The Noble Sort

A/N: As usual, all the important information is lurking in the notes of the first two parts.

Happy New Year! For 2011, you get 31 and 32 to enjoy before heading out to your New Year festivities (well, at least depending on your time zones!). Only 8 more and an epilogue to go before we're finished.

Enjoy!

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"The Noble Sort"

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The night had passed slowly, with her talking to Hidaruma and pacing her uncle's rooms to stay awake in the lull of the darkness.

But it had been preferable to the morning. When there was enough light that her uncle was up and moving about in his bedroom, her stomach started sinking. Nishiori would have been smartest to attack at night, but he hadn't. His appearance the day before wasn't a coincidence, though; he would be coming at them sometime today.

All of the files, memos, pictures—every bit of evidence they had gathered—was securely stored in a false book that her uncle would keep with him today. It was sitting so innocently on his small kotatsu, as if the papers contained inside weren't the cause of all the anxiety she was feeling.

They had discussed everything the night before. Her uncle would not be leaving his personal office until Nishiori made his appearance. It was the most likely avenue of attack—the balcony was wide and unprotected, few people were allowed in without express permission, and her uncle did not keep guards on duty outside. It would have been her only daytime choice if she was trying to pull it off.

But one thing was still bothering her.

She understood how Nishiori was thinking. She had been in this situation before, where you felt the only option was the one so radical no one else would comprehend it, but why her uncle? Oji-san and Sasakibe had been so sure that part of this was linked to him, to either get him in trouble or end with him dead or in disgrace. She didn't understand it.

Of course, she hadn't been through all of the files, either.

Matsu had been very straightforward when he explained why he chose her for involvement. But she also knew that an order had originated in Central, too. What were Nishiori and Rashogen out for? Not just a promotion, surely. Especially to Zero. Central was a cushy job, Zero was not. Zero was prestigious, sure, but it also meant you left behind everything and never got any glory for what you did. It didn't strike her as their type of gig.

Could it have been a power play? One that, when it didn't work out, they took what they were offered?

Matsu wasn't the type, that she knew, but Nishiori could be. Most of the people in Central liked power but didn't like the work needed to get power. That's why they were there. She wouldn't put it past anyone in Central to hear of such a plot and try to turn it to their own good.

She hated not having all the information, especially when what she didn't know was steering her actions.

Even though it was bothering her, she pushed it from her mind. There were more important things to think about right now than something her uncle had already worked out. He hadn't shared it with her, but she would find out sooner or later.

Right now, she had to worry about the attack that would come at some point during the day. She sent a quick text to Akane, who was below her, in her uncle's rooms with both him and Sasakibe, and then she was soaring through the air, heading across the gleaming buildings of Seiretei. There was one more visit to make before her uncle moved to his office—the distance would give her time to think this all through.

She had to plan.

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Nanao had heard the knock on the door but ignored it. She figured it was one of their squad members or a messenger; there was no discernable reiatsu, so it was someone low in rank.

She could hear a muffled voice, female, but both the visitor and Shunsui were keeping their voices low. Either they were worried about waking someone up or they didn't want her to overhear their conversation. It could, she admitted to herself silently, be that they wanted no one to overhear. The secret corps had their ways of moving without detection—it could be a classified message.

She quashed the part of her subconscious that whispered it could be an old lover, a new lover, a lover period. She had expected him to stray but he never had; he didn't deserve her doubts. He had proven that, while he had not always been the most serious or the most constant when it came to romance, their relationship was important to him.

She waited until she heard him shut the door before she exited the bathroom, calmly walking to the other side of her bedroom and standing in front of the mirror to finish dressing. She would be calm. She would not second guess this anymore.

It had been three years. It was time to stop doubting him.

"There is a curious air today, Nanao-chan," he said as he stepped up behind her, his hands coming up to caress her neck.

But, God, he had the ability to make her feel like they were carrying on some illicit romance.

"Not now," she said warningly. "We have to be in the office in fifteen minutes."

"As if the world is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen."

His nose nuzzled her dark hair right above her temple as his hands shifted lower, circling her waist. She suddenly had to put ten times the effort of normal into tying her sash and straightening her haori. She let her hands slide against his briefly, a small show of affection, before pushing his from her waist and turning to the chest of drawers in the corner. She still needed her glasses.

"I'm sure you'll be right there and involved," she muttered as she secured the last bit of her personal armor, sliding her zanpakutou into her left sleeve and her glasses onto her nose.

"Hmm. Perhaps we should go visit Yama-jii this morning," he said as a sly grin slid across his face. But she knew better; his eyes were saying something very different.

What was up?

"What are you on about this morning?" she asked as she moved past him to the door, securing her sandals before giving him a small kiss on the mouth.

It was their morning ritual. One kiss before they left. He was not allowed any public displays of affection once they made it to the office. It was usually enough to hold off the more…physical displays, even though he would be teasing and flirting with her all day.

He wouldn't be himself otherwise.

Truthfully, it was reassuring. The day he stopped flirting and pestering she knew their relationship was doomed.

"I've been nosing around. You know I love a good mystery."

"Finally found yourself wrapped up in something you shouldn't have gotten into? You should leave it all alone—if he wanted you to know, he would have told you about it."

"Nanao-chan!" he exclaimed petulantly, his big brown eyes full of fake sadness. "You would think such things about your taichou? About your lover?"

She scoffed at him as they stepped through the door, not missing his sly smirk as he called himself her "lover." He used the word as much as possible, mainly because he knew she thought it the most scandalous term he could possibly use to describe either of them. Especially where people could hear him.

He was determined to embarrass her at every turn.

"Of course I would."

"Yare! My lovely Nanao-chan! How cruel you are—"

"Shut it, taichou," she said, her more aggressive side showing. She had let herself voice her thoughts more than normal since they began this…relationship…but he didn't seem to mind. If anything, he seemed that much more attentive. "We have quite a bit to do today and I won't have time for your antics."

"Ah, but Nanao-chan, I was not making a suggestion." He tipped up the sakkat he had just placed on his head mere minutes before. "Let's get something for breakfast and head over to see Yama-jii. You'll want to be there for this."

"Oh?" she said, her disbelief evident, but she also knew not to fight.

When he got in these moods, nothing could stop him. And he was rarely wrong—if he thought they should be there, then they should be there. She would trust his instincts before she would trust anyone else's eyes and ears.

There was also the interesting early morning visit to take into account. Perhaps the unknown female had been a messenger from the first?

Either way, it didn't matter. He was her taichou, her lover, her other half both professionally and romantically. He had never led her astray before. She would follow him whenever he requested it and even when he didn't. She would trust him with everything she had.

She trusted him with her life.

There were few people that held that honor. Her taichou, obviously. Ukitake-taichou. To an extent, Matsumoto, although she knew there were situations where the loud woman's loyalty could potentially be against her.

Everyone else was gone or dead.

There had been Lisa. She was alive still, but Nanao doubted she would ever get to see her again. There was their old sixth seat, Yuuhi Hoshi, who had died years ago but had been so loyal she would've trusted him with anything. And there was Minako, who was as dead as Yuuhi-san. There had also been an old sensei in the academy, a good man that had died during Aizen's uprising.

Thankfully, things were much more peaceful now. Their comrades weren't dying, and—she looked over at the tall man walking next to her, his haori swaying in the early morning breeze—he wasn't fighting dangerous battles. She knew it wouldn't last forever, but she would take it as long as it was there.

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She almost couldn't believe Hidaruma's senses were working right when he finally got a whiff of the imageless scent.

They had been sitting there for at least three hours—the sun was climbing into the sky and the day warming before Nishiori showed himself. Most likely he was counting on her uncle taking a lunch break or the fact that the clerks would be at lunch when he made his appearance. Less witnesses.

She sat up slowly, quietly so as not to disturb her uncle or his two visitors—poor Nanao was obviously about to blow a gasket if she had to sit there unproductive any longer—and edged her way to the balcony. The scent was coming from above. If she could catch him up there and drag him away it would be better for everyone. There would also be less damage. Fights between shinigami with their level of reiatsu tended to have devastating effects on any surrounding buildings and was generally frowned upon off of the training field.

She went to jump, but she was startled at the last second. Instead of landing directly above her uncle's office she ended up to the right, sword out underneath the cloak.

What the fuck, shishi?

Something's not right, Minako. She could hear the tremor in his voice—unusual.

She glanced around, wary, but she couldn't see anything, couldn't hear even the breathing of another person.

Shishi?

The scent changed. How did they manage it? It's…how…

There was a gentle breeze to her left, and she pivoted quickly, turning, but no one approached. She backed up further, her eyes darting around to catch the slightest movement, the one moment her pursuer screwed up, but there was nothing. Not a sound, not a glimpse of a foot or hand.

Get off the roof. Now!

What?

Get down, Minako!

She was actually closer to the inner courtyard than she was the balcony that led back to her uncle's office, so she moved that way, landing directly in the soft grass and then moving to backtrack to the office. But she never made it—she heard the whoosh as soon as she jumped, someone coming right up behind her, but she couldn't turn fast enough. She was pushed up against the wall in front of her, a sword at her throat and a man's arm secure around her waist.

"Get off me," she hissed, trying to bring her own sword up and out from under the cloak at his arm, but the angle was too awkward. She couldn't get it high enough to stab at his arm, and secured as she was, there was no fighting back.

She had been truly caught unaware.

Shit.

You have no idea, Minako. Scream!

What? She asked, confused. Bringing the first division down on them would be bad.

This isn't Nishiori.

She felt the shock spread through her, knew it was showing on her face, and then she felt warm breath on her cheek as the man behind her leaned forward.

"Dear girl, that was a stupid move."

Oh, fuck.

"How?" she said, her voice hoarse and rough. She felt the sword at her throat jiggle just a bit, scratching her skin, as he chuckled.

"You're still so young; there are many things in this world you don't know." The hand on her waist was feeling around under the waist band of her pants, and she tried to jerk backwards as he moved his hand further back, but the sword was snapped up tight, next to her throat. She went still.

She almost felt like crying when she saw him pull the gun out from under her cloak and stash it somewhere in his own. It had been the one hope she would have.

"Slowly now, Minako. Switch the sword to your left hand in front of you." She did so, even as she felt his hand come to rest tightly around her left wrist. He had total control now; she was screwed. "You should have just made this easier on both of us. We wouldn't be here now."

"I would, even if you wouldn't."

Her left arm was brought down, close to her waist. She would most likely end up chopping her own leg off if she tried to make too quick of a movement.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. There were few choices here. One, she let him do what he wanted—hopefully they would go somewhere and do this without witnesses. But she doubted it. Two, they ended up in oji-san's office and a fight broke out. People would die. Three, she screamed, warning everyone that he was in danger and she brought the full force of the divisions on both their heads. She would end up dead, most likely, but so would he.

She had no clue what to do. She hadn't planned for this.

She felt herself shoved suddenly against the wall, her captor hissing at her to be silent as a clerk walked by. She did so—not because she was obeying him but so that the young clerk wouldn't be pulled into this. He was green, much too young. He would be killed quickly.

As he rounded the corner and moved out of sight, she forced herself to calm down. She needed him talking so she could figure out what to do.

Her right arm was free; she moved it minutely to grab her phone and pressed each button slowly, her text message menu having been memorized and a multitude of pre-recorded messages ready.

Akane would know to get everyone out as soon as she received it, if she could get it sent.

"How are you—"

"Alive, dear girl?" He chuckled, a too-tender kiss pressed against her cheek as he did so. She fought the urge to vomit. "Like I said, I know things you don't. Like how to switch a body right when I need to. Things they don't teach in the secret corps."

She raised a brow.

"You knew about that, huh?"

"Oh, Minako, you were silent for over a century before being put into the Eighth. There were only two places you could have possibly gone. At first, I was sure it was Onmitsukidō. Your lack of skill in kidō has been widely publicized. But I was wrong, yes?"

She glared at the wall in front of her.

"Of course. You are rarely quiet. But flashy—you do that quite well. So was it an accident or a ruse?"

"Both, actually," she said, her mouth dry. "There was an accident with a blood barrier. My kidō was never the same. But I can still outperform you, I bet."

"I should have known. You excel at barriers—your bankai was based off kidō manipulation. Where is your tattoo, though? I have seen every inch of your body—other than the tattoo you got in Miami, there are only scars. Oh, oh. How tricky. Your inner lip, yes? I once had a squad member that had one in the same place, as well as one that had theirs on the sole of their foot. But you wouldn't have gone for that—the lip, though, yes, that's very you. Hidden."

"It's not the only thing," she growled, her thumb hitting the send button. Akane would get the message any minute now.

But her elbow made contact with his stomach.

"Put that down, lovely," he said, and she threw the phone to the ground. "Good girl," he purred, "but did you actually get anything sent?"

"None of your business, you sonofabitch."

"Language," he warned, pressing her closer to the wall, the wood biting into her cheek.

"Screw you."

"You already have, remember?"

Her anger was still rising, continually growing as he played with her, but she couldn't even move.

"And Nishiori?"

"You killed him, Minako. What a murderer you've turned out to be!" His voice was somewhat playful, almost reminding her of Shinji, and a shudder ran down her spine.

"You're crazy, aren't you?" she said, her exasperation evident. "It would figure. I always get the psychos."

"Perfectly sane, I assure you." His grip on her wrist tightened and he pulled it back and out just a bit. He was preparing for something. "But it had to happen; next time you'll know to use all six seals, hmm?"

"There won't be a next time, Matsu."

He shrugged, turning her just a bit.

"How about we take a walk, precious? I think there is someone we need to visit." He jerked her from the wall, the sword catching a bit of skin on her throat. She felt the blood trickling down her skin and onto her shirt, but she ignored it. It wasn't even enough to sting yet.

"How about we go somewhere and settle this ourselves?"

"Oh, I don't think so. You've fucked everything up now, did you know that? You've fucked it all up, and I have to fix it somehow. I'm not losing my badge over this, not now." He jerked her wrist again. "Pull our hoods off with your right hand, and push the cloaks back off our shoulders. We'll need to be visible for this. Slowly, Minako."

She glowered darkly, staring straight ahead as she did as he commanded, then he marched her down the hall. There was no one passing, thankfully, but the feeling of foreboding inside her grew.

They were heading straight toward oji-san.

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Akane stared, disgruntled, at the group that had converged in the office. She had known Minako was calling in her taichou, but she was pretty sure her sensei had not called his best friend. In fact, she was pretty sure her sensei was trying to avoid even getting close to the man right now. And she knew she hadn't called tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, the dynamic duo whose stupidity knew no bounds and everyone in the divisions laughed at on a regular basis.

But here he was, his third seats in tow, spouting something about having tracked down his best friend and wondering why he was with their sensei.

These shinigami could smell a conspiracy in a sandstorm a continent away when it wasn't Aizen's doing.

But no one had noticed her yet, thankfully, although she had noticed her sensei's quick escape of the room earlier. She hadn't missed the breeze as the woman jumped from the balcony up to the roof. It gave her chills; everything would start soon.

She felt her phone buzz, the vibration short and quiet enough not to attract attention, and she flipped it open under the cloak, glaring at the screen.

~Minako~

There was a brief moment of confusion. Sensei was supposed to be fighting Nishiori, not texting.

She felt her stomach drop as she flipped the phone open. Did something happen? Did Nishiori leave? She was tired of doing this after just a few days, ready for it to be over.

~Change of plans~

Her stomach dropped the rest of the way to her feet—she knew what that meant.

There were others in the room, four that did not know of her existence, but she had no choice. She jumped up from the wall, scurrying over to the desk and the now-odd assortment of chairs in front of it and whipped the cloak backwards, jerking the clasp at the neck apart and letting it fall to the ground. She saw the four who hadn't known of her presence jerk but she ignored it, turning to the sou-taichou.

"Something's wrong. We've been ordered to evacuate."

"Evacuate? Why—"

"I don't know, Sasakibe, all I know is what I got. Something's wrong."

The two taichou in front of her and their subordinates stood, obviously ready to question her or actually leave, but the sou-taichou put his hand out.

"Stay where you are."

Everybody immediately complied, her commands being overridden by his, but they were all in battle stances now, ready to fight. That was something, she guessed.

"What did the message say, Akane-san?"

She looked at the fuku-taichou of the first, her eyes dark.

"Change of plans. It's code for 'get the hell out of dodge.'"

His own hand went to the hilt of his sword. He was obviously smart enough to realize that the order wasn't given in vain. If Minako had ordered them out, there was most likely a good reason for it. Problem was, Akane couldn't figure out what it would be.

"Genryuusai-sensei, what is going on?" she heard Ukitake-taichou ask, and she held in the insane laughter that threatened to bubble up and escape from her mouth. Something really bad was about to happen, that was what.

She didn't have to wait long.

There was a knock at the door, drawing all of their eyes, and Sasakibe hesitantly stepped forward, swinging the door open before using shunpo to zoom back to the middle of the room. He was back behind his taichou before anyone got to see who was entering the room.

But Akane felt her heart join her stomach on the floor when she finally saw who it was.

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Minako fought the urge to curse when she saw the group in the office.

Fuck.

There were extras, never good. And they obviously hadn't heeded her warning, something they would all get chewed out for later. If she lived.

But now there were nine very surprised faces staring straight at them, most likely all surprised for very different reasons. One, she was being held captive. Two, some of these people didn't know she was alive. And three, well, the guy holding her hostage wasn't supposed to be alive either.

She barely caught sight of a hell butterfly as it flitted out in the open air above the balcony. Someone else had gotten a message off, obviously. Was it oji-san?

"Sou-taichou," she heard Matsu say, his dark voice amused as he stepped into the room. "Someone shut the door once we get further in, please." His grip tightened on the sword when he said it, a cue that there would be consequences otherwise.

She snorted as Sasakibe did exactly as ordered. Idiot. He should've let him cut her throat and then attacked.

"Minako—"

"Stay back, Akane," she warned, her voice tight. She didn't want the girl near them. He wouldn't hesitate to take her out, she knew.

They were on the opposite side of the office now, the large group staring at them still. Her uncle was standing, though, moving around his desk slowly. Suddenly the grip on her wrist tightened to an unbearable level, and she hissed as she dropped Hidaruma to the ground when she lost control of the muscles. She heard it clang as he kicked it across the room.

She was now completely unarmed.

"What a reunion, eh, Minako? Your uncle, your little protégé, your former taichou and his fuku-taichou, and—hmm. Where does he fit in, I wonder?" She felt his nose trace a path down her cheek, and she fought the urge to flick her eyes to meet those of the pale man staring at her. "Is he here to protect your oji-san?"

She stared straight ahead at Akane, begging her eyes not to look to the left.

"Matsuno-fuku-taichou," she heard her uncle say with dark anger in his voice, "what do you think you are doing?"

She felt him back up and allowed herself a deep breath.

"Not surprised I'm not dead? Maybe you just took it better than she did. She was very surprised, I assure you." He kissed her jaw, his eyes never leaving the group of shinigami in front of them, and her former taichou moved forward, hand on his sword. She felt Matsu jerk her left hand up, her palm facing the group as he cut off circulation and bent it backward. She fought the yelp that grew in her throat as she felt bones sliding and twisting irregularly. "Don't move."

Kyouraku-taichou stopped, his eyes dark.

"Was it him then, Minako? Is he the one?" She shook her head, biting her lip as he continued to bend the strained wrist backward. "Who then, dear girl? Who did you betray me for?"

She couldn't help it—her eyes flicked over, meeting the copper eyes of the man who had been in her thoughts since she had been forced to leave. She quickly reset her gaze, but Matsu had already caught it.

And she almost didn't care, because just seeing his face was worth it.

His eyes were wide with shock, his brow furrowed as he tried to think, tried to plan even while in the situation, but he was still as gorgeous as ever.

"Him, then? Ukitake-taichou? I didn't know you had such good taste, Minako! Although it shouldn't surprise me—he is your type. Older, pale hair, tall and broad, even if he is on the skinny side." He jerked her wrist further back and she let her right hand curl into the fabric of his hakama, hoping the tight grip would help her focus on something other than the pain.

"Jealous much, you possessive bastard?" she bit out, her teeth gritted. "Last I knew I made it pretty clear that I fucking hated you."

She couldn't help but let out a sharp curse as he finally bent her hand backward, breaking the bones. All three taichou moved forward but stopped when she shouted at them.

"He's just trying to provoke you," she gasped, her hand on fire. She'd had worse, but it always seemed to hurt more when it was done slowly. "Don't let him get to you. He'll only get that much worse if you do!"

"What do you want?" she heard oji-san ask, his reiatsu levels beginning to rise.

"I want everything you have against me. I want my job back. I want my life back! I'm not going down because of her interfering stupidity." He dropped her wrist and she felt her body go slack with relief from the pain, slumping against him. His hand came up immediately to support her, circling her waist again.

He didn't want to slit her throat accidentally?

He can't kill you too early, onna. And you're already bleeding a great deal.

Thanks for the reassurance, shishi.

"You know I won't give it to you."

"Yama-jii—"

"Minako knew the risks when this began. I will not hand over what I have against you. We both know I have enough for sentencing if I take it to your taichou."

"That's what you get, Matsu. Shouldn't of screwed up in the first place," she said in a sing-song voice, taunting, teasing. She heard the man behind her growl, then his left arm was digging in his cloak and something cool was pressed to her side.

She watched as Akane's eyes grew wide; she was the only one that realized the weapon could actually harm her. Well, harm was putting it mildly. If he shot he would most likely blow her in half, and she was pretty sure that was fatal, even for shinigami, without immediate medical attention.

I'm sorry, she mouthed to the girl, and she couldn't help but feel remorse at the fact that she would be leaving her all alone again. Hopefully oji-san would take care of her.

"Do it," she hissed, jerking her head back to look into his eyes.

There was nothing left. If he killed her, they would attack. It was most likely the only way this would work now.

Unless…

"Do it, you fucking coward."

"So eager to die, precious? Do you want them to have to watch the life leave your body?"

If you won't do it…I'll do it myself.

"I'm eager to know that you've finally breathed your last breath, you slippery little fuck," she hissed, and then pulled the reiatsu inhibitor off her right wrist quickly, ignoring the pain of using her left hand as she rejoiced in letting her reiatsu flood the room.

His reiatsu skyrocketed as well, and soon Akane, Nanao, and the two following Ukitake had dropped to the ground, the pressure too much for them to handle. Sasakibe was pulling them backward, one by one, but she couldn't worry about them now. She had access to her power.

Hidaruma appeared fifteen feet in front of them, smoke pouring out of his nostrils and his teeth bared. He was close to attacking, only held back by the look she shot him.

"Call off your doggie, Minako. Now," he said, pressing the gun barrel deeper into the soft skin and tissue at her side.

"Fuck you."

Hidaruma lunged just as she brought her right arm up, grabbing the forearm holding the sword to her throat and twisting quickly. She felt it slice into her neck as he jerked to try and regain control, but she kept pushing, putting all her strength into disarming him. She heard him scream as she forced his arm backward, the sword barely missing her head and arm—but at the same time Hidaruma was biting down hard on his left hand, the pistol falling to the floor uselessly.

He jerked back, trying to regain his momentum and get into a defensive stance, but he had trained her as well—she could fight in close quarters against him, she knew his moves. She slid in quickly, punching him hard with her right hand straight in the nose, then brought both hands together and swung upward with all the force she could get. She heard the crunch as her broken bones slid and his jaw shattered.

He stumbled back as she staggered, her hand on fire now.

"Goddamnit, Matsu!" she screamed, her left hand held tightly to her chest as Hidaruma pounced on him, putting all of his two hundred pounds on the man's chest and arms. She kicked his sword away and bent down to grab the gun, once again securing it in the waistband of her pants.

She saw Kyouraku-taichou approach on the left, grabbing Matsu's fallen sword, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't dead yet, but she could fix that pretty quickly herself.

"Are you going to kill me in front of all these people, Minako?" he asked, his voice breathy and dark. He didn't look scared, although he wasn't happy to have lost.

"I'm not too proud."

She let the purple light grow next to her right hand, fingers spread as power crackled in the small spaces between them, and shishi changed back into his normal form not a second too soon as she slammed her hand down on the hilt of her sword, the purple power channeling through it instead of flying through the air.

"Hadō no go-juu-yon: Haien!" she shouted, feeling the drain on her reiatsu as the purple energy shot toward Matsu and engulfed his body. Her sword pinned him to the floor, and the energy spread from the tip throughout his body, incinerating him instantly.

She let herself fall back, reigning in her reiatsu as her butt hit the floor.

Her wrist was damaged badly, her neck bleeding profusely from the last hit he had been able to get in, but she was alive. And he was dead. It was over.

It was finally over.

She let herself fall into unconsciousness—her body had just been going too long at this point—right as she saw the white hair of her one-time lover enter her vision and heard Akane exclaim loudly that, once again, she hadn't gotten to fight anyone.

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The Japanese:

Hadō no go-juu-yon: Haien!: Offensive Demon Spell 54: Abolishing Flames.

R & R if you enjoyed! Happy New Year Everyone!