Hyourinmaru sat back on snowy haunches, considering that smile. “Rukia Kuchiki is sentenced to execution. If any were to try to interfere, the Gotei Thirteen would be bound to stop them.”
“Then it is well we have no such plans,” Zangetsu said simply.
“Truth, winter dragon.” A grim, daring light in dark eyes. “We will not try to save her.”
We will save her.
Unsaid; Hyourinmaru could deny even to Ryuujin Jakka’s face that he had ever heard such words. But he knew.
Brave. So brave. And so likely to die.
“I am Hyourinmaru.” He had not decided. He would not decide; Toushirou was his master, he would not draw the young captain into treacherous waters against his will. “You had best not remain where you are long.”
“Kind of you,” Zangetsu murmured.
Hmph. Kind? He was a dragon; what did he know of kindness?
I have to know.
Saijin Komamura might have been born youkai, but he was shinigami now; the captain and Tenken had only flickers of youki about them. Yet this young spirit had a wolf’s strength? “How is it that a shinigami can carry a youkai’s power?”
“Very carefully,” Zangetsu said dryly. “It has nearly been our destruction, more than once. But there are those we must protect.” He bowed, turning to go-
Stopped, just for a moment. “It becomes easier,” Zangetsu said carefully, “if the power has its own name.” A shift of black-clad shoulders. “My shinigami is also called Fenris.”
A gust of storm wind, and he was gone.