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Hishida had been lounging in a secluded, shaded area of the grounds when he spotted an orange haired shinigami making his way towards a more desolate region of the area. An idea instantaneously entered his mind, which forced him to stand up at that very instant. The dirt crunched underneath the youth’s feet as he hastened his pace in order to meet up with is target. His eyes, glistening with an uncommon determination, focused onto the man as he began his training session. “Exceptional technique” his zanpakuto spirit speculated as the two beings scrutinized Hibiki’s movements.

Hishida then noticed another shinigami approaching Hibiki. “Interesting” the soul reaper thought to himself as he took note of the appearance of his comrade, Mashiro. The brown haired shinigami then drew his mysterious blade and rested it on his shoulder. Knowing Hishida’s intentions at this point, Metarikku Tansen then changed its shape from katana, to shikai without any sort of incantation muttered. The blade then grew in length and width and started radiating a black fog like aura. An undeniable bloodlust could be sensed exuding from his right arm, and with this, Hishida yelled to the third seat, as if ignoring Mashiro’s presence: “We never had a chance to begin our match, Hibiki.”

Having returned to his shadow fight with the invisible foe, Hibiki noted the girl he'd seen in the bar scurry past, taking notes on things, it seemed. Normal enough, and girls didn't make him nervous unless he had to interact with one. Continuing his fluid steps, parrying with an attack that never came, stepping without ever crossing legs, eyes always alert. He paused once more in his motion, holding his position until his eyes verified what he'd heard. He'd heard footsteps. He turned to confirm, and saw an approaching officer, Mashiro.

Lowering his katana, Hibiki nodded his head to the 4th Seat who had walked up, and replied, "Greetings, Mashiro-san." He didn't offer a bow because he was still in his stance, and a bow would involve moving his feet to be parallel, so to cross. He noted that the blonde shinigami wore a red cape, similar in a way to his cloak, only much less worse for wear. He opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped as he felt another approaching presence.

There he was, Hishida that is, a little while's away on the training grounds, blade slung over his shoulder, a shikai most probably considering its odd outwardly appearance and aura. How interesting. Nephele remained silent in his hand however. Curious... But is pondering why was cut short as the brown haired shinigami shouted what sounded like the beginnings of a challenge. As a reflex his grip on her hilt tightened a bit, but he didn't move an inch. To be provoked was to be controlled.

Mashiro who was still by him gave a retort about showing respect for higher ranking officers. Hibiki was fine with those calling him without his title enough when he knew them, but did agree somewhat with Mashiro in this case.

Speaking his usual even tone he had on the battle field, the one free of nervous stammers he had when being social in other settings and full of a calm professionalism, he called out in reply. "No, I do not believe we did, Hishida-san. I believe I waited in a field whistling and waiting for an opponent who chose not to show his face at that time." He stated the facts, not mediating them. Despite his indifferent nature towards some things, he was truly annoyed of someone not honouring their duty to show up to a fight. Still, his expression remained stoic, and his sword kept her silence.

Noting the look Hishida gave Mashiro, Hibiki guessed that the threat between the 4th seats wasn't going to go much further than its being spoken. That was fine. Matters of opinion like this did not concern him unless they escalated. Watching the brown haired shinigami lower his blade, he considered the more sincere words he gave as a reply.

"The past is the past, I guess, though the apology is appreciated. Your own business is your own of course," Hibiki said in his even tone, not really even curious of what 'complications' were not really to brought up, but respecting there seemed to be a reason for his absence. Watching the shiver of... was it excitement... or anxiousness... run through his soon to be opponent, he knew this was happening now. Indefinitely.

"Alright. No stakes. A spar, no limits, until defeat is clear by admittance or failure to continue. Sound alright to you, Hishida-san?" His right hand held his katana's hilt loosely in front of him, still lowered, but he still stood in the fencing stance he had been using prior to the other shingamis arrival.

Mashiro looked over at the new shinigami that was coming towards them. It was obvious that he was new, because no shinigami in the 13th Squad would openly walk upon Seated Officers, especially Senior ones at that. So it was upon Mashiro to teach what must be tought.

Formally excusing himself from 3rd-Seat Kita, the Blond Shinigami moved quickly to intersept the shinigami. Though he did not know shunpo yet, as Mock-Sensei was busy and had little time to train his pupil, he knew that he would have to build up speed.

Once infront of the shinigami, Mashiro stood tall and proud. His red cape, which went down to his ankles, blew in the light breeze. He said nothing as he waited for the shinigami. To do what that was to be expected for any new member. Then again it was impossible to tell that Mashiro was a seated officer, even concidering only seated officers have the privledge of weaing clothing with their uniform.

Mashiro looked at the boy before him. It has been about a year since Mashiro joined Squad 13 and already a seated officer. Still looking at the boy before him, Mashiro could not help but notice himself in the shinigami. His appearence was also interesting since he had never met a shinigami out of the typical black kimono. " I am 4th-Seat, Mashiro Morimoto of Squad 13."

With that Mashiro walked past the boy, who's head was still bowed. The Blond Shinigami's red cape shifted from left to right as he walked past, which glew in a vibrant red color. Not turning around Mashiro spoke " Come with me, Hajima Hitoroku. We shall have words elsewhere. The 3rd Seat is in the middle of a duel and it would not be proper to have a defenseless infant cought in the middle. Not even Jou-Shirû could protect you from it...." With that Mashiro continued to walk out of the Trainning Grounds, so Hishida and Kita could continue in peace.

[Exits: Endless Forrest]

(( Lets head to the Endless Forrest so we don't disturb them in a duel.))

Watching silently and unmoving as Hishida gave the sign of assent to the terms of the duel, Hibiki observed his opponent's weapon and release, scrutinizing each new aspect. The black aura that originally surrounded him had expanded, and become more violent in its nature. The blade was point towards him, and with what must be a mental command, the mass of blackness shot off what seemed to be 4 minuscule metal projectiles towards him at dangerously high speed. A range attack then. Interesting opening move. Noting every last detail in a few precious moments, the shinigami was ready to react.

Holding his stance, Hibiki raised his katana, it still being grasped in his right hand loosely for the time. They are quite close together, so fully dodging all of them is a foolish choice with many risks. Better to dodge half, deflect one, and risk the final. Nephele stayed silent, probably having no complaints with his deduction for once. Hibiki's left foot lunged further to the left, and shifting his weight to it immediately his entire body followed with ease, and during this motion he brought his sword higher and forward just as the two projectiles more to his right whizzed by that side where he was once standing. To see this and his move at the same time one would have to slow it all down, because it went by in an instant.

Not even waiting a tick of time, Hibiki thrust his sword forwards, his guard positioned at the point where one was headed, the blade angled to intercept the last. The one close to the blade hit first, and with the force absorbed into the 3rd Seat's arm with a shake. Because of the downward angle of the blade as they met it ricocheted up and over Hibiki's head. Then the final projectile to make contact struck the side of his sword's guard hard, the brunt of the impact rattling his hand as it flew off to the right from the deflection. Not giving his obviously tensed and sore hand a break, Hibiki pivoted on his feet, and sliced towards the right, slashing the piece in half, and continued the pivot around to nick the one that flew over him in and upward swing, sending it crashing down into the dirt. Standing sideways relative to his opponent so he could still watch him, he looked warily in the direction the two that had shot by him had gone. He wouldn't count them out, in the case that Hishida still had some control of them after their initial shooting.

He stood stock still, still making no offensive move. He'd play a defensive opening, it suited this fight.

Regarding his opponent when there was no immediate rebuttal to his display, Hibiki knew he was being observed just as he did so often in fights. He noted that the projectiles he'd dealt with had vanished. That was a good sign. They wouldn't be coming back towards him from a direction without his full attention. Pivoting so slightly that it was barely detectable he changed his side stance to face his opponent on a 45 degree angle slowly. His eyes bore no hint of aggression, just their steady gaze that usually came over him when he watched a fight from the sidelines.

The black mass behind Hishida was growing once again. This was a preparation for an larger assault, most definite by the size and the way he was pooling it together. It was easily a force to be reckoned with, but at this distance from the energy, Hibiki had little in his arsenal he could use for such a thing. His ranged abilities were very few. He'd have to think.

As his opponent spoke, a taunt it seemed, Hibiki raised a brow, but any other change to his expression was imperceptible. "You wish to provoke with such a display? Its reminiscent of a child crying out for attention from the cradle. The worried parent will crack and come coddle it if it grows louder, but those using the self soothing practice will not come regardless of whether its a whimper or a scream. Do I look like I'm here to nurture, to crack and change my plan for a simple childish attempt?" He left his own question unanswered. Instead he raised his blade and leveled it in front of himself, awaiting whatever large onslaught his opponent planned. He'd dodge or counter, depending on speed, power and attack design. Three methods of counter began to form in his mind's eye as he waited...