Victim's of Fate - Making a Zanpakuto

Quick Author's Note: This is a future section for Victim's of Fate. People have commented to me that Shirou can't make Zanpakuto for Rukia and the others, since Zanpakuto are created from asauchi which were made by Nimaiya. And... Technically they are correct (Also, it took me a bit to find this, but apparently asauchi are forged by melding multiple shinigami souls? How exactly did he figure this out?!?) 

Anyway, this is describing the process by which the spirits in Shirou's inner world have instructed to create something like a Zanpakuto. Since Shirou isn't going to kill and meld shinigami together to create swords. 

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“I may be the father of Zanpakuto, but didja ever wonder who the grandpa was? The great grandma?

Bet ya didn’t, yeah?

Ju, Kyu, Hachi, Nana, Roku, Go-Mai, Shi, San-mai…

The idea for Zanpakuto didn’t come from nowhere, ya hear? I mighta perfected it, but I learned from others!

They might not have made Zanpakuto, but I can’t deny that while my forebear’s creations had their own set of issues and quirks, they could be… Comparable.”

-Oetsu Nimaiya

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Rukia’s PoV

Rukia shivered as the breeze picked up, a flurry of snow trailing in its wake, covering the tracks she left behind.

She was climbing a mountain, wrapped up in a thick robe to keep herself warm, and a few tools that she herself had made. The cloak helped, but it could only do so much against the chill.

And for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t with anybody else. Not Shirou, nor Homura, nor Shizuku.

… Man, it had been a long time since she’d been all by herself for an extended amount of time, hadn’t it? Maybe she should try making more time for herself?

Unfortunately, the solitude was required in this particular case.

Shirou had clearly been worried as he relayed what they’d need to do to create weapons like his. He’d asked multiple times if they were sure they wanted to go through with this.

They weren’t just trying to make any magic item after all. This was to be something that reflected and channeled their very soul.

But could she do anything else?

Traveling with Shirou only helped show how weak she, Homura, and Shizuku were. Especially when Shirou insisted he wasn’t that strong.

Rukia was the older sibling. It was her responsibility to protect Homura and Shizuku.

If the only way to get stronger meant making a magic weapon like what Shirou used, then that’s what she’d do.

In response to their determination, Shirou brought out dozens of pieces of ore. He lay them out and instructed them to cycle their spiritual power and choose one that ‘felt appropriate’.

The ore she felt best about came from a mountain in District 78.

Thus, here she was.

By herself.

Rukia huffed.

Apparently a bond was needed between them and the weapon. Something to tie the two, to make it truly theirs.

For example - say you bought a necklace that was made by a famous jeweler and then worn by a queen. Even though you now owned the necklace, your identity was hardly an important aspect of that necklace.

If Shirou made it, it would be ‘a weapon Rukia uses that was made by Shirou’, which wasn’t good enough.

While there were numerous ways to do it, this was, supposedly, the easiest. So from start to finish, Rukia needed to be part of the creation process of her weapon. Just as Homura and Shizuku would be a part of theirs.

Shirou would assist when needed of course, especially with the forging. But from the origin of the materials to the actual crafting, it was vital that the weapon have the concept ‘Rukia’ grafted in it.

Rukia had separated from the others at the base of the mountain, continuing on her own. That had been several hours ago.

She had no idea how long she hiked for (a long time), but the sun was high in the sky by the time she found the various abandoned mining equipment.

Rukia quickly got to work, taking several tools from her bag. Finding the vein of ore wasn’t a hard task - the remains of the previous attempts were still around after all. She then cleared the surrounding area of snow and debris, carefully carving a circle in the mountain, followed by the symbols Shirou had her memorize.

She carefully arranged all of her tools, double checking all of her work before deciding it was as good as it was going to get.

Rukia then shook off her cloak. Her arms and legs were bare, revealing dark red symbols that had been painted on her skin, and began meditating.

Rukia wasn’t quite sure about this part, but Shirou insisted it was important, and she trusted him.

Seconds passed, and then minutes. Rukia focused on the flow of her spiritual power, letting it flow out of her gently and into the surrounding area.

Hours passed.

It wasn’t until the sun fell and the moon rose across the horizon that Rukia finally stood up.

The setup was complete. Time to begin.

In moments the sound of ringing was heard across the mountain, Rukia’s small form hacking away at the vein of ore.

She wasn’t used to this, but thankfully not a lot of ore was required. Not for a single weapon.

With each piece, as soon as it detached, Rukia focused her reitsu on it for several seconds. It was then placed just outside the circle.

Then she was hacking away again.

As soon as Rukia deemed it enough, she put the pickaxe aside and picked up a bow.

Phase two.

… And, well, the part that she was a bit squeamish about. But then, Rukia had known this was coming and had steeled herself.

The ore was gathered and prepared, mined by her own hand and doused with her spiritual power. But it needed something to fill it.

It needed a soul.

Technically, the ‘best’ thing to use would be a human soul. Shirou said that that was what was used for Bakuya and Kanshou, but it wasn’t something that he wanted for them.

Rukia had been so relieved to hear that an animal’s soul would work. Especially since Homura looked like she was contemplating hit lists.

Rukia and Shizuku hadn’t hunted with Shirou as much as Homura, but all three had taken turns at some point or other.

Hunting in the snow was new, especially at night, but the moon was shining bright, and thankfully it only took an hour for her to detect another presence. Soon after, she was able to find her prey. A silver fox.

It was easy for Rukia to then take the carcass and a handful of dirt from its dying place back to the circle and ore. Once there, she placed the fox on top of the ore she had mined and began to dismantle it.

The mountain seemed unnaturally silent as she worked, and by the light of the moon Rukia cut away a piece of every part of the fox and added it to the mix of the bowl.

A crushed piece of bone, a piece of its liver, brain, intestines, a crushed piece of its claws, and so forth. Then the dirt. Finally, she placed the entirety of the heart.

Taking the wood she brought with her, it took only a moment to get a fire started within the circle, and in the center she placed the bowl with its contents.

Rukia had to resist gagging at the stench of charred flesh and tangy blood.  Taking shallow breaths, she knelt in front of the circle and the ore.

“In accordance with the Old Ways, I invite you, spirit of the Mountain, to bear witness to this deed.”

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The primal spirits that inhabited the mountain were more of a manifestation of the inhabitants life source than a true self-aware entity.

It had no purpose but to simply exist. And thus had done so the moment the mountain formed. That was all there was to it.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Yet this was a ritual designed to gain the attention of such an entity, enhanced by runes written with her own blood.

For the first time in its existence, it was being called.

And it would answer.

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“In accordance with the Old Ways, I invite you, spirit of the Hunt, to bear witness to this death.”

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He who upheld the laws of the three worlds, found his attention irrevocably drawn to a ritual the likes of which hadn’t been seen in millennia.

It did not go against the established laws. Rather, it accessed other, even older laws, from before the current system was established.

The Spirit King watched.

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“If this sacrifice pleases you, accept my offer and bestow upon these bones of the earth the spirit of this hunter.”

Rukia breathed out slowly as she finished speaking.

Nothing happened. Nothing physical, anyways. But something about the mountain had… Changed. It felt like she was being watched by an entire group of people, and she had no idea whether they were hostile or not.

… if she had to classify it, the emotion felt like… Curiosity?

Rukia shivered as she waited for the offering to burn, a feeling of paranoia falling over her.

Still, she forced herself to remain in place. She wouldn’t show weakness.

Another hour later, and the offering was reduced to ashes. Still, Rukia remained until the sun began to rise, only then placing everything back in her bag, along with her newly gained ore.

Rukia didn’t say how relieved she was when she finally met up with the others back at the base of the mountain.

Maybe she’d wait a while before looking for solitude. Right now, after that, she just wanted company.

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??? POV, at a later time, and in a different place

The wolf charged through the undergrowth, heedless of what stood in his path.

The Predator was chasing it.

It had begun two days ago, waves of spiritual pressure emanating from a spot within the forest. While not especially strong, it felt of eagerness and bloodlust, prompting most other animals to flee.

And now it was somewhere behind it, and he had to get away -

“RARGH!”

Something impacted its back with a snarl, hard, and the wolf immediately stumbled as it attempted to swipe at whatever landed on it.

The small creature easily dodged it and proceeded to move up to its head, grabbing its ears and glaring at it with maddened eyes.

“I haven’t eaten in TWO DAYS!” Homura snarled in its face before slamming a knife into its eye, “Either FEED ME!”  *Stab!* “Or BE MY SACRIFICE SO I CAN LEAVE!”

The wolf bellowed in pain and lurched violently to the side, dislodging the crazed girl while leaving the knife in the eye.

That was fine by her. The knife wasn’t satisfying enough anyways.

Before the wolf was able to run away - *Slam!* - a large club-like branch slammed into its face with enough force to break it. Turning, it tried to find the small girl, only for - *Wham!* - another blow coming in from the side, causing the wolf to almost fall down from the force. Catching sight of the pest, it immediately bit at her, powerful jaws barely missing her body.

She promptly bit back while giving her own growl.

She might have only gotten a mouthful of fur for her efforts, not even able to get to the flesh to attempt to do actual damage, but that wasn’t the point.

And that point was THIS STUPID WOLF WAS THE PHYSICAL INCARNATION OF ALL HER TROUBLES THE LAST TWO DAYS AND SHE WAS GOING TO DESTROY IT!

She might not have been able to reinforce her body like Shirou could, but her body had been conditioned enough by Shirou’s training that her reserves had increased substantially, her body using that spiritual power to passively increase her strength and endurance.

The wolf might have had great natural strength and endurance, an animal’s instinctual knowledge of how to fight, outweighing her many times over with claws and teeth and stuff… BUT! She had Shirou’s training and, more importantly, a deep and abiding hatred of all that that bear now represented.

Half an hour later.

Homura limped into the original clearing still seething, a wound on her leg and her hair messed up and her clothes in rags, blood spattered all over her body.

She slammed the heart onto the plate, taking a few forceful breaths before saying the words to finish the ritual (Shirou had hammered that part in. Stick with the ritual, and don’t deviate.) But as soon as she finished, she glared up at the sky. “This is the best I’m doing for you.” She growled sullenly. “If you don’t accept it, let me know now so I can start hunting you.”

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The forest shook as the spirit of the forest observed.

What an... Unusual little hunter.

They liked her.