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Darkness slowly enveloped the surrounding landscape as countless blades, shaped like cherry blossoms, hovered in the air. They circled in seamless arcs, layer upon layer, surrounding the two figures at the center of the storm.
"Wow…" Staring at the pink-hued blades suspended in the sky, Su Li blinked, visibly awestruck, and a soft murmur of admiration escaped his lips.
"Do you like the view?" Byakuya Kuchiki's voice cut through the quiet, calm and indifferent.
"It's beautiful," Su Li replied, nodding with his eyes shimmering.
Byakuya's gaze hardened. That Su Li was admiring the scene like a spectator irritated him, and without a word, he raised his hand. A single petal-blade dropped and fell into his open palm, and with a sharp motion, he slashed toward Su Li, the strike cutting through the air like lightning.
Su Li, unfazed, lifted his hand almost lazily. A sharp clack echoed as he caught the blade mid-swing, fingers closing around it effortlessly. With a slight squeeze, the weapon crumbled into a flurry of harmless cherry blossoms that drifted down like spring snow.
Byakuya's pupils narrowed as in a flash, he retreated several steps. Su Li lowered his hand, scanning the sea of floating petals with a faint, admiring smile.
"As expected of the most elegant Zanpakutō…" he murmured, tilting his head. "Wonder if Eggy'll ever look this majestic someday…" There was unmistakable wistfulness in his tone.
Byakuya stared at him, eyes cold. "What are you muttering about?"
Su Li rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Haha, nothing important. Let's keep going."
Byakuya didn't move, his expression hardening. "Why haven't you drawn your sword?" His voice was cold. "Do you look down on me?"
Su Li smiled, unbothered. "Sorry. I don't plan on using a sword."
"I don't fight unarmed opponents," Byakuya stated flatly. "Draw your Zanpakutō and fight me."
Su Li blinked, then seemed to understand. Byakuya, shaken by his earlier technique, now wanted to test him in the purest form of combat—through swordsmanship. But Su Li couldn't allow that. His sword must not be used lightly. Not yet. He had made a pact with it, and he wouldn't disturb it unless absolutely necessary.
Seeing Su Li make no move to draw his blade, Byakuya's face darkened. "Rebel," he said sharply. "Draw your Zanpakutō."
Su Li's smile widened, amused by how Byakuya, the proud and aloof Kuchiki, could actually get flustered. "I really don't want to."
"Draw."
"Nope."
A strange tension lingered between them as an awkward silence stretched on. Their expressions tightened, and something felt off about this conversation.
Eventually, Byakuya exhaled, returning to his usual composed self. "I told you. I do not cross blades with an unarmed opponent. Swords should meet in battle. It's the bare minimum respect owed between warriors." Despite his pride, he was now reasoning with Su Li, trying to uphold the dignity of a proper duel.
Su Li sighed softly. "Sorry, Dabai. There's a… problem with my Zanpakutō. I can only use it once per day." He offered a half-truth, a lie meant to cover his real reasoning.
Byakuya paused, visibly unsettled. He didn't even react to the nickname Su Li used for him, but he believed him. At least, he believed the regret in Su Li's voice. He knew Su Li wasn't bluffing.
"…So be it," Byakuya muttered, his disappointment palpable, and the words disjointed. Yet his resolve returned quickly. If they couldn't fight blade to blade, then he would strike in full force.
He reached forward, and a new blade of Sakura formed in his hand. Without a word, Byakuya vanished, reappearing in a blur, slashing down with fluid precision.
Su Li didn't flinch. Only when the blade neared did he move, lifting a single finger. A light tap—and the blade burst into petals once more.
Byakuya's eyes narrowed. In a seamless motion, he formed a hand seal. "Bakudō 61. Six Rods Light Restraint." The six rods of golden light slammed into place around Su Li, locking his limbs in place.
Su Li raised an eyebrow, impressed. This version of the technique was stronger than what Shihouin Yoruichi or even Urahara Kisuke could summon—despite being a broken chant.
Byakuya didn't pause. With swift precision, he followed up with another incantation. "Hadō 33. Sōkatsui!" A massive fireball erupted from his hand, surging toward Su Li with devastating speed. Back-to-back Kidō. Broken chants. Perfect execution. Byakuya's mastery was evident.
But his opponent was Su Li. The light prison shattered like glass. Su Li reached up, hand open. With a casual gesture, he caught the fireball.
Boom. The inferno burst apart in his palm, and the shockwave rumbled across the landscape. As the smoke cleared, Su Li clapped his hands together lightly, unscathed.
Byakuya clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. He had expected Su Li to be strong, but this—this wasn't strength. It was monstrous. Nothing he had landed had penetrated. Speed, force, technique—all of it dissolved against him. The gap was too great.
Is this... even still a fight? For a fleeting second, the weight of powerlessness crept into Byakuya's heart.
No. Not yet. If nothing else, he would show his final trump card.
He took a step forward. Boom. White Reiatsu erupted from him, surging into the sky like a geyser of light. In that moment, his spiritual pressure multiplied.
Su Li watched with his hands behind his back, silent.
"This technique… is my strongest," Byakuya's eyes were focused, calm, and intense, the expression of a man with no more doubts. "Until now, only one person survived it. You will be the second."
Su Li's smile remained. He knew exactly who Byakuya meant.
Byakuya inhaled. The air thickened. Behind him, two white wings of spirit particles unfolded like divine armor. His hands gripped the hilt of his sword, now glowing white-hot. A sharp stillness settled over the battlefield.
"I learned this from your sword technique. Now I'll return the lesson." Byakuya raised his blade. "Final Scene—White Emperor Sword."
The world turned white. In the blink of an eye, Byakuya vanished. Reappearing before Su Li with unprecedented speed, he brought the blade down.
BOOM. Reiatsu exploded. Light swallowed everything.
Elsewhere, Chōjirō Sasakibe's eyes widened as he felt the pressure from afar and immediately launched into a Shunpo sprint. Higher up the mountain trail, Ishida Uryū, Orihime Inoue, and the others came to a sudden stop. They looked up, faces pale, eyes locked on the mountain top. The peak of Sōkyoku Hill glowed brighter than the sun, an entire world consumed by white. None of them could comprehend what was happening.
Eventually, the light receded. Uryū and the others rushed toward the hill. When they arrived, they were met with a surreal sight. A massive scar cut across the battlefield—ten meters wide and stretching hundreds more. The wound was smooth and precise, as though carved by a divine blade.
Chōjirō appeared moments later, his expression grim. Had he been a second slower, he would've died.
All eyes turned to the end of the crack. Byakuya stood, pale and panting. And in front of him, Su Li. Holding the blade. Between two fingers.
Gasps broke the silence. That attack—an all-consuming strike, fast and absolute—had been stopped effortlessly. No defense. No counterattack. Just two fingers.
Chōjirō trembled. "This boy… his strength… he's no longer below Captain-Commander Yamamoto."
Before anyone could speak, Orihime's voice broke the quiet. "Eh? Why does he look… weird?"
Everyone blinked, then noticed the strange positioning of Su Li's hand. The blade was held not between index and middle finger—but between thumb and index. Crossed slightly, as if the sword were nothing but a twig balanced between sticks.
Su Li's voice drifted through the wind.
Byakuya looked up, blood in his throat, words on his lips.
"Have you ever heard… of Bixin?"
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