The chill of early spring still clung to Soul Society. Up in the stands, Shourei hugged a zanpakutō as tall as she was, her breath spilling out in pale white puffs.
"Shuuichi-dono…"
Down in the arena, Yoruichi and Higashino Shuuichi had reached a fever pitch.
Pinned by Shuuichi's clever little tricks, Yoruichi's shunpo was briefly blunted. Pleased by the opening, she met him with a pure, bone-on-bone hakuda exchange rather than forcing her way free.
Even so, the gap in strength remained. Shuuichi's battle experience was nowhere near Yoruichi's. Though she kept herself in check, the tide slowly turned in her favor.
As a member of the Executive Militia under the 2nd Division, Shourei should have been cheering for her captain. Yet every time Yoruichi struck Shuuichi—every time he was driven back—her hands tightened around the sword in her arms, and she prayed for him in silence.
Boom!
Yoruichi's kick sent Shuuichi skidding into the wall; stone spider-webbed and chips flew.
"Shuuichi-dono!"
Her cry drew sidelong looks from nearby operatives. On any other day, Shourei would have glared back. Today, all her thoughts were with him.
As if hearing her, Shuuichi—nearly embedded in the wall—gritted his teeth. Reiryoku surged in his palms; he cycled kaidō to drag himself back to barely mobile.
"…Combine, rebound, extend to the earth—know your powerlessness! Hadō no 90, Kurohitsugi (Black Coffin)!"
Yoruichi, about to close in and crush his resistance, blinked. "When did you finish the incan—"
Before "chant" could leave her lips, a giant, lightless coffin erupted beneath her feet, swallowing her whole. Cross-shaped monoliths stabbed from all sides, and a heavy pressure clamped down over the entire training field.
"Cough… while I was still flying from that kick I didn't see coming," Shuuichi said, hands braced on the wall as he wrenched himself free. He hit the ground unsteadily.
That kick had been brutal. For a beat he thought Yoruichi meant to kill him. Only years of hard-earned kaidō kept him in the fight at all.
But that same kick had finally lit his fuse.
He'd thought Yoruichi would hold back because he only *looked* vice-captain level on the surface. It seemed she planned to beat him within an inch of his life—short of actually killing him.
Then he'd have to dial up the heat too.
Rationally? Useless. Even at full power he'd only get mauled harder. But today, for some reason, he really didn't want to lose.
"At least… I won't lose *ugly*."
He spat blood to the side and glanced up at the stands—at Shourei, clutching his zanpakutō, watching him with anxious eyes.
"So that's where this stupid stubbornness is coming from."
He laughed at himself.
*So this is what it feels like to be someone's idol.*
A crack split the coffin from crown to base.
A heartbeat later, Kurohitsugi shattered, revealing Yoruichi, skin flashing in the broken dark.
She didn't care about modesty. She was *thrilled*—that he'd managed a full chant Kurohitsugi mid-flight and caught her off-guard.
"Hahaha—Higashino Shuuichi! You're interesting!"
"Maybe I'm not done being interesting."
He wasn't surprised she'd torn free so fast. Their reiryoku gulf was too wide. To truly threaten Yoruichi with Kurohitsugi, he'd need pressure closer to hers.
"Bakudō no 21, Sekienton (Red Smoke Escape)!"
A thick smoke burst from beneath his feet, swelling outward. In under two seconds it swallowed the whole field.
If he couldn't win head-on, he'd blind them both.
"It's no use, Shuuichi!" Yoruichi's voice slid in from behind. "Raiōken (Thunder King Fist)!"
Eyes weren't necessary. Any Shinigami worth the title could read reiryoku.
A flurry of fists tore through the smoke, each blow hammering solidly into Shuuichi.
"…Hmm?"
Something was off. From earlier exchanges, she knew he wasn't the sort to turtle. Yet he was *taking* it? Docile?
"Bakudō no 8, Seki (Repulse)?"
Through the haze she glimpsed a thin spiritual shield coating his hands. Under the storm of her punches, the fragile film quivered on the edge of collapse.
This couldn't be his endgame.
She knew she hadn't seen his play yet. Whatever it was, a few more blows would shatter the shield and force it out.
He moved first.
Thick, serpentine reiryoku chains snapped along his forearms, latching onto Yoruichi's wrists the instant her fists landed.
"Bakudō no 63, Sajō Sabaku (Locking Bondage Stripes)!"
"That won't hold me!"
A chill pricked her spine anyway. She flared captain-class pressure; the fresh-latched chains began to crack.
"How about this! Bakudō no 75, Gochūtekkan (Five Pillars of Iron)!"
High overhead—already coiled in the smoke—five colossal iron pillars dropped as he yanked the last strength from his chains to *pull them together*—her and him, chest to chest.
"And this! Bakudō no 79, Kuyō Shibari (Nine Sun Bindings)!"
At breath-stealing distance—mist from his lips pattering on her cheek—nine void-black seals bloomed, locking them both in place.
"Pointless. I just need to—"
She stopped holding back, captain's reiryoku surging to smash through his layered binds.
Too late.
The five pillars slammed down, pinning them to the stone. Shuuichi pressed against her, eyes burning with a last, reckless light.
"Hands beyond reach of the silent dark, archer of the sky none can mirror—on the path where radiance falls, winds that fan the spark—assemble without doubt and heed my command; light-shells eightfold, nine threads, scripture of heaven, swift treasures, great wheel—O ash-gray turret, draw the bow afar and vanish in argent purity—Hadō no 91, Senju Kōten Taihō (Thousand-Hand Bright Heavenly Punishment Cannon)!"
Lances of light cascaded down the pillars.
The blast shook the entire 2nd Division grounds.
(End)
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