Bringing both legs up in a sudden movement that took most of her current energy, she kicked both feet out and straight towards Osamu’s chest. This would be immensely effective because even if he decided to get out of the way, it would involve letting go of her throat and letting her roam free. If he didn’t move his chest would be very well sore for the next few weeks, his breastbone could possibly shatter along with it. Through all that, though, Yuzuki enjoyed it. Fighting was a way she often released much of her frustration and now that she had a competent opponent, Yuzuki was well inclined to simply fight till they both passed out. Even the sharp spike of pain that went up her leg as she moved was worth it; she never knew pain was so satisfying. All thoughts of strategy, tactics and playing it smart left her mind as she was determined to brutalize the man in front of her, even if it involved the most unlikely means she’d used. There was no time for planning anything out, there was no fun in that. It was the sound of bones breaking and skin tearing that was the best of it all. 

Her efforts to prise free his hand only tightened his grip, like a man biting down in pain his grip only got harder the more it hurt. He could smell his blood seeping out just as he smelt the blood running down her leg from an earlier blow. The sharp pain of her nails going deep and the crush of her hand bruising his bone, but the grip just got tighter and tighter. Even when she ran her talon like grip down his arm he just kept squeezing, his own nails sinking in now, drawing blood but not penetrating so deep as to tear into her wind pipe. Yet. 
 
The feel of his blow to her kidney landing home was also satisfying, she had burst something deep inside of him, now he was going to extract a similar price from her. He raised his sword arm again to bear down on her once more when she made her move, kicking against him almost like he had kicked against her. He was expecting this imitation but he knew her legs were more powerful that his. There were great industrial pistons, honed to near perfection and with a force to rend walls asunder. The potential damage to his lungs and heart was immense, if his breast bone shattered and cartwheeled into his organs that would be an end to it. But he didn’t want to let go, he wanted to throttle her, to choke her until the world went black and cold. Only then would he relent, at the brink of death. But his own survival reflexes were too strong. He relaxed his grip at the last possible moment and began to shunpo back. 
 
Her kick still landed, hard. The low, loud and mistuned clang of armour could be heard as her feet made contact. The shock would soak through his bone and crack breast bone, but not outright shatter it. His organs cried out in pain and he flew back, swept away by the momentum of it all. He didn’t stop when he hit a nearby wall, nor did he stop when he hit the second. Only the third halted his flight. But when he walked out of the dust his body did not shake. Though his arm was torn and the blood gushed fourth he did not quiver. Though his breastbone threatened to collapse at any moment he did not fear. Instead he only laughed and smiled. It was the laugh of a man driven wild by the pain, the release of dealing it out and the beautiful agony of soaking it up. His arm and torso were screaming at him but it was the best he had felt in well over a century. This, this moment, might have been one of the most intense, base and guttural pleasures he had indulged in. His many achievements of the mind, his army, his career all were great pleasures in their own right. But this was different, this was primal and he wanted more. He was going to get it. 
 
His legs were still in perfect working order, shunpo would serve him well. He was tempted to resort to kido but that would be deeply unsatisfying. Only the purity of physical combat, of aching muscle and wailing bone, would do now. He paused for a few seconds to look at her, hungrily, his breathing was raspy and almost inhuman and his eyes were mad! For a single, drawn out moment he licked his lips, and then charged! 
 
He was moving forward at full tilt, raw physical power and shunpo at his back. He wagered he could out pace and out turn her now but he wanted to be sure. As such he fainted right at the last moment before hurtling left, coming at her from her right hand side. He didn’t need to get behind her now, he didn’t want to. His blade was held low, close to the floor, ready to sweep up in a vicious arc and smash her in the jaw with a force that could shatter bone. But, at the very last possible moment he ducked down low with his blade swiping horizontally. If he connected he would hit her shin in an effort to break her good leg. If he missed, he still had plenty of options. 

Yuzuki felt all the air leave her airway for the last time and she gasped in pain, unable to get him to let go until her legs collided with his chest. Unfortunately he’d tried to Shunpo away – he hadn’t entirely gotten out of her trajectory and had therefore been hit in the chest, propelling him through two walls and cracking the third. However, Yuzuki didn’t have the time to savor her satisfaction at the damage she’d caused as she immediately collapsed, clutching at her throat and taking in deep breaths of air. It hurt to breathe at first, her airway burning in the attempt to suck in more oxygen but eventually it got used to it and the only source of pain was from the various scratches he’d left on her neck. As painful as they were, they were nothing compared to the near-crippling pain that ravaged her lower back. 
 
She’d just stood up, slightly dizzy when his weapon once again collided with her leg, this time the good one. Yuzuki let out a scream of pain, louder than she’d had in the past hour. She cursed, feeling the bone crack and then completely shatter underneath her weight. “Fuck you,” She chanted again and again, unable to remain standing any longer. Under the pretense of collapsing from the pain and her broken legs, Yuzuki aimed a last punch towards his abdomen. The pain was excruciating, reverberating up her legs and all the way up her head, in tandem with the pulsing at her temple. Her breathing was uneven and blood was smeared across the ground, mostly from her legs, which were torn up pretty badly. One glance at them told her that her left was cut up so bad that there was a bit of bone protruding. Her right had the large scratch leading up to her upper thigh as well as several other long, deep cuts that continuously bled. It was bent at an awkward angle, tripling the pain when she attempted to move. Her world swam in front of her eyes, coming into focus then blurring away. 
 
Osamu was quite literally nuts; that was what the fight had shown her. He wasn’t entirely okay but that was alright, so was she. Hearing him groan in pain was better than hearing him talk. She almost felt sorry she couldn’t extract more but she knew he was just as damaged as she was. In between uneven breaths, she uttered the one word she never thought she would say, especially to someone like him and in the aftermath of an intense fight. “Thanks.” She whispered, her voice unable to go any higher due to the damage her throat and voicebox had sustained. There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t ache, except for her arms, but her fists sure did hurt like she’d stuck them into the middle of a fire. But it was rejuvenating and liberating, a feeling she hadn’t felt for the past 100 years and she was thankful for it. Osamu instantly went higher up the worthwhile ladder in her eyes; he was a force to be reckoned with, someone Yuzuki could potentially get along with. But it always did depend on her temperament. Now, she only hoped she wouldn’t be berated too harshly for her misconduct.

Osamu looked at her as she fell, almost in slow motion. Her bruised and bloodied form still elegant and majestic as it fell. Her defiant, desperate cursing did not grate his ears. It was like watching a swan even now. Even in this desperate moment, as the world faded away for her she was still fighting and that please Osamu mightily. Here was a woman who would not go quietly into the night, just like him, and whilst they battled different enemies he could not only feel but understand that commonality. Perhaps it was because he was so busy thinking about that, perhaps it was because he was feeling charitable, perhaps it was because his own eyes strained and his bloody seemed sluggish. The world would never know, but for whatever reason he didn’t even move as her last great blow sailed towards his stomach. 
 
Even now the armour barely even mattered, the tremendous force hammered into his abdomen one last time. The shock spread through his system, tearing wider the already open internal damage. The pain was already colossal but her blow was not finished yet. If it ended there he could have stood up, slowly and painfully but he could have stood. Victory would have been his. But the shock was just enough to shake free part of his shattered breast bone, sending it tumbling into one of his lungs. The collective result of all this was for Osamu to bellow out to the sky, inhuman, like the last great dying dinosaur crying for his race. He sank to his knees and as they hit the floor he was jolted into a huge, heavy, hacking cough. He spat forth some of his own blood, a dire sign of his dire situation. It hit the ground with a wet slap, some even landed on Yuzuki. 
 
But that was as nothing compared to what would now land on her. Worn, battered and bloody, with the fight over, Osamu’s torso just gave up. He keeled forward heavily, like a tumbling tree and landed with a great thunk, atop Yuzuki. He lay across her at a right angle, his stomach atop hers, his face in the dirt. There was a heavy silence, their blood gently mixing, their bodies struggling to survive, the warped and faded world, a dull ringing in his ears. But through it all came that crystal clear word. “Thanks.” There was only one thing to say to that. 
“Thank you to.” His voice was as weak and broken as her, struggling to overcome the blood in his throat. But despite the vast pain there was an odd comfort in him now, a satisfaction. He had always wanted to hold Yuzuki in high regard, now he had a reason. True she might be a problem again in the future but that didn’t matter to him now. For now there was just this pure, unadulterated moment. It was good, so good. He could have stayed like this for a very long time were it not for the knowledge that if he did he would die, and so would she. The damage to her legs had cut a major artery, she would bleed to death at this rate and he would drown in his own blood. 

Somewhere at the back of her mind, Yuzuki could hear Osamu’s bellow of pain. The foreign blood now splattered across her skin wasn’t noticed, it was nothing compared to the weight of Osamu’s body on her stomach. As soon as he landed on top of her, all the air she’d managed to suck in left her body and she once again struggled to breathe. Weakly, she attempted to push him off but she didn’t have the strength anymore, her hand falling midway to Osamu’s side. Just then, he got up, somewhat lessening her burden but it didn’t change the fact that she had difficulty breathing. Her eyes wouldn’t focus – Osamu leaning down over her was a blur, a blur she struggled to make out even as she was tossed across his shoulder. The world was swimming, moving along in its own current and failing to take Yuzuki with it, leaving her behind. 
 
It took her nearly half a minute to properly process his words and at first, she didn’t answer. What could she say? ‘You’re bleeding to death, let me walk by myself’? Yuzuki felt like her lower body was on fire, so excruciatingly painful that she couldn’t utter a word, nor could she move. “You… bleeding…don’t die,” She managed to finally say, almost to herself. The last thing she wanted was to drag the man to the brink of death along with her; while she’d enjoyed handing his ass back to him (and nearly getting killed in the process), Yuzuki didn’t see any upsides to Osamu potentially dying. He was someone that genuinely seemed to care, even intentionally provoking her into a fight just so she could let out some steam. Rarely had anyone ever done that for her, not even Akimoto. 
 
He could not allow this to happen, the world needed him to live and he needed her to live. Thankfully his sword arm and legs were still in fine condition. Even now he gripped his trusty weapon like a vice. Twisting his hand slightly he used it as a stick to drag himself up and on to his feet. He almost fell over at once. But he just, just managed to stay upright. Pausing for a moment to cough very, very heavily, blood running from the corner of his mouth, he then turned to Yuzuki. Putting his sword away at his side once more he bent down with a hiss of pain, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her up. He didn’t let her put any more weight on her legs, that could have been fatal, instead he almost threw her up onto his shoulder and held her there. Whilst he did this he explained. 
“You can’t walk. I’m not letting you die. This is the fastest way to the hospital.” It was said as matter of fact statements, not an argument. She could have punched him away if she wanted but she wasn’t getting to the hospital any other way. As she landed on him he let out another desperate grunt of pain, but she was in place now and he could begin to move. 
 
His shunpo was slightly sloppy, unfocused and desperate. Every now and again he was forced to come out of the technique, staggering from side to side and coughing violently. He was almost vomiting blood now instead of simply hacking it up. The man had minutes left, max. But her blood loss put her in the same position. During one particularly bad bout his guards closed in and tried to prize Yuzuki away but his reaction was surprising. With strength and vitriol he barked out. 
“No! You aren’t part of this!” Before fading away and gently muttering. “It’s just us, it’s just us.” Like a mad man in the cold trying to stay warm with fevered imagination. 
 
But eventually the duo arrived at the 4th division, whereupon worried, even panicked shinigami started seeing to them, putting them both up on beds and tending to their wounds with restorative spells, meanwhile higher seats were called in to render assistance. Doctor patient confidentiality meant they should tell no one but Osamu couldn’t be sure of that. However, he had more important things to worry about. There was a small piece of outstanding business that needed taking care of. He almost hated to bring it up but it needed to be said. He needed it settled now.
 
He knew Yuzuki was close, he didn’t quite have the strength to turn his head but he knew she was there, he could hear her breathing, feel her battered yet tremendous power. Reaching out with one hand he pawed at the air, looking for something to latch onto. A hand, a shoulder, an elbow, anything. It didn’t matter so long as it was her. Eventually he would latch onto something. When he did he would say. 
“You can have your division.” There was a few moments of easy silence as he let it sink in, he was smiling. He couldn’t see her but he hoped she was as well. “You can have your division.” He said again, though there were of course caveats. “Image of control must be maintained. 10th division stamps and seals. Tell no one. Multi divisional projects, mine.” He was speaking in broken, bare bones sentences. It was all he could muster. Soon the 4th would work their magic and he would have some strength back but for now he was still weak, the blood not yet purged from his lungs. Short on breath, desperate for air he chose to repeat the most important words he could think of. “You can have your division…. Thank you.” 

Upon arrival at the hospital, Yuzuki was disoriented by the bright lights and the multitude of voices spiraling around her, muddling her already slowing brain. She could see nothing, only the faintest of colors and nothing else. She vaguely felt herself being placed on a bed and the next time she managed to open her eyes, an ominously slow beeping of a heart monitor registered. It took her a while to figure out that it was hers, and that she was slowly dying. But what surprised her was that she had tried to look over to the neighbouring bed, looking for Osamu. The Healers reassured her that he was alright, before leaving Yuzuki to her thoughts again as her legs were attended to. 
 
As if out of a haze, his words made their way across to Yuzuki and into her brain, where she lay for a while trying to make sense of it all. Eventually, she smiled. “You… thank you. Appreciated…” It did seem ironic that they’d had to resort to violence to sort this entire mess out, but it had been so worth it. The smile remained on her face, feeling his hand grip her upper arm, showing her that there was some kind of reality behind the mist that was her mind. The beeping next to her slowed even further, bringing in a dozen Healers who crowded round her and attempted to stabilize her. Nearby, Yuzuki had no doubt the same was going on with Osamu. 
 
Four hours of tedious, non-stop work and Yuzuki was sufficiently healed to manage one night on her own. As night approached, a curtain was hastily erected between the two beds, allowing the nurses to strip Yuzuki of her bloodied uniform and take her to get cleaned up, before dressing her in a clean, loose hospital nightgown. She was more coherent by then and gave the nightgown a rather displeased look, disliking the millions of purple dots scattered across the white material. Honestly, it was ugly, even to Yuzuki who didn’t really have a taste for good colors anyway. Nevertheless, she knew she wasn’t getting out of that one as the curtain was pulled away. Turning her head with a bit of effort, Yuzuki glanced at Osamu’s bed, wondering if he was awake. “Hey. You up?” She spoke quietly, not keen on being heard by the nurses. She wondered whether the Captain had made it out alright, seeing as he’d carried her the entire way there, thereby risking his own life. That thought was enough to quieten Yuzuki a little; whether out of respect or not wanting to disturb him, she didn’t know.

Osamu underwent similar treatment to his new friend though he had to suffer the indignity of having various tubes inserted down his windpipe and throat to suck out the blood, bile and detritus that was a result of the internal damage Yuzuki had so ferociously dealt. Thankfully she was either unconscious or away undergoing her own treatment when he was in this particularly compromising condition. But, just as she was concerned with his wellbeing despite the dire situation, so to was he concerned for hers. For a few horrible moments, whilst they were apart, he thought he might have gone too far and finished her off. The mere idea sent him into a frenzied panic that, due to his weakened state, was thankfully pathetic. He was too beaten and damaged to express much verbally by that stage, just grunts, groans and gritted teeth. But his apprehension was obvious. He was too weak to be safely sedated and so he had to be restrained, tied down to his bed to stop him hurting himself or others in an effort to find Yuzuki and just see her heart monitor pulse. 
 
Some time later, after his own intensive treatment, he was judged to be in a condition similar to Yuzuki. Not fit enough to leave but strong enough to spend a night with little to no supervision. His clothes were as torn, tattered and bloodied as hers and just like her he had to be stripped bear, cleaned and dressed in a gaudy hospital gown. Black, white, brown and red tended to be the colour of his wardrobe, hardly a man known for keeping up with trends and fashions. But he did always look smart. Unconventional yes, but smart with perfectly pressed clothes, boots shone to perfection and not a speck of dirt in sight. These spotty rags were an embarrassment to him, but he accepted their necessity and just kept quiet, occasionally grumbling to himself about it. 
 
By the time the curtain was pulled back he was lying in bed, propped up against the head rest slightly, eyes closed and arms folded lazily across his stomach. When she spoke he was so happy and relieved. She was alive! But at first he didn't let it show, he just opened up the one eye closest to her and said in quiet, but matter of fact tones.
“I’m always up.” He was only speaking quietly because she was speaking quietly, instinctively imitating her even though it was obvious that she was awake and there was no one else in the room to bother. His face was level and humourless but only for a moment before he cracked a broad smile at her and the one eye she could see just lit up. His gladness and relief showing through. 
 
With a grunt of effort, and an “oof” of mild pain when he finished, Osamu forced himself onto his side so he was facing Yuzuki. The man was grinning like a naughty school boy, he seemed genuinely happy. His trade mark sense of humour had survived the encounter unscathed but it seemed a tad brighter now. 
“You will be pleased to learn a mere 65% of my body wants to die. The remaining 35% wants to sit in a corner and cry.” He chuckled slightly at the thought, laughing hurt but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. But after a moment humour was replaced by genuine concern.
“How about you, how are your legs?” Truth be told he was scared about those, his previous effort at humour had been an attempt to reassure Yuzuki and disguise his gnawing fear that he had done something permanent. If he had he would be unable to forgive himself, he couldn’t have broken something like her could he? Not something as robust and hardy as her?

Yuzuki regarded him with a tired look, much too exhausted to sit up. Instead, she lay on her bed in the exact same position she was already in and turned her head further towards him, trying to sort out the faint blurriness that remained. Eventually she made out Osamu’s form, dressed in a similarly hideous nightgown in the bed next to hers. She stifled a snort at the sight and smiled instead, feeling relieved at the fact that he was alright. The nurses hadn’t lied, he was very much alive and kicking next to her. Hearing his response, she exhaled a bit harder in way of laughter; she’d been forbidden from laughing and doing anything to strain her throat and breathing, if the breathing tube across her face was of any indication. She still had trouble breathing but in her personal opinion she’d rather have sounded like a dying whale than wear the tube. 
 
Nevertheless, she smiled and spoke, “Sounds like you need a couple of painkillers.” She said, inwardly laughing to herself. Somehow, painkillers hadn’t been provided despite the both of them having been in immense pain when they’d arrived. Or perhaps Yuzuki had just been too faint to notice anything. She did hope Osamu wasn’t in as much pain as she was, because even someone with her high level of pain tolerance was nearly crippled. It was rare of her to feel concern for someone but the simple fact that Osamu had risked his life for her made her a bit more worried. 
 
 Osamu chuckled slightly at the mention of painkillers. Perhaps it might have been a good idea but he wouldn’t stand for it. So long as it wasn’t necessary to save his life the man rejected such things. Stomaching pain when it wasn’t necessary made you better prepared to deal with it when it was. Besides, pain built character, or so he told himself. As such, Osamu shook his head and said smiling. “No, let me feel it. It improves me.” He gave another, semi amused snort but the convulsive effort forced his chest into momentary spasm, causing him to cough and splutter desperately. It took a minute or two for him to gain control of his lungs again but, once he had mastery over his own organs once more, he just smiled at her.
 
When he asked about her legs, she glanced at them almost as if she didn’t entirely know herself. “They’re numb, I can’t feel anything.” One of the reasons she hadn’t moved was because she simply couldn’t; she was rooted to the spot in a rare show of vulnerability. If one of the nurses decided to kill her, that was it. If Osamu pushed her off the bed, she’d be unable to get up. It was frustrating, being in such a helpless state and it showed on her face as the look of concentration on her face increased, Yuzuki trying her hardest to get her legs to move, all to no avail. 
 
Her confession that she could not feel her own legs however, panicked him. If he was still plugged into a heart monitor she would have seen it spike massively. Had he done something permanent? He hoped not but he couldn’t be sure. He suddenly felt cold and the room felt that much smaller. Surely he couldn’t have… could he? But he kept this bottled up, refusing to show the fear on his face. A good leader maintains a certain image for his men and he was putting this mask on now. Instead he just waved a dismissive hand and said.
“You will be fine. These chaps know what they are doing. You’ll be doing the can can in no time.” The adding in a slightly quieter mumble but intentional loud and clear enough for Yuzuki to hear. “Or kicking me in the jaw.” He cast a wry, lopsided smile at her, a little glint in one of his eyes.

Sighing, she turned back towards Osamu. “How long do we have to stay here for? I don’t like this room.” She was antsy and itching to get out of bed and back to her Division. If her assumptions were correct, Osamu would probably be too. She had studied his file and the man himself for a while, and had come to the conclusion that while their fighting styles were vastly different, their personalities were near identical, minus the poor temper Yuzuki had. So it wasn’t difficult to predict Osamu’s possible thoughts, yet she felt like talking to him rather than facing the long night ahead of them. 

“How long are we going to be here?” He repeated with a shrug that made him wince slightly. “No idea. Certainly at least one day. Maybe two. Perhaps more. But as soon as I can leave without risk of permanent damage to myself I’m out of here. Doesn’t do for a Captain to be laid up that long, and I have work to do. Can’t do it all from a hospital bed.” The man gave a slight sigh and looked up towards the ceiling wistfully. “Thankfully I have built a machine that can cope without me. Run along efficiently. But when I am at the helm I can make her dance. Still, my attention is required on urgent matters elsewhere and I need to be there. It’s the sort of thing that requires a personal presence.” He didn’t make it overtly obvious but he was referring to his need to carefully manage the NDV at this important transitionary stage. “Doubtless you want to be out of here almost as much as me.” He smiled at her and sighed. “Do you have any more heads to crack open now you're back? Or was I the sum total of your list?”

Yuzuki gave him a blank look and said, "You're only at the beginning of a very, very long list. I don't remember my Division being so incompetent last time I was here but here they are, slacking off like the lazy bastards that they are. I can only hope I can beat it out of them." Their conversation continued in that vein before a nurse came in and adjusted Yuzuki's IV bag, adding in a new fluid that after a few minutes, sent Yuzuki straight to sleep.