No one had expected that Qin'yue—the one captured when his cover was blown and whose mind had been corroded by a Bakkōtō (Parasitic Zanpakutō) by Gyoukaku—would still be alive.
Or rather, the fact that he had entered the First Division and been chosen by Genryūsai to infiltrate the Kasumiooji already said enough about his talent.
As Qin'yue's son, Shūsuke had always taken his father as a model—his pride.
So why… had Father become like this?
"It's me, Shūsuke! Father!"
Shūsuke stood adrift.
Perhaps it was a thread between father and son that drew Qin'yue away from the proper Shinigami to come here alone.
But he had no reason left. The Bakkōtō in his hand did not hesitate.
"Shūsuke!"
Seeing Shūsuke frozen—the first, and only, person to show him kindness since he'd entered Seireitei—Gin reacted on instinct. With his Asauchi (blank Zanpakutō) he completed in a heartbeat what might take other Shinigami years, decades, even centuries.
He and the blade aligned.
"Ikorose, Shinsō! (Shoot to kill, Shinsō!)"
The blade snapped to full length in an instant. A sudden shock met the tip of Qin'yue's blade just as it was about to cleave down on Shūsuke's head, flicking Qin'yue up into the air.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh…
After the strike, Gin's vision swam—his body hadn't yet adapted to so much Reiatsu being pulled at once.
"Why…?"
Shūsuke stared up, stunned. He could scarcely believe it.
If not for Gin's cover just now, he really might have been killed—by his own father.
His greatest pride.
"We should go, Shūsuke. We can't beat him!"
Gin knew his hit had only landed because it was a sneak attack. As they were now, neither he nor Shūsuke could stand against that berserk Shinigami—
Even if that Shinigami might be Shūsuke's father.
Boom!
As Gin turned to pull out—unwilling to stay and die with Shūsuke—a scorching beam skimmed his hair, and the street before them blew open into a crater.
"Cero (Hollow Flash)…"
A power Gin knew by heart.
Why did a Shinigami have a Hollow's move?
No time to think—I cannot die here!
In a blink, Gin pivoted and raised his only weapon toward Qin'yue in midair.
"Ikorose, Shinsō!"
White light leapt, dragging a galaxy across the sky.
But Qin'yue wouldn't be caught by an attack of this level again.
Even if Gin was a once-in-centuries prodigy, right now he had only just taken an Asauchi—he wasn't even a proper Shinigami yet.
Their Reiatsu differed in kind—a chasm that couldn't be crossed.
"Bakudō no 39: Enkōsen (Round Lock Fan)!"
On muscle memory alone, a circular reishi shield unfurled and caught Gin's strike.
Qin'yue then dropped like a guillotine, target locked on the boy below.
And at last, Shūsuke woke to the truth: the man before him was no longer the father in his memories—he was an enemy he had to face now.
"O sovereign! O mask of flesh and blood—things of the world—wings that beat—things that bear the name of man! Scorch—"
Unlike other students at Shin'ō Academy, Shūsuke had studied some Kidō at home in advance.
What he tried to chant now was the strongest he knew: Hadō no 31: Shakkahō (Red Fire Cannon).
But real combat isn't animation; chances to finish a full chant are rare.
Worse, Shūsuke's chanting speed wasn't fast.
That Bakkōtō—reeking of terror and darkness—was already at hand, and Shūsuke had only gotten halfway through.
"Ikorose, Shinsō!"
From afar, Gin's unwilling strike—he knew if Shūsuke fell, he was next.
But even that couldn't break the Enkōsen shimmering around Qin'yue.
Am I… going to die? Killed by my own father?
Shūsuke's eyes widened. In Qin'yue's unfocused gaze above, he thought he saw two dried tracks of tears.
So Father… didn't want this either…
A ragged smile cut across Shūsuke's face. His chanting stopped.
And then, arcs of lightning flickered into being in the air.
"Did your teachers never tell you…"
A fingertip entered Shūsuke's field of view and tapped lightly left. The haughty Enkōsen popped like a bubble.
"…students shouldn't sneak out at night?"
A tall back followed—short jet-black hair, pitch-black shihakushō, and in his right hand a dark-green Zanpakutō that stood out under the night sky.
"Bakudō no 62: Hyappō Rankan (Hundred Steps Fence), Ice Pattern!"
The dancing arcs of lightning froze into white crystals. The plunging Bakkōtō would have reached Shūsuke—but its wielder's body was pinned backward by one reishi rod after another, and the meal slipped away again.
"Shinigami-sama…"
Shūsuke stammered, staring at the Shinigami who had appeared and saved him.
In the distance, Gin's heart churned.
He knew that man: Shuuichi—the vice-captain who'd saved Rangiku ten years ago.
"Star-scattered beast bones; spires, crimson crystal, wheels of steel; movement is wind—"
Facing the momentarily bound Qin'yue, Shuuichi began to chant Hadō on purpose.
As expected—
"Please, no! Shinigami-sama! That's my father—he's a member of the First Division! There must be a reason he became like this! Please, you have to save him!"
Shūsuke rushed in front of Shuuichi, arms spread, pleading.
"Your father…?"
A wry look crossed Shuuichi's face.
He'd already known once a reishi construct had stumbled on the scene—and by matching it to the story he remembered, he'd guessed this Shūsuke might well be the one who, to avenge his father, would change his name and grow step by step into captain class, eventually taking over as the Third Division's captain—Shūsuke Amagai.
Conveniently, Shuuichi did lack a reliable hand to keep and wield the Bakkōtō Raika for him.
He could have ordered a construct to save Shūsuke the moment Gin first used Shinsō.
But he didn't. He waited until both Gin and Shūsuke had exhausted their options before stepping in himself.
The benefit: Shūsuke's goodwill skyrocketed—+10 +10 +10.
And Gin's… +1 +1.
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