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Sano suited up. He put on his own battle attire. It was more comfortable than the shinigami robes. His gigai sat on his bed and watched. "Can you stop staring at me?" he said aggravated at the mod soul that he had gotten. "But you're soooo cute," it said in a girl voice. Sano sighed and unsheathed his zanpakuto. He examined it. "How ya feelin', gen xiu xai?" he asked, feeling the sword shimmer in his had. "Good," he said with a smirk. "I'm gonna go kill stuff, so be safe and try not to have too much fun." Sano smiled coolly and then leap from his widow.

Spiritual pressures that were all to familiar to him were slightly surging in numerous places. Sano headed toward them, not going too fast. He didn't want to flash step himself into trouble. He ran at his minimum speed, which was still pretty fast, and arrived there shortly. Seeing Jay, Elena, and the rotten arrancars. "Sorry to keep you all waiting," he said low enough for only them to hear. He unsheathed his zanpakuto. The wind blew and his jacket undulated in the breeze.

Kida sighed, his hand on his Bouken, and the other poised over the blade. " Come on ...come on... I can do this..." He said thrusting the blade at the target, only to let go of it as it bounced off the target, breaking and shoving a bunch of splinters in his hand. " Owwwie!!!" He shouted, falling on his arse and sticking his hand in his mouth, licking the wounds to stop the bleeding. " Man, that's the fifth one today..." he said sighing, pulling out the splinters, and bandaging his hand with the speed of a captain. " There, too bad my only good skill is healing, I can't even to a simple thrust attack without breaking things..." He said, looking at the pile of broken boukens. He sighed, taking out his oddly shaped zanpakto and took a branch off of a tree, he started to whittle it, and soon he had a perfect bouken. " I'm also good at making things, but how is that supposed to help in battle..." He said sighing, standing up and sheathing his Zanpakto he took a stance and held the Bouken like before, and thrust again, thistime hitting the target head on, but still busting the bouken, but not like all the other times. this time it busted into four pieces, each a fourth of the blade. " Whoa... that was cool." He said smiling. " Now lets see if I can do that again!" He said making another Bouken, and busting it like the first 5. His hand filled with splinters again. " Not again!!!!" He shouted as he fell on his Arse and the whole cycle began again.

The zanpakuto held tightly in my hand, I looked around me. Hollows everywhere I looked, and no one else there to aid me. Fear sent shivers through my spine as I swallowed, the monsters slowly approaching me.
Why me? I thought, my breath quickening. They approached, faster each second. I doubted even Bankai would help me, but who was I, a measly new Soul Reaper who got caught up in an incident much larger than me, to judge something like that? I was sure anyone else would think this was no real problem.
Sweat beaded down my face, I moved my foot slightly to the left, the sound of my shoe scraping against the ground more prominent than it usually would be. Fear gripped me, anger drove me. I charged at the Hollows, my zanpakuto flashing back and forth, left and right. I swung my weapon wildly, not caring what I hit, so long as I managed to escape.
Pain shot through me. I was hit. Falling to the ground, I began trying to crawl away. They all stood above me. I was dead. I knew it. Why did I even bother? The shadows fell all around me. Desperation didn’t allow me to stop. I kept going. I had to, but why? What could I do from now on?
That was when the shadows disappeared. Had the Hollows left, or were they destroyed? They must have left; there were no sounds of a struggle. But why? They almost had me. I stood up, looking around. It was then I realized it was all a dream.
I looked around my room, gazing at various objects within. What the hell was I thinking? What was a Soul Reaper, what was a zanpakuto? In fact, what was a hollow?
I got out of bed, remembering it was Saturday. “Oh well…” I muttered, “…it could have been worse. It could have been real.”

Accepted.