天下乱世
Tenka Ransei

Or

"The World of Chaos Beneath Heaven"

Introduction and Disclaimer

Hi everyone :) It's been a while.

Today is December 21st (GMT), which is Juushirou's birthday, and so I decided that if I was going to do this at all, it should be today.

I don't know if anyone is even reading Bleach any more, so if you are reading this, please take the time to review.

This disclaimer may have a few manga spoilers in it, but I have been circumspect as much as I can. However, if you are unsure, feel free to skip it and go straight to the story.

For anyone unfamiliar with my work, these stories are set in a timeline 2000ish years before Bleach canon. This is in keeping with the timelines of Old Bleach. This story is designed to connect to the existing timeline set in place by the Meifu stories (Juushirou and Shunsui at the Academy) and Sukuse. I did this because I wanted to focus on the Senior Captains - Juushirou, Shunsui, Genryuusai and Retsu. This story will actually go even further back into Seireitei history, to a time point approximately 5000 years before canon. Just so people are aware - I like old stuff ;)

When I began writing about Juu and Shun, Bleach was still ongoing. In spite of that, there were numerous spooky coincidences with stuff I wrote about before Kubo-sensei had revealed elements of those characters in the manga. Not everything matched his intentions, but I like to think that, up to the end of the Fullbring arc, I understood his idea process for these characters and worked really hard to keep with that programme as I wrote up to the end of Sukuse.

I do not like the Final Arc. I'm also not the kind of fan who thinks its okay to badmouth the creator of a series when it doesn't go my way. Kubo-sensei tried something new with the Final Arc, he changed concepts and moved away from the original continuity in a lot of places to inject new themes and ideas into his story. That was his right. I am a fan of Old Bleach. That is my right. That is as much as I intend to discuss that. Everyone has their own views, but for me, the Final Arc is largely irrelevant in the writing of this story. I ask for readers to understand this.

I'm writing this because when I finished Sukuse, I still had ideas noted down that I hadn't used. I didn't write them because I wanted Juu's Bankai before I did. We never were given that. But now the series is over. I'm sure you know what that means. The fanfiction floodgates can open. I can't change the Final Arc, but I can give Juushirou the dignity that, as his fan, I believe he deserves.

There is no Mimihagi in my concept of Juushirou and there never will be.

As some of you know, I'm a student of Pre-modern Japanese literature and history, with a special soft spot for the warriors of 12th century Japan. This often influences my writing and this story was my opportunity to actively inject some of those earlier concepts and cultural twists into a Bleachverse. I've done some experimenting with ideas, themes and history in this story. The prologue will give some clue about that, although the full concepts are still developing. This is a story of the past colliding with the present. It is possible now only because Bleach is over.

I can make no guarantees about the timescale of uploading the chapters. Nor in what order or quantity any character will appear. I guess we'll see where we go. There's 24 chapters or so already written but my schedule is a bit mad. I haven't forgotten Marigold, either. But everything in its time. Juushirou seems more deserving right now.

If you've read my previous work, you'll also know that death happens. I won't promise that won't happen here, and I won't apologise if it does. ;)

Without further ado, onto the story!

Prologue

Seireitei, Three Milennia Earlier

瀞霊廷・三千年前

The Tokitori Manor, Unohana Province

時鳥邸・卯之花国

"And that is definitely the last of them?"

Tokitori Tsuneyoshi set down his writing brush with a sigh, rubbing his temples as he felt the deep throbbing ache of a migraine beginning deep beneath his skull. It had been a long morning, following on from an equally long night that had given little time for respite. Although the sun was high in the sky, there was a cold chill in the air; a constant reminder of the wave of death that had surged over the valleys and hills of the Seirei domain over the last three violent weeks.

The killing had stopped - for now - but for Tsuneyoshi, the clash of swords and sweeping hum of arrows had been replaced by the soft wailing of dead souls in the ether, coupled with the pain vibrations of the wounded being treated in the great hall below. The war had ended, but the damage was considerable and, as he gazed down once more at his list, his heart thudded heavily into his stomach.

It was a Lord's duty, but it was not a duty he relished.

"It's the last, my lord," the young warrior who stood at his side bowed his head respectfully. He was prompt and bright eyed, apparently unconcerned by the trail of headless corpses that had been laid out on the grasses of the Unohana estate the previous morning, or the thick clots of blood that now stained the petals of the flowers that normally bloomed there. For Tsuneyoshi, it was distasteful, but he had long since learned that to voice such an opinion in a clan of war like this was anathema. In this time of unrest, he would do best to keep his thoughts to himself, he reasoned darkly. The Unohana were devastated enough already.

"The corpses have been burned, as you instructed," the young warrior was speaking again now, his words deferential and respectful, but his eyes still glittering with the fervour and excitement of the battle's aftermath.

"And the search for my niece?" Tsuneyoshi asked softly. "Has there been any news?"

"Not yet, my lord," The warrior's eyes clouded for the briefest moments at the mention of the missing princess. "We have sent out searches from last night and again at dawn. My father asked me to tell you that there would be not be a single moment of rest among our Endou clan until some trace of the hime is found, so please, try to rest your heart. We will find her, my Lord. We will find her, and alive, too."

"That is reassuring to hear," Tsuneyoshi managed a feeble smile. "It is definitely true that without the involvement of a strong warrior house like the Endou, putting down the internal rebellion would have been very hard. The Unohana have always been a fierce warrior Clan, but that also means that it breeds ambition and hate between individuals who want particular rank and influence. My brother was a victim of that anarchy, and my niece...I pray she remains alive."

"With respect, my Lord, I cannot imagine there are many blades capable of slaying one like the Unohana hime," the young Endou soldier offered a smile. "In any case, we won't rest. The Endou are loyal to the Unohana and it is a bond of warrior blood we won't forsake easily."

"You took losses too, I think?" Tsuneyoshi asked, and the young man shrugged.

"Traitors. Rebels. Corpses that don't matter," he said dismissively. "Some of them we burned alive for their betrayal. The Endou are unforgiving about such things - you shouldn't concern yourself with such minor trivialities, sir. My father, Lord Hiromu, gave the order and it has already been carried out. Our code of conduct is simple. Those who died for the right cause will be honoured. Those who didn't will be destroyed. Such a minor thing as disciplining our own rebels is hardly likely to impact on our ability to carry out an effective search."

Tsuneyoshi swallowed hard at the graphic description, made worse by the casual and dismissive nature of the youth's speech.

"I see," he managed eventually, and the young soldier eyed him in surprise.

"Tokitori-dono, is something wrong?"

"No. No, I'm fine. Just tired from the long night," Tsuneyoshi shook his head hurriedly. "There is so much to do, and with my niece still missing..."

"Tsunenao-dono has been summoned to the main house," the young retainer said helpfully. "He rode there this morning, with my father as escort."

"Tsunenao?" Tsuneyoshi looked startled. "My son? But why would that happen? Nobody notified me. My niece is still the heir to the Clan, and..."

"My father said that the main house want to take precautions," the young soldier replied. "They want to protect the future of the Unohana, with the hime still missing."

He eyed his companion curiously.

"My lord, it may be an impertinence," he said softly, "but I was surprised that it was Tsunenao-dono that was summoned. I mean, my Lord, you are...well...if the hime is not...then surely...you..."

"I am not wanted by this Clan," Tsuneyoshi said flatly. "I am too much trouble for them. Useful at times like this, perhaps, but definitely not someone they trust to take the reins. As the younger son, they have been able to ignore me most effectively until now, and that has been my preference, too. My brother was a much more suitable leader, and therefore I have been able to live at my own devices for a long time, but this war has changed a lot of things. With my brother dead and his daughter missing, you are correct - I should be next in line. I am not the leader they want, though. I trained with my father and learned to use a sword just as my brother did, but I am not like him and never was. I am not the image of a fierce Unohana warrior...and I never will be, I suppose. Maybe that is why they sent for Tsunenao without asking me. I am not a good influence. I suppose that, if my niece is still missing, they are prepared to name him Head of the Clan and bestow upon him the duties of the Unohana Warlord. It matters not that he takes after me, rather than after them. They probably still want to take my son and heir and baptise him in Unohana warrior blood while he is still barely more than a child."

He got to his feet, moving to the window to survey the blood splattered surrounds of his estate.

"You seem sad about that, sir?" the young warrior followed him, keeping a respectful distance. "Surely for Tsunenao-dono to be head of the Clan would be a great honour?"

Tsuneyoshi shrugged.

"I am not a soldier in the sense they want me to be," he said softly. "I can fight, but I dislike doing it. I am still alive only because I am too much trouble to kill. It gives me no joy to think of my son becoming a butcher on the battlefield, as his uncle and grandfather were before him. But my niece is the heir to the Clan, not my son. Precautions are just that, though it is a low blow, even from the Clan elders, to take a boy not yet in his teens as a political hostage when my guard is down. Tsunenao is young and naive, and his coming of age ceremony was only a matter of weeks ago. He has also always been taught to trust in the loyalty of the Endou Clan. He would not have questioned the instruction if it came with your father as surety - which is doubtless why they sent him directly, and bypassed my authority. They would know I wouldn't have allowed it, and they've taken advantage of this momentary chaos to seize him behind my back."

He fixed his gaze once more on the field of blood and flowers just beyond the rise, and sighed.

"At least I can trust Hiromu-dono not to let Tsunenao come to harm on the journey, if assassins still lurk in the woods and valleys," he reflected softly. "And it is a temporary precaution, that is all. When my niece is installed as Clan Leader, I will have someone at the main house who will listen, and I will demand my son's return. The Clan can follow its own path - but my son will follow the one I set out for him, not the one the family has stained in blood."

The young warrior did not respond to this, but, although he was not looking directly at him, Tsuneyoshi had the direct sense that the youth was mulling over these words with great care and detail. He rested his hands on the sill of the window, trying to filter out the waves of spiritual pain he could feel emanating from the floors below. Some of the injured men were going to die, he knew, and yet, while hearing their internal moans of pain was bad enough, the cold emptiness that followed their descent into the world of dead reishi was infinitely worse.

Those who heal hear the pain of the living, but I hear the drifting cries of the dead just as strongly. I'm glad that nobody questioned my decision to burn the corpses. It probably helps that the Endou use cremation on a regular basis. I suppose they thought it a just punishment for treason and an effective way of disposing with unwanted felons, but the truth is that fire quickly shreds apart the remains of lost lives. It silences the god-awful wailing and moaning of those spirits fragmenting beyond the grave, and I have enough to deal with without hearing the broken regrets of defeated warriors as they gradually scatter into the ether over time.

He let out a heavy sigh.

This is the wrong place for all this to be conducted. I knew it was a mistake, letting myself become so embroiled in this, but there is nowhere else, and nobody else who could be trusted to carry it out. Not since my brother was carved up by those under his command under the pretence of fighting Heaven's cause. My brother and I may not have been close friends, but he trusted my loyalty, and that means so do his men.

He cast the young Endou a sidelong glance.

Fortunately, the core branch of the Endou would rather dye themselves in blood than betray their ancient oaths of loyalty to the Unohana, and Hiromu-dono's forces put paid to most of the assassins, but with so many innocent men injured among his retinue and the loyal Unohana who tried to protect my brother, what else could I do but have matters brought here? This was the closest safe place, and some of the wounded would not have lasted a night out in the fields without proper care and attention.

This had always been his safe haven, but at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to leave it far behind him. In fact, had his brother's assassination not taken place so close to the border with his own land, he would likely have avoided the mess and drama of the Clan's upheaval entirely.

But the death of the Clan Leader and the missing state of the designated heiress to the family had thrown everything into unusual uproar.

Tsunenao is only twelve years old, and yet they want to impose this bloody clan of murder on his shoulders.

He let out a heavy sigh.

What kind of a father am I, that I didn't see this possibility? I have clearly been naive to think that, because the Elders disdain me, they also disdain my son. I need the Endou to find my niece quickly, if I am to protect Tsunenao. They will listen to her, even if I have to beg to bring it about. Tsunenao is a kind child, empathic and sensitive, and I wanted to protect him from this war and its bloody fallout. For that reason, I sent him to my sister's manor, away from all the bloodshed. How could I be so naive as to let him out of my sight? Because I am unfit, the Clan Elders will seek to break and destroy my son until he adheres to their goals, or is driven mad in the process. Those sympathetic to the rebels will see an opportunity to control a puppet lord, imposing their ideas on a vulnerable youth. All of this happened because of a senseless, needless war, fought for no reason than other people's honour and individual ambition. How I hate this Clan. I must protect my son from its poison somehow, even if I am forever trapped in its chains like this. Even if I must grovel before my niece to achieve it, I must make sure my son is safely returned to me unscarred.

"Tokitori-dono?" The young retainer was speaking to him again, and he turned his head, realising that he had lost himself in his own reverie and had not heard the question.

"What is it?"

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I was curious to know something," the young man asked the question earnestly, and Tsuneyoshi saw the bright, pale eyes dart towards the sheathed sword that hung over the mantle of the window. "About...about that, sir. I mean, I know about it, sir. It's one of those swords, isn't it? So I wondered...why it is that you say you're not a soldier. If you hold that sword, I wonder why..."

"Because I hold that sword, I'm not a soldier," Tsuneyoshi said simply. "That's all."

"I don't understand," the youth looked bemused. "It's the Soldier's sword, isn't it? How can you hold it and yet not be a soldier?"

"It's complicated indeed,"Tsuneyoshi offered him a faint smile, "but that is the lesson I have learned from holding it. Because I hold it, the Clan hide me away here and choose to impose on my son instead of me. Because I hold it, I don't choose to fight. Because I hold it, even my brother would not challenge me, and preferred to leave me well alone. Only my niece is never frightened to come talk to me face to face, knowing that sword hangs here as it does. I am a nuisance to the Unohana, but because I hold that sword, they cannot easily kill me. Thus I am a problem for them in all regards - that sword brings nothing but ill fortune and distress, and is better sheathed. Just like me."

"Tokitori-dono! Tokitori-dono!" At that moment, the door of the chamber slid back, and a breathless retainer hurried in, stopping only to pay the briefest of respectful bows to his superior. "I'm sorry to interrupt so rudely, sir, but there is news. News of the hime, sir! She's been found!"

"Found?" Tsuneyoshi was alert in a moment. "Where? When? What news of her? Is she injured? Can she be brought here? Says she anything about what happened? The main house must be notified at once. Have you sent a messenger? If not, then someone must go at once! The heir to the Clan is found, and so..."

"My lord..." the warrior stepped forward, bowing again and then raising troubled eyes to his companion.

"My lord, the hime is dead," he said softly, and Tsuneyoshi froze, staring at the other man in disbelief. Cold dread seeped through the core of his heart, even as he heard his young companion from the Endou exclaiming in dismay at the news.

"Dead?" he whispered, and the older retainer nodded.

"Yes, sir," he agreed sadly. "We found her body, bound and mutilated, by the river. My men have brought it here, and she lies downstairs, awaiting the memorial rites for the next world. She had been discarded there. I think they meant to throw her in, sir. But...with the coming of the Yamamoto and the brave work of Harumizu-dono and the Yamamoto heir's flame, it never..."

He faltered, swallowing hard, and Tsuneyoshi could see the glitter of tears in the older man's eyes. He battled hard against his own emotions, his mind again flitting to his vulnerable young son. In that moment, he knew that the one person who might have saved the young boy from the Unohana's brutal darkness had been ripped away from him, sending a black curtain of despair down over all his hopes and thoughts. Tsunenao was an empath, a peaceful boy, a kind child...and yet they would turn his mind and make him a killer, until the son he loved with all his heart would stand before him, a stranger with madness in his eyes. It had happened before, to men of the Unohana, and it would happen again, unless he did something about it.

I must protect my son.

Time seemed to stand still, but then as his panic began to morph into a desperate impulse, he hurried across the chamber, pulling his sword from its resting place. He gazed at it for a moment, brushing the dust from the sheath and turning it over in his hands. It hummed faintly beneath his touch, and at its reaction, he felt his fear harden into a dark sense of resolve.

I am the Soldier, and even this soldier, sometimes, has a reason to fight. Whatever else happens, I must protect my son. There is only one way to do that, and only I can do it. Whatever the consequences might be, I must save my son. If not, how can I call myself a father?

He twisted the weapon around so that the sheathed tip was facing his body, then slid it roughly through the obi of his court clothing.

"Tokitori-dono?" Fear flooded the eyes of the older retainer, causing the Endou youth to stare at him in surprise. "Tokitori-dono, what are you doing? That sword...you know that...it's not permitted. You can't..."

"My name is Unohana Tokitori no Jirou Tsuneyoshi, younger brother of the previous Clan Lord, Yoshinao, and second son of the great Warrior Lord, Tsurugi no Shichitou Yoshikata. If my niece is dead, I am the heir to the Clan, not my son." Tsuneyoshi suddenly swung around on his companion, anger and resolve glittering in his dark eyes. "I won't see Tsunenao manipulated and soaked in blood for the honour of this family, not when I still have life in my body. My brother was no great warrior, but he was a killer till his last breath, and yet that killer was sliced apart by men he trusted. His daughter was a warrior worthy of my father's notice and favour even when she was a young child, but rebels managed to kill her all the same. They were fighters, but my son is not. What chance has he, in an environment such as this? Either my niece inherits this Clan, or I do. The choice is yours, but Tsunenao will not be turned into a killer while I stand back and watch."

"Tokitori-dono, if the hime is dead, how can she..." the young Endou began, but his more senior colleague cut across him, fear glittering deep in his greyish eyes.

"That question must not be asked. That thought must not be voiced," he said in low tones, and the young Endou shot him a confused look.

"I don't..."

"It must not be asked," the retainer insisted. "Tokitori-dono, I beg of you, sir, please reconsider. I understand your grief and your concern, but this is not rational! Come pay your respects to the Lady Hime, but please, re-hang your sword and come as her uncle, not..."

"I am coming as her uncle," Tsuneyoshi said softly, patting the hilt of his sword but making no attempt to obey the request.

"My Lord, you mustn't!" the retainer hurried forward to try and take the sword from the man's belt, but Tsuneyoshi pushed the man away with a swing of his left arm, glaring at him.

"I may not wear armour, but I am still an Unohana. I am good with this blade and I can fight to immobilise, even if I don't want to kill," he said darkly. "Some blades are better sheathed, but as I just told you, if my niece is dead, I am head of this Clan now. You can choose to come with me, or you can sit in my cells. It's up to you. I am going to my niece - and I'm taking my sword with me. We both know that I'm the only one who can, and that getting in my way would be a very bad idea."

Despite himself, the older warrior quailed back at the uncharacteristic threat in the lord's voice, and, at his withdrawal, Tsuneyoshi nodded his head curtly at the young Endou retainer.

"You, come with me," he said briskly. "We'll go pay our respects to my niece."

"My lord?" The young Endou was hesitant, and Tsuneyoshi's lips twisted into a cold, hollow smile. He closed his hand around the hilt of his sword.

"We'll pay our respects and we'll fix the future of this Clan, too," he added frankly. "Once and for all, in a way only the Soldier can."

Kurokawa Valley, Yamamoto Province
黒川谷・山本国

The silence that pervaded the valley that morning was deafening.

Halting his horse, the youth sat back in the saddle, gazing over the scorched earth and the remains of the skeletons that lay scattered about, no longer recognisable as anything but bits of bone and ash. They had been proud warriors, he remembered with a moment of regret. They had charged forth, crying their battle cries and raising their bows and swords to meet him. Across the feet of one corpse, a ragged, bloody standard fluttered forlornly in the breeze, the Clan monshou that had adorned it smeared with dirt and detritus from the battle. It had wrapped itself lovingly around the legs of its bearer, acting as a shroud now that the battle was over, but, as the young man dismounted his horse, he could see that the charcoal fingers were still clutched determinedly around the remains of the flagpole - protecting the colours of the Clan until the last.

He moved towards it, bending to brush the edges of the flag with the tips of his fingers. It came apart beneath his touch, and he drew back, chewing on his lip as, once again, he registered the devastation all around him. It had been his first foray into battle, but already he knew that he wanted it to be his last.

"The work of a demon, or a monster," he murmured, more to himself than to the corpse that lay before him, but, although there was no answer, suddenly he felt as though he could not meet this dead man's hollowed eyes.

The colours of the banner seemed stark and painful, the white and silver of his own family lying smeared in the blood and dust. It was proof of how painful this rebellion had been. No, he corrected himself bitterly. It had not been a rebellion, so much as a war that had poisoned Seireitei to its core. Not one of the four Great Clans had been spared from its wrath. It was not just the Yamamoto, he mused with deep regret. The skilled and lauded Kuchiki heir had been killed with his entire force, fighting against the rebel army, while the Shihouin had fled underground after their leader had defected to follow his own ambitions. Even the warrior Unohana, famed for their military might, had been rent apart, their lord's throat slit and their warrior princess stolen in the night by her own people. Her retainers had scattered, routed by the ensuing drama. Brothers had been slain by brothers, and sons by fathers alike.

Unohana rebels too lay dead among the charcoal, the youth reflected grimly. The black damage spread for several ri, crossing the border between Yamamoto and Unohana land and searing through the valley towards the banks of the winding river. A steady stream of bodies lay in the wake of its destruction, mingled with fallen trees and the remains of animals and birds that had been caught up in the inferno. It had been a single rush of adrenaline, he remembered bleakly. Some soldiers had raised their blades to meet him, but they had been charred to ash in one great flame of retribution. His rage had seared through acquaintance and stranger alike, turning them all into identical, unrecognisable cadavers. Now, four days later, some areas of ground still smouldered, and many corpses still lay unclaimed and unidentified - the undeniable proof of the Phoenix blade at work. The rebels who had escaped the fire purge had been rounded up by Harumizu, his late father's most trusted warrior, and at the sight of the flames several had fallen on their own swords, others dropping their weapons and begging in vain to be treated with mercy. Some had been beheaded, their heads adorning the pine trees that stood at the edge of the Yamamoto land, while the others - the truly dangerous ones - had been thrown into the abyss. The young man had seen them, swallowed by the dark Dangai into which few people ever ventured and from which many never returned. Dangai exile was a punishment designed to prevent a sinner's soul from rebirth in Seireitei - a fate worse than death, for it meant utter oblivion. It was a punishment only used in the most extreme circumstances - an order given by the Heaven Realm and its representative in Seireitei, the Regent. There was no court of appeal, not even for blood kin forced to fight, and, as he considered this, the young man resented the fact that, although this war had begun in Heaven, it had been the Clans of the Seirei on whom had fallen the greatest burden and loss.

We are all just puppets of the Heaven Realm, used to fight their wars, without a thought to our lives. Even now, when all is calm, they leave us to clean up the mess they caused. It's as though we're not here. As though we have no purpose. Father had no purpose except to die because of them, and I had no purpose but to kill on their behalf. Our families are rent to pieces for a war that wasn't ours, and the only consolation is that some of us remain alive to regret it happened at all. Grandfather may consider it an honour to go there, or to serve the Soul King, but I don't. I consider it an insult, and I always will, making enemies of people who had no axe to grind before the Heaven Realm started playing games.

He gazed up at the sky, remembering again the struggles of his uncle, Kunimori, as he had been tossed into the black. Then, he had felt nothing, the adrenaline of battle still pumping through his system but now, in the cold, stark light of the aftermath, doubts nagged away at him. The Dangai punishment was a fate for monsters and those too dangerous to be allowed to remain. Kunimori had been the only one who had not been fearful, but angry, shouting threats until he had disappeared for good into the shadows. Had the man really been so dangerous that letting him be condemned in Seireitei was too much of a risk? Was he? It was hard to tell, but the thought of that yawning darkness gave the youth fresh chills. He glanced down at the sword sheathed at his side. Maybe he was. Maybe, one day, the Dangai would be his fate, too. Maybe it would be the next time his flames seared the whole world to ash. He had seen his own kin tossed into the darkness, chained and bound. It was in his blood, to be a demon and a killer, and there was no keeping the secret, now, that his sword was one of those swords. It was surely only a matter of time before he, too, became a creature beyond redemption. Surely that was why his father had tried to keep him from battle, despite his having already entered his fifteenth year?

"Santarou-dono?"

The voice startled him, and he swung around guiltily, meeting the concerned gaze of one of the manor retainers, and his menoto, Sasakibe Tadashige. He had not even realised Tadashige had followed him, but, although the man's dark hair was peppered with the white of approaching age, he was still as stealthy and skilful a rider as he had ever been, and he had crept up on his preoccupied charge, watching over him from a distance as the youngster had surveyed the fruits of his own dark labour.

"Tadashige," eventually Santarou found his voice, his emotions suddenly threatening to get the better of him, and Tadashige sighed, dismounting his own steed and leading it forwards until he stood a mere metre from his companion.

"You should return to the manor," he said softly. "Everything there is in disarray. Our battle was a victory, but without you..."

"Without me, this level of slaughter could not have happened," Santarou's words broke slightly as he remembered again the fierce blaze of flame searing deep into each person, burning out their heart and their life with terrifying ease. The screams of the dying were sounds he could not forget, but although he did not know how to explain it, Tadashige's expression softened as though he understood. Gently he rested a hand on the young man's shoulders.

"It was necessary," he murmured. "I am not happy, either, that you had to face this at such a young age. But, Santarou-dono, only you could've done this. Only you could've settled this fight and brought the world back to peace here. The Yamamoto Clan have suffered grievous wounds, and you have suffered them too. This is the first step towards becoming an adult. Your father delayed your coming of age because he wanted to protect you, but there's no protection from the reality of war. So long as you are here, the Clan has nothing to fear."

"Or everything," Santarou dusted the ash from his fingers. "Father delayed my coming of age because he feared my blade, not for any other reason. He feared the monster that can bring everything to ash. A child who can burn their way through the family's rebels with just a single sweep of a blade...who wouldn't be afraid of that?"

"Your father was not afraid of you, and nor am I," Tadashige assured him. "He made the decisions he did for his own reasons, and he is no longer here to explain them to you. I am not even half his equal, Santarou-dono, but I am here and I am always on your side. Your father entrusted that guidance to me and I take it seriously. I am growing older, and I do not have the great power that you do, but I am loyal and so are my kin. Now all that is left for you is to take your adult name and rise to lead the Clan. Your Grandfather abdicated to serve the Soul King, and your father is dead. Your uncle is exiled, the rebels destroyed. The Clan looks to you now, and so it should."

"Father..." The young man faltered for a moment, then shook his head.

"There is much dust to settle," he murmured. "The scars aren't just in this Clan. I will come of age, Tadashige, but I will not lead this Clan. A sword like mine should not ever lead this Clan. A sword which can destroy it in one breath can never bring it to prosper. A sword that should never be used cannot be raised in the defence of its people."

"But Santarou-dono!" Tadashige's eyes opened wide with dismay, and Santarou offered him an empty smile, patting the hilt of the sheathed sword lightly.

"I have a brother," he said simply. "Sanjirou is only two years younger than I am, and he is intelligent and brave. He is not a monster, and he has not shed the blood of his cousins in the way I have. I will become an adult, Tadashige, but I will not lead. I will swear allegiance to my brother, and I will follow his lead. That is my decision - for the future of this Clan, I will no longer use this sword. And a leader who does not use his weapon cannot be seen as a leader."

He took up the reins of his horse, launching himself deftly into the saddle and turning the beast around, gesturing for his companion to follow suit. Tadashige hesitated, then did as he was bidden, a look of consternation on his lined features.

"The Clan won't like it," he warned. "You know that your bloodline..."

"They will accept it," Santarou said frankly. "I will make them accept it. They are afraid of me, Tadashige. They will do whatever I say."

He offered another flinty smile, lifting the reins more firmly in his hands as he prepared to ride back towards the manor.

"You will conduct my coming of age," he added. "I will take your name kanji, along with my father's 'Kuni'. I will become Shigekuni, and from this day on, I will be the Yamamoto demon in the shadows."

Author's Note

Glossary of terms:
Tokitori 時鳥 - think of this like the Genryuusai in Yama's later name. It's something of a nickname or a title given to him for a specific reason which I will probably explain later. For a hint...Tokitori isn't the only way those kanji can be read when put together.

Menoto 乳父、also 傅- this is a funny word to translate. It actually means something like 'wet-nurse', but obviously, Tadashige is a guy! Basically, in old Japan, a family of lower rank would be appointed as 'menoto', or a pseudo guardian role to a child, and they would be closely involved in their upbringing. In very few cases did this actually involve wet-nursing by the women, and in terms of the men, it meant mostly the forging of a close bond which, at times, became like blood family. Sasakibe is obviously a familiar name, and Tadashige is a predecessor of Tadaoki, the man who will, ultimately, be the Choujirou we know from canon. I suspect Tadashige may be his grandfather, but it is uncertain yet.

Santarou 山太郎- well, obviously by the end of the prologue it's clear who this is, though I think it is throughout. While I have ignored this fact for most of my stories, because this is going way back into past, I have decided to stick to tradition whereby a warrior only attained his adult name with his coming of age, or genpuku rite. If canon Bleach world is Edo influenced, then going back even further into the past must pick up some of the features of old warrior Japan. Well, I think so xD. I thus gave Yama the childhood name Santarou, or first child of the Yamamoto. After his coming of age ceremony he receives his official adult name, which as canon tells us, is Shigekuni 重国 - a very old school warrior name!