As they walked, the two chatted idly, occasionally playfully bickering, until they finally reached the end of the street.
The woman on Masatsuki Aozaki's back carried a faint, pleasant fragrance, and his arm was supporting her in a rather compromising position. If he turned his head even slightly, his lips could easily brush against her cheek.
But right now, none of that was on his mind.
Something was wrong.
The street was too quiet—unnaturally so.
This was Seireitei, the heart of Soul Society. Even in its most secluded alleys, there should be at least some trace of life.
"Something's off…" Masatsuki sniffed the air, catching a familiar scent.
Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Without a word, they flickered onto a nearby rooftop.
Masatsuki focused, sensing the telltale signs of a battle—the clash of Reiatsu, the raw intensity of life-and-death combat.
"That's…"
Both of them widened their eyes as the battlefield came into view. The reflection of clashing forces burned vividly in their pupils.
...
"You actually noticed me? And you even managed to block my sneak attack. Impressive—worthy of a true heir of the Kuchiki Clan."
A man stepped out from the ranks of the rebel forces.
He wore tattered rebel attire, his short black hair messy and wild. A bloodthirsty grin stretched across his face as he gripped a Zanpakutō, its blade still slick with fresh blood.
His gaze locked onto the refined man standing before him, and he spoke slowly.
"Sōjun Kuchiki. My name is Sazanosuke Takasugi. Remember it well—because I'm the one who's going to kill you."
With that, he flicked his bloodstained blade, his Reiatsu surging to its full strength.
A Captain-level opponent—Third-Class Reiatsu!
Sōjun Kuchiki stiffened, lifting his wounded right hand to grip his crimson-streaked Zanpakutō.
What was supposed to be a routine mission to suppress a minor rebellion had suddenly taken a much darker turn. From the way Sazanosuke spoke, it was clear this wasn't a coincidence—he was here for Sōjun specifically.
Moreover, he had deliberately concealed his Reiatsu among the rebels and launched an ambush with skill far beyond that of an ordinary Shinigami.
"Kill them!" someone in the rebel ranks shouted.
The battlefield erupted into chaos.
The deafening clash of blades, the scrape of steel against steel, the shouts of warriors, the howling wind, the pounding rain—all of it blended into a cacophony, like a mournful elegy echoing through the storm.
That sorrowful melody carried an eerie pull, driving those caught in its rhythm to fight with reckless abandon.
...
"Burn to ashes, Onienmaru!"
The moment the release command was spoken, Sanosuke's Zanpakutō flared with light, its shape shifting.
The katana elongated into a massive naginata, flames blooming from its guard like crimson cherry blossoms.
...
"That Sōjun Kuchiki guy is too weakened right now. He can handle regular rebels, but against a Captain-level opponent, he's in real danger," Yoruichi Shihōin said to Masatsuki. "We're going in."
Not waiting for a response, she flashed forward, diving straight into the battle.
Masatsuki hesitated for only a moment before nodding firmly.
Just as he was about to move, something caught his eye.
"Watch out!"
In a heartbeat, he was at Yoruichi's side, wrapping an arm around her waist while raising Banshō Senran with his left hand.
CLANG!
A massive shuriken struck against Banshō Senran, sending a cascade of sparks scattering into the night.
Masatsuki barely managed to deflect the projectile, but the force sent him skidding back several meters. He staggered slightly before regaining his footing.
"Another Captain-level opponent," Yoruichi muttered, her pupils contracting. The moment Masatsuki released her, she landed smoothly and drew the short blade from her waist.
That Reiatsu burst just now—it wasn't a mistake. There was another Captain-level Shinigami hidden among the rebels.
She hadn't expected this at all. A rebellion of this scale concealing not just one, but two Captain-level fighters? Even the Gotei 13's suppression squads didn't come this well-equipped.
From above, a man with long black hair and tattered clothing leaped into the air, catching the shuriken he had thrown.
"Huh?" His eyes flickered with surprise as he realized his attack had been blocked.
"Interesting. So this is the so-called genius? You actually managed to block my strike…"
As he descended, the long-haired man adjusted his aim and flung his shuriken forward.
Clearly, his target wasn't Masatsuki Aozaki—he had no interest in him. His true objective was…
Sōjun Kuchiki.
That last attack wasn't meant to kill Yoruichi Shihōin; it was to prevent her from aiding Sōjun.
...
"Reflect, Banshō Senran!"
Masatsuki swung his blade, releasing its Shikai in an instant. A crescent-shaped wave of sword pressure shot out.
At the same moment, Yoruichi had already moved ahead of the incoming shuriken. She raised her leg and kicked it.
The sheer force of her Reiatsu combined with the penetrating power of the strike sent a deafening shockwave through the air.
"Tch, Yoruichi Shihōin… What a hassle."
Faced with both her kick and Masatsuki's sword pressure, the long-haired man sighed in resignation.
The violent wind from their attacks sent his hair whipping around. The tip of the sword pressure was closing in rapidly, the piercing sound ringing in his ears. And yet, his face remained completely calm.
A second later, his figure vanished.
...
The sharp crescent of energy sliced clean through the space where he had stood—splitting a nearby rebel soldier in half instead.
Meanwhile, Yoruichi's kick sent the massive shuriken hurtling backward.
In a bizarre arc, the weapon spun through the air—straight back into the hands of its owner, who had reappeared.
The long-haired man's pupils contracted.
No matter how much force he exerted, his shuriken, an extension of his very soul, refused to move an inch in his grip.
Looking up, he saw her.
The violet-haired woman had closed the distance without him realizing it. Her shoulders pulsed with highly compressed Reiatsu, crackling like lightning. And her seemingly slender hand, gripping his shuriken, was as unshakable as an iron vice.
"Not much of a close-combat fighter, are you? That just so happens to be my specialty," Yoruichi remarked coolly.
...
"A fellow Captain-level? Impossible!!"
The long-haired man let out a furious, almost hysterical roar. Rather than struggle for control of his weapon, he abandoned it entirely.
A burst of dazzling Reiatsu erupted from his limbs as he lashed out at Yoruichi with a wild strike.
...
"Idiot."
Masatsuki sneered and charged forward.
Even among Captains, there were levels of strength—and this man's Reiatsu was clearly weaker than Yoruichi's.
Not only that, but he was attempting hand-to-hand combat against someone in Shunkō.
That was nothing short of suicide.
...
His flurry of punches was effortlessly blocked.
But Yoruichi's fists? He couldn't stop a single one.
Within seconds, his body was covered in bruises and cuts, his breath ragged.
Panic flickered across his face.
His Hakuda—completely overwhelmed?!
Before he could react, Yoruichi disappeared from sight.
So fast!
A powerful gust exploded beside him, and his spine tingled with dread.
Teeth clenched, he spun his shuriken again, trying to bring it up in defense.
...
Midair, Yoruichi shot a glance toward Masatsuki.
Masatsuki instantly understood.
His Reiatsu surged—electric currents crackling around him, resonating with Yoruichi's own.
Zzt—!
A flash of white lightning. A gleam of steel.
Before he could fully register what was happening, his vision blurred.
And then—
Slash!
Two blades, one white and one flickering with lightning, struck his arms in perfect synchrony.
...
For a brief moment, he didn't even feel pain.
But the speed—!
Terror overtook his features. This… this was not the speed of a Lieutenant-level Shinigami!
In the next instant, both of his arms were severed.
Blood sprayed in arcs through the air.
Masatsuki and Yoruichi didn't stop. With swift, fluid motions, they turned and dashed forward, blades flashing once more.
By the time they came to a steady halt—
Blood poured from the long-haired man's body.
...
"Damn it!! This is impossible!!"
He collapsed to the ground, screaming in rage.
"My Reiatsu is Captain-level! I was supposed to be a noble!!"
Yoruichi and Masatsuki sighed.
Another so-called genius, lured by false promises.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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