When you, Tsukuda Ryouta, name yourself as the one who saved the cold-eyed prodigy, Takenaka Hanae, from the Cero of a Menos Grande, Ryuu doesn't ask questions or take any time to think your answer over. The blade sheathed in black leather spins off of his shoulders and into his grasp, his right palm resting on the hilt. The weapon draw is suddenly paused as the red haired fighter of the 11th Division closes his eyes.
"Nothing you might say can make me believe that, Ryouta." Slowly, the scabbard slides aside to reveal the polished steel. With the sword laid bare, the sheath is discarded, falling to the ground. Ryuu stands up on the branch, extending the blade to his side. His eyes open, a menacing scowl replacing his once calm expression. "Charge, Judenmaru."
The weapon glows with spiritual power as its true name is uttered, extending and straightening out its slightly curved form into the shape of a spear. When the luminescence fades, the weapon's orange-reddish tint is unveiled; it's as though rust runs along the length of the metallic shaft. The spear sways and quivers lightly in the wielder's grasp, as though heavy or unbalanced in a way that makes it difficult to even hold. But the weapon's structural form isn't at fault; neither is the user's strength.
They're the mad convulsions of an overeager, bloodthirsty beast. A beast that refuses to be held back even by its owner, shaking wildly as though trying to slip out of his grasp and fight of its own accord; like a wild dog gnawing at its own chain. While its movements are subtle, it is nevertheless a disobedience on the part of a Zanpakuto that you've never seen before.
(1/2)