Bleach:Zangetsu

"Thank you for releasing me," came the soft, trembling voice of a woman. She was an adult with long, flowing pink hair that cascaded from her back like delicate petals in the wind. Her figure was draped in Torn black Shinigami robes, stained with blood and marks of battle. A vicious scar ran across her eyes, In fact, there were cuts all over her exposed body like slash marks.

"Don't mention it..." The man's voice was cold, distant, as he gripped the hilt of Tensa Zangetsu, his words devoid of warmth. His long, orange hair swayed gently in the stillness of the realm, its color a stark contrast against the empty void surrounding them. "My King always hated the way Kenpachi wielded you."

The woman—Nozarashi—sighed softly, her gaze drifting toward the infinite white expanse. A slight frown tugged at the corner of her lips. "I had always hoped he would learn my name, understand me..." Her voice trailed off into the emptiness.

Zangetsu's eyes, flickered in the direction of her fading form. "He was unworthy of you. Nozarashi," he cut in, his voice dripping with disdain, "A failure, a disgrace as a true warrior." Zangetsu did not bother to hide the deep frown on his face.

Nozarashi tilted her head, her soft smile still lingering despite the bitterness. "But he was still my master... the one I loved dearly. What's a sword without a hand to wield it?"

Zangetsu said nothing, his gaze unwavering as the air between them grew thick with silence. Nozarashi's body, already fragile, began to crack—fissures spreading across her form like fractures in glass. She was fading, dissolving into spirit particles, her essence slipping away like the soft glow of fireflies fading in the dark night.

"Normally, a Zanpakuto would attack its wielder's enemies," she murmured, her voice a faint whisper. "But... I am relieved. At least I can rest now... knowing that I tried my best until the very end." Her body continued to crumble, the pain of countless years of abuse and neglect having left her hollow, but the weariness in her tone spoke of a warrior who had long given up the fight.

A single tear traced its way down her cheek, glistening in the pale light. Zangetsu's bone-like claws reached out, catching the tear in a motion so delicate it defied the harshness of his form. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness between them—an unspeakable understanding that passed silently in the space between their gazes. Nozarashi's eyes widened in quiet disbelief at the unexpected tenderness in Zangetsu's touch.

"Zan—"

"Of all the blades I've ever encountered... You were the one I longed to fight the most," Zangetsu said, his voice carrying a note of wistful regret. His gaze softened as he watched her slowly disappear, each crack in her form another piece of her fading from existence.

Nozarashi's smile remained, though it was tinged with sadness. "Too bad we were both dealt dirty by our masters," she said, her words heavy with sorrow. "My condolences... for your King Zan."

Zangetsu's expression hardened, the rage and sorrow that had brewed deep within him evident even in the silence that followed. His grip on Tensa Zangetsu tightened, though he said nothing.

Zanpakuto could feel each other's presence, even in the absence of their wielders. Zangetsu clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to lash out, but Nozarashi, sensing his turmoil, reached out and embraced him in an unexpected moment of compassion.

"I'm so sorry,.." she whispered, her voice filled with empathy.

"He had so much potential... If only he had accepted me..." Zangetsu's voice broke, a faint tremor in the otherwise stoic facade.

"Shhh," Nozarashi soothed him softly, her arms wrapping around the hollow form of his spirit. "I know it hurts," Her words were more than just comfort—they were a shared understanding of the pain that only another Zanpakuto could know. The loss of a wielder was an agony unlike any other. It was the agony of a mother losing a child, or a child losing their mother. The connection was unspoken, yet its weight was felt deeply.

As her form continued to crumble, Nozarashi's smile never wavered, even as her essence became more fragmented, more distant. "Zangetsu..." she murmured, her voice growing faint. "You are so much like me... yet unlike me. That's why, from the moment our masters clashed blades, I knew I'd always want to fight you."

Her fading form clung to Zangetsu's spirit, her arms tightening in an attempt to hold him closer, despite her disintegration. Her words were a breath against his Ear, Husky and soft. "I understood you the most, Zangetsu. It was your drive, your unyielding will, that drew me to you. And I know... I know it's that very same drive that will push you forward. It's what will make you rise above everything that's happened... and find your own path."

Zangetsu's gaze darkened, his orange hair falling over his eyes as he stood in silence, his voice a whisper in the quiet. "But am I supposed to do now?"

"That is for you to decide," she replied, her smile wistful, as her body slowly disintegrated into the wind. "But all I can say... is keep moving forward."

And then, as the last of her form faded into nothingness, Nozarashi's face lingered, her smile forever etched in the His memory.

"And should we meet again... Let it be in battle, as equals."

With that, her form shattered, leaving only the faintest trace of her presence in the empty void.

Zangetsu remained motionless as her final words pressed heavily on his soul. The hollow form of his spirit quivered, but there was no sound, no cry, only a quiet acceptance of what was now.

"Rest in peace, Nozarashi," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You will not be forgotten."

------

All of that happened the moment Zangetsu held that fool's blade in his hand. He freed her from the grip of a master who never truly understood her, never truly valued her. In his eyes, dying like this was a mercy he wished to give, a final act of compassion in a world that had long denied both of them peace.

Nozarashi had been one of the few who truly understood the loneliness that plagued him, the isolation that hung like a shadow over his existence. Only Muramasa had ever come close to grasping the weight of it—the weight of being bound to a King who could never accept him, never understand him. The rejection Zangetsu had endured, a rejection that lingered like an open wound, had been his constant companion, even to the final breath of his King.

And yet, here he was—fulfilling his King's wish despite it all. The very same wish that had bound him to a fate he never chose, that had pushed him to fight, to be the sword and shield for someone who never truly saw him for what he was.

Many would laugh at Zangetsu's loyalty, mock the idea of serving a King who had shown nothing but disdain. But He would never laugh. No, that was not his way. He would honor his King's wish, no matter the cost, no matter the pain. Because, despite everything, Zangetsu knew one truth deep in his soul—he would never betray the promise he had made.

His King had been flawed, human, perhaps even blind to Zangetsu's true nature. But Zangetsu, would never betray that bond. It was a bond that transcended understanding, transcended even the depths of pain.

No, Zangetsu would not laugh. He would honor his King, as he always had.

"Now then what to do with you, Nelliel?" The hollow Knight muttered, his gaze was cold, calculating, as he watched her struggle to breathe. she broken, battered, but still she cling to life, her spirit refusing to die even as her body screamed in agony due to soul crashing Reiatsu of Yami and Him.

It was something that Zangetsu liked. The spirit of Persistence something that reminded him of his former King.

 (Author thoughts: Tell me what you guys think. :)

I am happy to answer questions and well if you have any idea let me know.