Under the watchful eyes of Captain Zaraki Kenpachi, Vice-Captain Kusajishi Yachiru, and all the officers of the Eleventh Division, Makoto Ito completed the formal vow to join the team. After receiving his official team insignia, he was now officially a member of the infamous combat squad.
To his surprise, he realized that he was the only one from his graduating class of thirty-three to choose the Eleventh Division.
Then again, it made sense.
Becoming a Soul Reaper was already rare—only a handful were admitted each year—but surviving in the Eleventh Division was another matter entirely. While other squads prided themselves on balance and strategy, the Eleventh lived and breathed combat. The turnover rate was brutal, and many recruits didn't last long.
It was no wonder that most preferred the relative safety of other divisions.
Just as the ceremony was about to conclude—much to Zaraki's impatience—Makoto Ito took a step forward and spoke.
"Captain Zaraki," he said, his voice steady, "I request a challenge against Fourth Seat Ono Tatsuya!"
The moment the words left his mouth, Zaraki's bored expression twisted into a wide grin.
"Finally, something interesting!" he said, laughing. "Alright, take it to the training grounds!"
A ripple of murmurs spread through the gathered officers.
Ono Tatsuya, a large, muscular man with thick limbs and a rugged face, blinked in surprise before letting out a loud, boisterous laugh.
"Ha! The arrogance of a so-called genius!" he sneered. "I love nothing more than crushing the pride of cocky upstarts!"
The surrounding officers—except for Ikkaku Madarame and Yumichika Ayasegawa—burst into laughter, their voices filled with mockery. Even though Makoto had a record of taking down a Hollow of notable strength, none of them had seen it firsthand.
But Makoto remained unfazed.
A true warrior didn't waste energy being provoked.
Eleventh Division Training Grounds
The training grounds were packed.
Word spread fast, and the idea of a rookie immediately challenging a seated officer was too entertaining to ignore. Officers and regular squad members alike gathered, eager to witness the fight.
Standing across from each other, Makoto Ito and Ono Tatsuya readied themselves.
Yachiru, now perched on Zaraki's shoulder, giggled and raised her hand.
"Little Ito! Big Wild Boar! You can start now!"
Ono Tatsuya's eye twitched.
"Vice-Captain, for the last time—my name is Ono Tatsuya, not Big Wild Boar!"
Yachiru stuck out her tongue, making a face. Tatsuya let out an exasperated sigh before shifting his focus back to Makoto.
Makoto bowed slightly in respect.
"Senior Ono, please guide me."
The moment his head dipped, Ono Tatsuya lunged forward.
With surprising speed for his large frame, he kicked off the ground, closing the distance in an instant. His blade gleamed as he brought it down in a powerful, untelegraphed strike aimed straight at Makoto's shoulder.
"Lesson one, kid!" Tatsuya bellowed. "Never let your guard down!"
But Makoto was ready.
At the last possible second, he drew his Zanpakutō and effortlessly blocked the incoming strike. The impact sent a sharp clang ringing through the air, but Makoto didn't flinch.
Tatsuya narrowed his eyes.
"Huh. You've got some skill."
Without missing a beat, he attacked again. Despite his bulk, his strikes were rapid, relentless, and precise. Each slash was aimed to overwhelm and overpower.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Makoto deflected every single attack with minimal movement, his expression calm.
The onlookers murmured in surprise.
For someone who had just joined the squad, Makoto's defensive skills were impressive.
After a series of rapid exchanges, Tatsuya scowled.
"Why are you only defending?" he demanded. "You think you're too good to attack me?"
Makoto remained silent, his grip steady on his sword.
He wasn't just defending.
He was studying Tatsuya's movements.
And soon, it would be his turn to strike.
Makoto Ito remained calm, effortlessly countering each of Ono Tatsuya's attacks. With every clash, it became increasingly clear—Makoto's strength was at least on par with his opponent's, if not greater.
Realizing this, Tatsuya no longer saw him as just an arrogant rookie.
"Since that's the case, Senior Ono, forgive me!" Makoto declared.
With a swift shift in stance, he lunged forward, delivering a series of precise thrusts. Tatsuya managed to block them, but the sheer force behind each strike sent tremors up his arms, leaving his hands numb.
What monstrous strength…!
Tatsuya was shaken. He hadn't expected Makoto to be this powerful. But he wasn't about to become just another stepping stone for some so-called genius. Gritting his teeth, he leaped backward, putting some distance between them.
Then, with a defiant smirk, he tossed his sword into the air.
"Cut him down—Brokenspine Maple!"
The moment he spoke, his Zanpakutō transformed midair, morphing into a massive battle-axe with jagged, serrated edges. The moment it landed in his hands, he surged forward, swinging it down with all his might.
CLANG!
Makoto caught the strike with both hands on his sword, but something was different—he could feel the axe's serrated edges beginning to rotate. As they spun faster and faster, small embers ignited along the blade, crackling with heat.
Tatsuya grinned.
"This is my Zanpakutō, Zayamaru! Every swing is like an explosion! The longer the gears spin, the stronger my attacks get! How do you like it?"
With each clash of blade and axe, sparks flew, lighting up the training ground.
Then, Tatsuya raised his axe high and slammed it down in a devastating arc.
BOOM!
The impact shattered the bluestone floor, leaving a charred crater where Makoto had stood just seconds before.
"All you do is dodge, kid!" Tatsuya taunted. "I heard you already mastered your Shikai back at the Shin'ō Academy. So why don't you stop running and show me what you've got?"
Makoto smirked.
"If you insist, Senior Ono—allow me to demonstrate."
Truthfully, he knew he could win even without his Shikai. But since his opponent had asked, he saw no harm in showing it off. Besides, it would be a good chance to properly test the abilities of his newly awakened Zanpakutō.
Raising his blade, he began his incantation.
"Evil spirits and monsters fill the world. Gods and saints are reduced to dust—Annihilation God!"
A dark golden light flashed across his sword. In an instant, its shape shifted, transforming into a slender, pure-white bone blade.
Tatsuya scoffed.
"That's your Shikai? It's so small and delicate!"
Ignoring the remark, Makoto took his stance.
"Let's see how it holds up," Tatsuya sneered as he swung his axe once more.
"Annihilation God's Gesture—Shock!"
The moment their weapons clashed, a strange force rippled through Tatsuya's body. His chest tightened as though an invisible hand had reached inside him, gripping his heart and squeezing.
His breathing stalled. His limbs trembled.
And then—
CLANG!
A violent shockwave burst through his weapon, sending his axe flying from his grasp.
Gasping for air, Tatsuya collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest. He could barely move. The fight was over.
Makoto calmly stepped forward, resting his blade against Tatsuya's neck.
"I concede," Tatsuya wheezed, still trying to steady his breath.
Makoto nodded, stepping back.
It was done.
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