Itazura didn’t remember much of what had happened after he felt and saw the point of a zanpakutō pierce his back and go out through the front of his chest. He could remember Fujimoto roaring like a man possessed, and rain, but anything after that was filled by his quiet whispers as he clung to life. Now that he thought a little more on what happened he hadn’t even screamed out in pain. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. The opposite was true. It hurt far more than anything he’d ever endured: his training with Kusaka and Sojiro paled in comparison, his sparring sessions with the Captain-Generals, and finally the torture he’d endured from Toshie. All were nothing compared to that one pierce. Now that he thought about it, it simply came down to killing intent.
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