"Shuuichi-dono!"
The moment Higashino Shuuichi stepped into the 2nd Division's training grounds prepared for the Onmitsukidō, little Soi Fon dashed down from the stands, shouting with excitement.
"It's Shourei!"
Opening his arms, Shuuichi gently pulled the girl into a hug, ruffling her hair with affection.
But inside, something felt off.
Had he somehow taken the place Yoruichi once held in Soi Fon's heart?
Looking at the flushed face nestled against him, Shuuichi realized—it was entirely possible.
Not that it was a bad thing. In fact, this might be even better than his original plan of simply befriending her.
But if things developed this way… could Soi Fon still become captain of the 2nd Division in the future, after Aizen tricked Yoruichi into exile?
Then again, Shuuichi didn't trust the "original plot" anymore. His butterfly wings had been flapping too long, too early. Who could say what the future held?
Luckily, whatever happened in Soul Society probably wouldn't affect the Human World too much—especially not the remnants of the Quincy.
So long as, when the time came, Isshin Kurosaki went to the Human World, Yhwach could still be stopped… right?
His thoughts scattered, but Soi Fon's soft little voice calling "Shuuichi-dono" snapped him back.
"You can put me down now, Shuuichi-dono. Lady Yoruichi is still waiting."
"Ah! I nearly forgot. Sorry, Shourei."
He set her down, embarrassed.
Though he had to admit—the soft, delicate feel of her was just as satisfying in its own way as Yoruichi's firm, springy embrace.
"It's alright, Shuuichi-dono," Soi Fon lowered her head, then suddenly looked up with those clear, shining eyes. "One day, I'll become a Shinigami as strong as you!"
Shuuichi almost asked, *"And what about your Lady Yoruichi?"* But instead, he only gave a soft hum, "Mm\~."
On the other side, Yoruichi, unable to stomach their sappy display any longer, tossed him a set of protective gear.
"Catch!"
He snatched it from the air. Behind him, Soi Fon quickly retreated back to the stands.
And in the corner of his vision, he noticed the Onmitsukidō trainees who had been practicing hakuda sparring had already vacated the grounds.
Clearly, Yoruichi had cleared the field for this.
This time, she wasn't joking—she meant to fight him seriously.
"Before we start, may I ask, Captain Shihōin, are there any rules?"
He adjusted the armor as he spoke.
"No zanpakutō. Other than that—no restrictions."
She finished her warm-up, answering coolly.
"No… zanpakutō?"
His hand brushed the hilt at his waist, thoughts racing.
From start to finish, Shuuichi knew one truth: people like Unohana, Yoruichi, Aizen—Soul Society's great schemers—never did anything meaningless.
A simple spar? Worthless. But if it were for something else—say, an assessment?
He knew Yoruichi held a hidden art, one rivaling a bankai.
And it required mastery of kidō, shunpo, and hakuda.
"If that's what this is about, then I'm wide awake now."
His heart blazed.
In a world where individual might could surpass all else, Shuuichi knew he didn't need the will to destroy the world—but he *did* need the power to. Only then could he live as he wished, without fear of being cut down by some looming boss.
Maybe his talent wasn't enough to master Yoruichi's secret art. But it was worth hungering for.
People needed dreams. Who knew? Maybe one day he *could* learn it.
With that dream, his eyes sharpened, his lazy air burned away, replaced by blazing spirit.
"Then, Captain Shihōin—don't blame me for being impolite. I'll strike first!"
He unstrapped his zanpakutō and tossed it toward Soi Fon, leaving a flickering afterimage where he'd stood.
"Shatterbone!"
His fist shot forward—Yoruichi countered perfectly, their knuckles clashing less than half a meter apart.
The impact forced her back ten steps.
Shuuichi didn't waste the opening. Never giving an enemy room to breathe—that was his creed.
His fist became a finger. Sparks crackled.
"Hadō No. 4: Byakurai (White Lightning)!"
"You didn't pick a higher-level kidō?"
Seeing his choice, Yoruichi smiled.
It showed he grasped the essence of kidō. Higher numbers weren't always better. Sometimes the simplest spells had the greatest effect.
And even the weakest kidō, fueled with enough reiryoku, could be devastating.
Like now—Byakurai was swift, efficient, consuming almost no energy. Perfect for seamless pursuit.
Because Yoruichi had chosen to take his Shatterbone head-on, she had no chance to dodge the Byakurai that followed—unless she'd shielded herself with kidō at the same time.
She hadn't. So sparks danced across her skin.
Paralysis—the side effect of Byakurai.
The reiryoku gap meant it barely affected her, and the spell was too low-level to bind her movements.
"But you never meant for it to, did you?"
She thought to herself, gazing at him.
"Tsunzuki (One Inch Punch)! Byakurai!"
He answered with action, combining the thrust of his finger strike with another lightning bolt.
Sparks leapt over her once more.
"So that's it… your goal is to dull my shunpo until you can keep up!"
This time, Yoruichi said it aloud.
Her answer came only in the burning fire of Shuuichi's eyes.
//Check out my Patreon for 20 extra chapters on all my fanfics //[[email protected]/Razeil0810](http://[email protected]/Razeil0810)