New Beginnings (training, closed)

It was once again a bright and beautiful day in the Seireitei, not that Weiss ever tired of seeing endless blue skies. Today, however, he felt a little melancholic, for he was leaving the place that had been his home for so long. He had completed the requirements of his Shinigami training, and today he would meet his new mentor from Squad 8. Today, his real training would begin.

As such he was leaning against a wall outside the academy, a small smile on his face as he watched the clouds pass by overhead. Somewhere out there, maybe in the Rukongai, he knew Alba would be watching the same clouds. This was enough to bring him peace.

Such tranquility rarely lasts, and Weiss was jolted from his daydream by a thud. He turned to see a man sitting beside him, wearing the same robes that Weiss wore, and carrying a zanpakto. Weiss ran his fingers over the hilt of his own, marvelling that he at last held one.

"Sorry I'm late." The man lifted his head and Weiss could see him at last. He seemed older, in his mid-thirties, although that was no indicator of age here. He also seemed, from the lines around his eyes, as if he was permanently stressed. "I'm Shiro, from Squad 8. From today you'll be working with me while we see what you can do." He held out his hand and Weiss took it, giving him a friendly smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Shiro. My name is Weiss." They shook hands briefly and Shiro used the opportunity to pull himself to his feet.

"Of course it is. Come on then, Weiss. Haven't got all day, you know. Things to do and all that." He motioned and Weiss followed obediently, reflexively adjusting his clothes out of nerves. They felt odd on him.

"Where are we going?" he asked, looking behind him to see the academy dwindle in size.

"The barracks, of course. Time to put you through your paces, see where we need to work. Squad 8 might not be the most famous or the most violent, or even the most passive-aggressive - you want Squad 4 for that, of course, they can get downright scary in their meekness - but we've always worked hard and done our best, same as all the other squads. I don't want to see you shirking, or you'll feel the business end of my zanpakto." Weiss nodded.

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Shiro, call me Shiro. Only people you need to worry about calling sir are the captains and their lieutenants, Weiss. Some of the seats get pretty uppity about it too but you're not likely to meet them for a long time." The man constantly talked. It was like he had a verbal tic. At least it gave Weiss time to think, to run over his previous training in his head, wondering what it was he'd have to show Shiro. His hand never left the hilt of his zanpakto, tracing his fingers over the elaborate hilt and hoping he wouldn't disappoint.

"Alright, Weiss. This is your room. This is mine, I'm just down the hallway so if you need anything just come and knock. Don't knock too early, I like my sleep. Afternoon is fine. I'll show you the communal areas later. Ah, this is where we need to be!"

Weiss allowed himself to be propelled through the barracks at high speed - he barely had time to note his room before he was past it and pushed into another room. It was large, well-padded and filled with training equipment, dummies and the such. It was so reminiscent of the one that he was used to that it nearly brought a tear of relief to his eye. Nearly, but not quite.

"It's identical to the one at the academy," he commented to Shiro during a break in his running commentary. "Is that intentional?"

"Either the Seireitei are unimaginative, or it's done to create a sense of comfort and relief amongst new recruits. You choose." Shiro ushered him into a corner of the room and drew his zanpakto, an unremarkable looking katana that resembled many of those he had already seen. Feeling a little self-conscious, Weiss drew his own, the hilt settling into his hand neatly.

"Fancy," Shiro remarked. Weiss nodded.

"It's a beautiful weapon. I'm very lucky to have the use of it," he said. In truth, the zanpakto was more than just a weapon to Weiss. It was a memory of his past life, of the fencing classes he had taken and the joy of a duel. Every time he drew the zanpakto he remembered his life, his parents, Alba; everything that had brought him to this point, and he was grateful. So many seemed to forget themselves, only knowing life as a soul. For some, those who had suffered greatly in life or who had been robbed of their time on Earth, this was perhaps a blessing, but Weiss wouldn't trade his memories for all the spirit power in the Seireitei.

"Well then," Shiro said, raising his blade in a salute. "Let's see how well you use it!" Weiss automatically fell into a fighting stance, one hand on his hip, the other extended before him with the rapier, just as he had done all his life.

Wait for the opponent to make the first move. He remembered his tutor's words. It was a chance to analyse, to note whether they were left or right handed, to witness whether they fought with rage and emotions blazing or with cool calculation. It was also an opportunity to fluster, to unsettle, and so he simply watched Shiro with a small smile gracing his lips, waiting.

Patience had always been one of Weiss' strengths, and it paid off; Shiro grew weary of waiting and launched forward with a cry of, "I haven't got all day, you know!" He didn't bother with elaborate movements or feints; the zanpakto was thrust directly at Weiss' heart, or where it had been when he had a body. Weiss brought his own zanpakto up to deflect Shiro's thrust, diverting it to the left. Even with that one movement he could feel the sheer strength that lay behind it, and allowed himself a chance to marvel at how little he really knew. This was a different league to training with the other students, he could feel that already.

Shiro didn't allow him another second to think; the deflected blade was back, arcing down at his hands. Weiss moved out of the way, dancing two steps back in order to allow the strike to pass in front of him. Shiro spun around, exposing his back for mere seconds in order to launch a powerful blow with his zanpakto. The gap was too small for Weiss to capitalise on, and he instead had no choice but to meet the other man's blade with his own. It took two hands gripping his rapier to ensure that Shiro's zanpakto was held back.

"Hmph." Shiro stood back, lowering his zanpakto. "You're not much of anything, are you?" Weiss lowered his rapier, clenching the hilt and exhaling his immediate retort slowly.

"I prefer kido," he said coolly. "Most people here don't understand the elegance of the sword as a weapon, and so they don't treat it with the respect it deserves." Much to his surprise, Shiro finally smiled.

"Well said, Weiss. Many others like yourself forget about the beauty and elegance of their zanpakto in favour of power. Brute strength will only ever get you so far. You must treasure your zanpakto; you must always be aware of it, and it will look after you." Weiss nodded.

"You are much stronger than you look," he admitted finally, deciding honesty was the best bet. Shiro clapped him on the back.

"I am experienced, Weiss. You, unfortunately, are not. But that's what I'm here for, yes? You have patience and quick wits, so I think we'll get along just fine." Weiss sagged with relief. He was worried, for a moment, that he wasn't going to be good enough for the squad. Now he knew that he was just starting off, like everyone else.

"We all have to start somewhere," he commented. Shiro nodded, took a step back, and raised his blade.

"Brace yourself!" He darted forward, and their blades met once more.

Slash. Too close, it trimmed Weiss' hair by a few milimetres.

Clang. Their blades met, Weiss' bounced back from the power of Shiro's and he leapt back to avoid the tip; it trailed through the air where his torso had been only seconds previously.

"Enough." Shiro drew a halt to the proceedings. Weiss dropped to his knees, his zanpakto clattering to the floor beside him. He was soaked with sweat; his clothes were darkened from it, his face shone and his hair clung to it, determined not to be swept away by his hand. He was out of breath, and couldn't even thank Shiro for stopping. When he looked up, panting, he was irritated to note that Shiro wasn't even out of breath.

"Not bad, for a new recruit," Shiro said, sheathing his zanpakto. "You'll come along quickly. Soon, I won't be holding back on you." Weiss stared, completely nonplussed.

"Holding back?" he asked faintly, having finally caught his breath. "That's depressing." Shiro chuckled and held out his hand. Weiss took it, hauled himself to his feet, and retrieved his rapier.

"You're overconfident in your own abilities," Shiro said, but he was smiling when he said it. "Most of you from the academy are. It'll be knocked out of you soon enough, and then the real work begins." Weiss opened his mouth to protest and then closed it sharply. He hadn't been one of the best fighters, but he'd dreamt about taking down Hollows, about sparring with the best in the squads, just like everyone else. Shiro was right.

"Maybe," he hedged, not wanting to admit it even though it was true. "We'll see how well you do next time." Shiro raised an eyebrow and Weiss mimicked him. He was already determined to beat his mentor, one way or another. Shiro must have seen the determination in his eyes for he simply nodded.

"Come. You are tired." There was no arguing with that one. Weiss took a moment to wipe his zanpakto over with his sleeve before sheathing it, the movement earned a nod of approval. He then followed Shiro from the room where they had been sparring, remaining upright through sheer force of will - although he wouldn't admit it aloud, he was exhausted.

After a rest and a cool drink, Weiss felt human again (or as close to human as one could get without a gigai these days). Shiro had thoughtfully allowed him a few moments to reflect while he rested.

That had certainly been an eye-opener. Weiss was by no means an excellent swordsman, preferring to study Kido - though, he thought wryly, he was hardly skilled with that either. Still, he'd thought he would have been able to hold his own. Shiro wasn't even seated, and he had been holding back, and still Weiss hadn't been a match.

More training; he would have to work harder now than he ever had before. In life he'd never had to, until Alba had fallen ill. He'd eased his way through his training mostly by chance, and now he realised just how far he had to go.

Once again he recalled, for the thousandth time since arriving in the Soul Society, the red-haired shinigami. She had been beautiful and deadly, a picture of grace and elegance as she swept in and defeated the Hollow with ease. He now knew that she was no captain or lieutenant, as he could not recall her wearing any insignia that marked her out as one. Unfortunately, he also couldn't recall even the slightest hint of what squad she might have been from.

"One day," he vowed again. One day I will be able to thank her. He had never asked himself what he would do after that, and once again he avoided the question. A shadow fell over him, and he lifted his head to see that Shiro had returned. He wasn't alone; beside him stood a petite shinigami with short black hair and sharp brown eyes.

"Weiss." Shiro ushered the girl forward. "I would like to introduce you to Kitty. She is, as of now, your partner."

"Partner?" Weiss blinked. "Shinigami don't have partners, do they?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell him!" the girl exclaimed, her words short and sharp and fast. "We work alone, amiright?" Weiss looked expectantly at Shiro.

"A word." Shiro beckoned and they stepped to one side, Weiss studying Kitty further. Her zanpakto was a katana that was nearly as long as she was. Her skin was tanned and despite her loose clothing he could tell she was slender and athletic, no doubt fast as well.

"Kitty is temperamental," Shiro explained in a low voice. "You have a very calming influence, Weiss. I'm sure you can see where we're going with this."

"You want me to rein her in?" Shiro nodded.

"Precisely."

"I know you're talking about me!" Kitty had evidently gotten bored of waiting - already, Weiss noted - and marched up to them. Weiss raised an eyebrow as she shoved past Shiro to stare intently at him.

"Shiro, why do I have to be stuck with this pretty-boy?" she sulked. "Look at him! He wouldn't last five minutes. Probably run home crying if he broke a nail." Weiss' other eyebrow lifted to join the first.

"Well, it seems I'll have to be charming enough for both of us," he said smoothly. "I look forward to working with you, Kitty."

"Piss off."

"A pleasure." He grasped her hand and shook it once, then dropped it.

"Make a habit of molesting girls, do you?" Kitty asked nastily. Weiss put an arm around her, ignoring the half-shocked, half-amused look on Shiro's face. He leant over, quite a way - she was rather short, bless her - and placed his mouth next to her ear, noticing the way in which she froze and flushed at the intimate gesture.

"We are going to get along famously," he whispered, an amused smile on his handsome face. He pulled back, unsure whether it was the intimacy or the physical contact that had stunned her into silence, and nodded to Shiro.

"Excellent." Shiro rubbed his hands together briskly. "I'll just leave you two to get acquainted, then." Shiro seemed to be beating a hasty retreat, Weiss noted. He barely had a chance to wonder why before the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end; he half-turned, saw a sword flash down towards him, and leapt back out of the way as Kitty attempted to decapitate him.

"Now, now," he chided, side-stepping her next attempt. After sparring with Shiro, she seemed almost slow. "Is that any way to treat your partner?" Kitty stood opposite him, her eyes flashing angrily, zanpakto firmly in her grip.

"I am going to kill you," she stated, her voice calmer than Weiss would have expected. He sighed.

"And here I thought we were going to be friends."

Although externally he showed only an amused calm, inside Weiss was in turmoil. He didn't feel he could draw his zanpakto on Kitty, yet she was clearly furious over something. Something trivial, he assumed, based on what Shiro had said. Her temper clearly lacked control, yet she was a confident fighter and, if she could work on controlling her emotions, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

How best to encourage her to learn self-control, though? Weiss was circling her now, leaping back to avoid her angry swordstrokes, dodging and twisting and turning while he racked his mind for ways to show Kitty that she couldn't afford to let her anger run riot. Talking to her would do nothing, she wasn't listening any more. It was as if she'd gone, left her body and all it knew to do was fight.

"Draw!" she panted, pausing for a moment to swear at him. "Draw and fight me like a man!"

There. That was it. That was how to get through to her. Somehow, he had to beat her without using his zanpakto. Yes, it would anger her further, but perhaps the humiliation would be enough, just, to make her focus. It didn't matter if she focused on revenge; the first step was to break her of this temper.

Weiss waited for his moment. Kitty launched herself forward, fast - as he knew she would be - and agile. She swung her katana, brought it down in a sweeping slash to his neck. Weiss counted under his breath. Three. Two. One. And there it was; he sidestepped, her zanpakto swished harmlessly past him, and his hand shot out. It caught her wrist. Kitty's eyes widened as she felt the gentle but firm pressure of his hand on her wrist, and her mouth fell open as his other hand smacked hers sharply, causing her to drop her zanpakto, more from shock than anything else. Weiss, still holding her firmly, bent down and retrieved the sword.

"Don't touch it!" Kitty sounded almost anxious. Weiss tutted.

"I think I'm being very generous, considering you were making a sterling attempt at trying to kill me there." He pulled her closer, allowing his warm facade to drop. His voice was like cold steel. "Do not make the mistake of thinking I am a pushover, Kitty. Make no mistake, I will not allow you to harm me." He released her, gave her a slight shove backwards to unbalance her, and then held out her katana.

"If you ever draw this on me like that again, it will be the last thing you ever do."

Kitty snatched her zanpakto back, wiping it over with her sleeve before sheathing it, all the while giving Weiss a menacing stare which would have been far more effective at intimidating him if he hadn't just beaten her. Fairly, too; no tricks, unless you counted relying on her unstable temper a trick. Weiss gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Kitty. What's your surname?"

"None of your damn business, that's what."

"Can't say it's what I'd have chosen, but there you go." Kitty scowled. "Listen, Kitty. We have to work together, so that means you are going to start behaving. You are not going to attack me every time my back is turned. We will spar, and perhaps one day you might even win, if you can ever control that temper of yours." She let out a string of curses that turned the air blue. Weiss remained unaffected, though secretly impressed.

"It might also help if you control that tongue of yours," he pointed out. Kitty gave him the finger. "Look." He reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently but firmly curling her finger back down. His voice grew quiet. "Partners are supposed to have each other's backs, Kitty. You're tough. I'd like you to have mine. But if you keep up this abusive behaviour towards me, I might just look the other way when you're getting eaten by a Hollow. And what's more, I won't even cry. Do you understand me?"

"You'd let me get eaten?" Her whisper was shocked and judgmental. Weiss nodded.

"You're quite happy to try and behead me when I'm not looking. That's not how partnerships work. Tomorrow, you and I will fight properly. I'll even draw my sword. We can spar every day until you can beat me consistently, Kitty, but if we are to work as partners, then I need to be able to trust you." He allowed his sunny smile to cross his face, relaxing as the tension started to flee the girl's body. "I'd like for you to trust me. If you can stop being so antisocial, I think we'd make quite the team." Kitty's fingers relaxed and Weiss let go of her hand.

"I'm sure you have a very interesting backstory," he said warmly. "But I'm not going to force you to tell me why it is you swear like a sailor and hate people."

"I wouldn't tell you anyway," Kitty snapped, but there was less malice in her tone. Weiss nodded, satisfied.

"Tomorrow, we'll rise early and have a rematch. Then, perhaps we can actually work on this partner thing without attempts at murder." When Kitty glared at him, it barely registered; the claws, for now at least, had been retracted.

"I'll beat you," she said determinedly. Weiss shrugged. She wouldn't, not until she could control her emotions, for until that point she would make hotheaded mistakes in the heat of battle, and people like him would capitalise on that. Best not to tell her that just yet, though. It would only make her worse.

"Maybe you will." He lay down in the grass, studying the clear sky. "See you tomorrow, Kitty." She didn't answer. Her feet remained still for a few seconds before she turned and stormed off. Once she was gone, Weiss took a deep breath and let out all the tension he had felt.

Kitty. She was a firecracker, make no mistake. He wondered what it was that had possessed Shiro to place a new recruit with someone so volatile. Weiss was grateful for his self-control, for without it he would have drawn his zanpakto and they would have duelled until someone suffered a serious injury, or worse. He'd never had much of a temper, even as a human, but some things were enough to trigger a cold fury; it was the reason he was dead, after all. He'd tried to take on a Hollow because it had attacked the spirit of a child, and that was an unforgivable sin to Weiss. Kitty had been a good test. Perhaps she would be a valuable reminder of the human lessons that many shinigami had forgotten.

"Well, stranger things have happened," he said to himself, closing his eyes. "This might just work out after all."