Bleach:Zangetsu

It never ceased to amaze Zangetsu how often the king failed to understand the severity of his situation. He jumped effortlessly between floating pieces of debris created by the raw spiritual pressure, each jump landing with precision. His black blade, sharp as ever, sliced through the obstacles like butter. His target was clear—the hollow's neck. It was a race against time. If that Grand Ray Cero fired, the destruction it would cause could obliterate everyone the king swore to protect.

The king… pathetic, Zangetsu thought bitterly. Refusing to unleash his full power against his opponents, holding back out of some misguided sense of morality. Zangetsu had tried so hard to help him see the truth, tried so many times to make him understand that fighting to protect meant embracing his full strength. Yet the king—Ichigo—continued to cling to the notion that mercy and restraint were virtues in every battle.

Zangetsu's grip tightened on his sword, frustration burning in his chest. He had done everything in his power to protect him. He had warned him over and over again. And still… Ichigo had died.

Zangetsu clenched his teeth, a bitter taste filling his mouth. He wasn't a warrior by nature. Both he and the original Zangetsu had only ever wanted one thing for Ichigo: a life where he could stand tall, strong enough to protect himself, free from constant war and strife. But no, the boy was too stubborn, always throwing himself into battle without hesitation.

If only you accepted yourself, Zangetsu thought, rage and sorrow mixing into a potent, unrelenting ache in his chest.

The world around him seemed to pause for a second. Zangetsu had tried so hard to beat the hero complex out of Ichigo, to show him that true strength came not from avoiding the battle but from facing it head-on. And yet, Ichigo had always been too noble for his own good. He couldn't change his way of thinking, and now… Now Zangetsu feared it was too late.

"I'll make them all pay," Zangetsu muttered under his breath. "Every last one of them."

Yami's growl shattered the silence, his voice thick with frustration. "DAMN BUG!!!" He fired a barrage of Ceros, each one erupting with a deafening boom. "STAY STILL!!!"

But Zangetsu was anything but still. His sword cut through the air, each swing slicing through the incoming blasts, his focus razor-sharp. His eyes locked onto Yami, ignoring the storm of power around him. The giant hollow was solely focused on him now—Zangetsu's target.

A memory of Ichigo's past failures flashed in his mind. Why did you always freeze in fear when you lost your blade? Zangetsu thought, his bitterness resurfacing as he recalled their past battles.

In every single one, the king had never truly fought to kill. He fought to protect, to save, but never to end.

Ichigo... Zangetsu's heart sank as he thought back on all the lessons he had tried to teach him. He had explained the difference between a king and his horse. A king needed strength, control, and ruthless focus. Without that, his kingdom would crumble.

Zangetsu's grip tightened, his spiritual pressure rising to an impossible level. He fired off a barrage of Getsuga Tenshous, his energy exploding in the air, pushing back the incoming Ceros. The battlefield became a chaotic light show of destruction, each explosion was a clash of their wills.

Yami's roar echoed in frustration. "WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO!!!" He searched frantically, The Hollow had used the smokescreen as a cover, his instincts flaring as he looked up toward the moon. There, in the night sky, Zangetsu was rushing toward him like a bullet. His movements were faster than the eye could follow, each leap and bound drawing him closer to his target.

Instinct, Zangetsu thought coldly, his gaze narrowing. The instinct he had tried to teach Ichigo… It's the one thing he never understood.

Zangetsu's blade, Tensa Zangetsu, burned with crimson light as he gathered all of his energy into his final attack. He felt the power course through him, the weight of every lesson he had tried to impart upon Ichigo now concentrated into this single moment.

In order for beings to grow stronger, they needed a killer instinct—a drive to survive, to end their enemies before they could strike. Ichigo had never understood that. He had always resisted it, and now Zangetsu dwelt with the pain of that refusal.

Tensa Zangetsu's form was a streak of black and red in the air, the energy crackling with a devastating intensity. The sword came down in a clean arc, straight toward Yami's neck.

There's only one reason why I fight, Zangetsu thought, his voice like steel in his mind. And there's no reason for me to lose.

With a final, decisive strike, Zangetsu's attack tore through the giant hollow's neck. The explosion of energy was deafening, the force so intense that it consumed everything in its path. Yami's body crumpled inward, his form dissolving into black particles, the explosion swallowing him whole.

Zangetsu stood in the aftermath, his sword lowered, his breath steady as the dust settled. Another battle won, but it was meaningless to the hollow.

Ichigo... The name echoed in his mind, but there was no answer. There never had been.

This is what I tried to teach you all along.

The Hollow's Dull eyes onward looking toward the moon.

The moon. Zangetsu raised his hand to try and reach it but it was and will allways be out of his grasp much like the voice of his king.

The horse had become the knight now... and the knight would fulfill its duty..

"Let's get the others"

With one final glance at the shattered battlefield, Zangetsu turned, his blade heavy in his hand, and began to walk, a silent promise to those he would protect lingering in the air. The knight's journey was far from over.

"Well, well, looks like I'm late to the party," Kenpachi boomed, his voice a rumbling echo that seemed to shake the very air. He waved his jaded long sword in the air with a carefree laugh, the tension in his shoulders palpable, itching for a fight. "Did I miss something fun? This place looks like it could use a little more chaos."

Zangetsu's gaze shifted briefly to the berserker. Zangetsu didn't respond, his focus shifting as another, more controlled, spiritual pressure approached. Byakuya Kuchiki, ever the calm and composed figure, stepped through the smoke, his deep white haori billowing in the wind like a reminder of his noble grace. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was a sharpness to his gaze as he surveyed the situation.

"Kurosaki"... 

(Author note tell me what you think:)