's decent practice, particularly on a windy day," Rukia admits with a nod. "And that's the benefit of swords. If you treat yours with care, it won't give out on you for a long time to come."

She crooks a finger once in front of him, the difference in their heights almost comical. "Bend down. I need to do something."

[always_enduphere]

Dean raises his brows, but he obeys. In his long experience with women - and short experience with shinigami - she's either going to kiss him or poke his soul out of his body, but either way he's amenable.

"How long have you had your sword?" he can't help but ask.

[unburden]

Once he's low enough for Rukia to comfortably reach, she leans in close, keeping her eyes wide and expression solemn.

Up until she reaches to thread her fingers through his hair, giving it a slight muss. It's a risky move — Rukia's encountered many a man very particular about his hair — but she doesn't want Dean to adjust his manner just for her sake.

"I'm not a princess, you know," she jokes with a small laugh. "You don't have to put on airs for me. It's more important to be comfortable. I prefer being around men who can get their hands dirty."

Dropping one hand to the hilt of her zanpakutou, Rukia brushes some of her own hair out of the way. She's due for a haircut soon. "I've had my sword for over a century. For the majority of my life, for context. I remember what it was like to be without her, but... I couldn't easily go back to that now. I did briefly, a few years ago. And it was the loneliest I'd been for a long time."

[always_enduphere]

Dean laughs and lifts a hand, but he lets his hair lay where it's fallen. "I was trying to look presentable," he says, "You know. Like a serious student," but he feels a bit easier now, less tense for his laughter.

And the truth is, most days he feels too comfortable getting my hands dirty. This feels like a step towards something cleaner, if Dean can just avoid fucking it all up.

"She, huh?" he murmurs, and looks down at his own sword. He doesn't know its name yet, but every so often he feels...something stupid, no doubt, and Dean shrugs it off. "Because you're a she?"

[unburden]

"When we get to later lessons, you'll learn that being a serious student is about action. I won't leave you room to worry about your appearance," Rukia tells him with a small smile. It's respect that she appreciates, but unnecessary. Better pushed out of the way.

However hard she's worked to weave herself into the Kuchiki clan, at the end of the day, Rukia's still a girl who grew up barefoot in the streets.

Tugging her zanpakutou out from its sheath, Rukia balances the blade on her hand with a small shake of her head. "The zanpakutou doesn't have to physically resemble its wielder in any way. Doesn't necessarily have the same personality, either. The zanpakutou is your partner. Sometimes the best partners contrast with ourselves," Rukia points out, arching her brow. "My best friend's zanpakutou has two intelligent heads, one a baboon and the other a snake. He is kind of a monkey, though."

She smiles fondly at the memory before holding her sword out by the hilt. "Since Urahara-san isn't one who often releases his zanpakutou, I'll show you what happens when I release mine. You won't see the spirit, but you'll feel her power."

Gaze growing distant, Rukia's expression turns determinedly neutral. "Mae," she declares, spinning her sword slowly with a turn of her wrist. As it moves, the blade, hilt, and tsuba turn completely white, and a white ribbon starts to stretch from the pommel. "Sode no Shirayuki."

As the transformation completes, cold air rushes in all directions. Rukia remembers shivering, the first time she'd discovered her sword's power.

[always_enduphere]

It's beautiful, mesmerizingly so, and Dean finds himself shivering with more than the sudden cold. "Wow," he says, ineloquent and humbled and distracted from the thoughts that had come before, the hopes that his wouldn't turn out to be a monkey.

The partnership makes sense, though. Castiel is nothing like him, and yet they work, complementing each other. It's a comfort to realize the zanpakutou will do the same - and probably won't turn out to be a monkey. "It's like snow."

[unburden]

"Sleeve of white snow. That's what her name means," Rukia says with a soft smile. Her countenance always changes slightly once her zanpakutou is released, almost though as if compelled to calm by the cold. The sword won't be too happy with her for having released under such casual pretenses, but Rukia's pretty sure she can bring some reason to Sode no Shirayuki. Instruction can be just as important as combat.

"Her abilities are all temperature-based. Three versions of shikai, the initial release, and one version of bankai, her final release. In the first dance, if I draw a circle with Sode no Shirayuki, everything within that circle is frozen, from the ground and stretching up to the sky. The second dance once again requires a circle, but I stab four corners within the circle, causing an avalanche of cold air to spread and freeze everything in its path. And her third dance allows me to alter the very blade by freezing the water in the air, thereby letting me hit opponents who are far away," Rukia adds, letting the tip of her blade drop near the ground, where it freezes a small circle of grass. "In her final release, she freezes everything around her, including myself. Right now, I have power enough to go about a block's radius, and my own temperature can be dropped to absolute zero for a brief amount of time. But that attack can easily go wrong. Any rash action, and your body splinters."

Rukia raises her sleeve slightly, showing a gash that's mostly healed, extending from wrist to elbow. Just from yesterday.

She glances up with a small smile. "Some of my friends have always said I can be very cold when I deem it appropriate. That might explain the sword I've been given."

[always_enduphere]

Dean smiles faintly. "I haven't seen you like that, yet," he says, but it's true that he has yet to see her tactics in battle. That first hollow years ago is the only real fight they've ever shared, and Dean had known next to nothing of her world, then.

He drops his gaze to study the long gash streaking up her arm. He'd fallen into a frozen lake when he was young - Dean doesn't need to be told how deadly the cold can be, but still..."I never thought of it as a weapon before. How long did it take to learn her name?"

[unburden]

"I'm sure you'll see me like that in time," Rukia replies with a faint smile, lowering her sleeve again. The wound will likely be healed before another day passes, but she isn't rushing it. It's a sobering reminder of the care that she needs to exercise in everything that she does.

Especially now that she's trying to help another shinigami find his bearings.

"It took years for Sode no Shirayuki to tell me her name. When I entered the Academy, it was as a young girl from a poverty-stricken district in Soul Society. I wasn't well-educated, I wasn't very worldly in the ways that my peers were," she adds, shrugging with a slight shake of her head. "It made confidence a bit harder to build, and I think she could sense that. A zanpakutou usually doesn't reach out with its name until it seems its bearer ready. I needed to have a better sense of self and confidence in what I knew before I could take that to battle."