Time rolled back to the moment Higashino Shuuichi finished setting the barrier and took that single cut that sheared the cross from the cathedral spire.
After personally watching the wounded Shiba Kaien lead Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika out of Osaka Prefecture—and sensing no abnormal reiatsu around them—the former 3rd Division vice-captain of the Gotei 13, Yokozawada Tsuna, finally showed himself.
"Shinigami from Soul Society, you came all this way just to chase me to the Human World, and now you plan to slink off with your tails between your legs? Don't you think too highly of yourselves?"
Yokozawada Tsuna blocked their way with an arrogant grin.
"Yokozawada Tsuna… we hadn't gone looking for you, and yet you deliver yourself?" Shiba Kaien drew his Zanpakutō. Though his wounds hadn't closed, it didn't stop the surge of his fighting spirit.
"Hahaha—you're Shiba Kaien, right? I hear you're the next head of the Shiba family? If you die here, what do you think Soul Society will say?"
Yokozawada Tsuna pointed his blade at Kaien without a shred of fear.
Ikkaku snorted, answered for them, and introduced himself the only way he knew how. "Cut the crap, Yokozawada Tsuna. Take one from your grand-uncle Madarame Ikkaku!"
He leapt high and chopped straight down—clean, direct, pure Ikkaku.
Tsuna was even cleaner. With Nikuramamaru released, a massive fist of condensed reiatsu exploded forward and swatted Ikkaku—blade and all—out of the air.
The gulf in reiatsu couldn't be bridged by spirit alone.
"One punch!" Yumichika saw it and knew his swordplay wouldn't be enough. Much as he hated it, he lifted his voice in chant:
"Ruler who reigns! Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings—named in the world of man! Heat and strife—across the sea, roll south—advance! Hadō #31: Shakkahō (Red Fire Cannon)!"
Unlike most Eleventh-Division meatheads, Yumichika actually had rare talent for Kidō. As a third-year at the Shin'ō Academy he'd been a special case, assigned to the Eleventh; now he could fully chant and cast Hadō #31.
Reality taught him the creed's cruelty: battles between Shinigami are battles of reiatsu.
What use was talent without fuel? His Shakkahō was a candle flicker; Tsuna batted it flat—then sent the same giant fist to blast Yumichika away like he did Ikkaku.
Only after both men were down did Kaien grind his pain under heel, forcing reishi to circulate again through flesh gnawed by a Fullbringer's lingering flame.
"Turn the skies of water back upon themselves—Nejibana!"
His Zanpakutō became a trident like Poseidon's, the base a spiraled cone. Water flowers spattered the air around him.
It looked good. Tsuna's smile said otherwise.
The Fullbringer who had burned Kaien's spirit pathways still lived, and the larval flame would keep chewing on him—stopping the flow. Tsuna knew Kaien was a painted shell.
"Eat my fist!"
He swung the giant knuckled weight down. Just as Kaien tried to move reiryoku, the wound-flame flared like a prairie fire. Pain bit deep. The trident snapped back into an Asauchi-like shape.
Blood sprayed.
Kaien was still tougher than Ikkaku and Yumichika. With his blade braced he didn't fly—but he didn't look much better.
"Hahahaha! So the next head of a Great Noble House is this weak? That title needs a new owner. I, Yokozawada Tsuna, would do nicely!"
Riding the high, he planted, sprang skyward, and brought down a final, crushing fist.
A human woman darted in from nowhere, skidding in front of Kaien. She pressed a hand to the pendant at her collarbone.
"Shinsō: Rengyoku (Divine Aspect: Lotus Jewel)!"
A lotus with three petals shimmered under her feet—and under Tsuna's.
"Hero to the rescue? Then die together!"
Drunk on advantage, Tsuna didn't slow the punch in the slightest.
It never reached them. His fist shrank like a punctured bladder, collapsing back to ordinary size before the blow landed.
"What… Fullbringer? Impossible! The Fullbringers in Osaka are all—"
The word died. Tsuna's hot brain cooled fast.
Ask Tsuna what he'd learned living among Fullbringers this long, he'd have one answer:
"They're monsters."
Not in mind—by power. Low reiatsu; broken abilities. The "elites" gathered here for Osaka were the monsters among monsters. Any one of them would be trouble for a former 3rd Division vice-captain—never mind the few at the very top, the ones who had come fully intent on beating—or killing—Captains.
And this woman? He didn't want to know.
His swagger vanished. He whipped his gaze to a rooftop silhouette. "Yuki Seisui! Hel—"
Before the "—p" came, the woman—Nagasawa Satomi—spoke again.
"Shinsō: Ren'o (Divine Aspect: Lotus Mire)!"
One petal withered beneath each of their feet. Black sludge climbed Tsuna's legs from the void, swallowed him head to toe, then—despite his thrashing—shrunk, slumped, and sank back into nothing.
"Who are you? Why save me?" Kaien propped himself on his blade, staring at the sudden savior, puzzled.
"Nagasawa Satomi. Shuuichi-dono sent me."
She didn't look back. Her eyes fixed on a new arrival: a man in full black shinobi gear, flipping a metal forehead protector in one hand, a katana on his back, walking toward them under a spreading pressure.
"You're Yuki Seisui?"
She'd heard Tsuna's last shout. She'd sat in Higashino Shuuichi's war council and knew what that name meant: one of the last Fullbringers still in Osaka.
"Shinsō: Rengyoku—I've heard of you," the shinobi said. "We meant to invite you before. You killed our envoy, and we had other priorities. But it isn't too late. Nagasawa Satomi—on behalf of Reshape, I invite you to join us."
"So that 'Ranpo' was yours? You called that an invitation?"
Satomi's smile cut. "I don't know what you are, but I know who Shuuichi-dono is. If you're against him, you're not the good guys."
"Then you—a Fullbringer—choose to be dogs to Shinigami?"
"Dogs? Heh. And what are you? A few days ago you played rōnin, now you wear a shinobi mask and won't show your face."
"Rōnin was a disguise. I am a shinobi."
His stance didn't waver. "Your ability is tricky. One-on-one, I can't beat you. But you're not my target. As long as I don't harm you, there's nothing you can do."
Her expression changed.
Shuuichi-dono miscalculated…
Who would guess the enemies in Osaka understood her ability so well?
"Then try it. Hurt the Shinigami behind me—without hurting me. Shinsō: Rengyoku (Divine Aspect: Lotus Jewel)!"
Two-petaled lotuses bloomed again—under her and under Yuki.
It didn't matter. He slid the metal protector onto his head—etched with a whorl and raised horn—formed hand signs, drew his katana, and his focus snapped taut.
"Ninjutsu: Ittō-ryū—Kazekiri (Wind-Cut)!"
A wind brushed past Satomi. Yuki left a fading afterimage.
Behind her, a dull slice. Warm liquid misted the nape of her neck.
She didn't need to turn to know—it should have been Kaien's blood.
"Damn."
She spun anyway. She'd wanted to complete Higashino's mission perfectly—not for praise, but because it had been Kisaragi Shūsuke's mission. Shūsuke was risking his soul to master a Bakkōtō; as his "good friend," she wanted to deliver for him, for Shuuichi-dono.
But when she turned—she froze.
Kaien still knelt there, alive. The one cut was the shinobi—and the blade that made the cut belonged to—
"Shūsuke?!"
She clapped her hands over her mouth.
She hadn't imagined Kisaragi Shūsuke would already be wielding the Bakkōtō that Muguruma Kensei had called a Shinigami's nightmare.
Shūsuke nodded, eyes locked on Yuki Seisui. "Satomi—take Shiba Kaien and those two and get them clear."
"Kisaragi Shūsuke… former 4th Division 9th Seat, later fled with Urahara Kisuke's Visored group…" Yuki recited.
"My story is mine to tell, not yours. Save your breath, Yuki Seisui."
"Heh. Your reiatsu's at Captain level. If I kill you here, that meets quota."
He snapped the blood from his blade and drew in tight.
"Hi Kanshōsen (Flame Geysers)!"
Shūsuke flipped Raika down—his Bakkōtō plunged into the earth. Fire poured from the blade like a swarm and dove underground. The ground cracked; tongues of heat lashed up from four directions at Yuki.
Yuki didn't blink. He carved four slashes at the cardinal points.
"Ittō-ryū—Fūatsu (Wind Pressure)!"
Invisible walls of air rose, held the flames at bay, then advanced and shoved the fire back in layers.
Then he vanished. Only his voice bled at the edge of hearing:
"Ittō-ryū—Ryūten—Battō Renzan (Flow Rotation—Draw Slash Flurry)!"
When his body flickered back into sight, Shūsuke grinned despite himself. The burst that slipped even his sharpened perception—this was beyond most Captains' speed.
But Shūsuke had studied under Higashino.
"Bankai—Raika: Gōen-kaku (Conflagration Carapace)!"
Reiatsu blasted outward from his center. Tangible pressure—more domineering than any Kidō Shūsuke could cast—smashed the rush outright.
"Kaen Furō (Flamethrower)!"
He leveled the tip. Raika became a high-output flamethrower; a drake of fire swept a corridor of earth to molten glass.
The figure in the blaze popped to Shūsuke's other flank.
Ninjutsu: Kawarimi no Jutsu (Substitution)! The "body" roasting in the flames was a log.
"When—?"
He had no time to ponder. Yuki sprang; water welled up around Shūsuke's ankles like hands and clamped him fast.
"Few die to this move. Feel honored, Shinigami."
"Ittō-ryū—Ryūten—Mizushirabe Kubigiri (Water Refrain Decapitation)!"
The steel katana became a blue water dragon edged in wind. With an upward flick, it scythed for Shūsuke's throat.
In the original story, Amagai Shūsuke would have died here.
But this Shūsuke had lived by Higashino's side. Talent could fail; application could not.
Can't brute-force the bind with reiatsu? Fine.
He poured power into Raika—then let go. The blade fell.
"Gōen Ryūga (Erupting Flame Fangs)!"
The instant steel kissed earth—pillars of fire erupted.
Mutual ruin—or retreat. For a human frame, there was only one choice. Yuki abandoned the perfect kill.
He didn't know it would be his last chance.
Within the pillars, freed from the bind, Shūsuke's hand closed on his Zanpakutō. His eyes went cold.
Higashino had reforged and core-boosted Raika many times. Shūsuke couldn't wield full output yet, but a fraction sufficed.
The ground was baked to tinder; pillars dotted the air. All conditions set.
"Ryūgoku: Nenjin (Dragon Gaol: Burn to Cinders)!"
At once the scorched land gave up its last resistance. Circles of ground, centered on Shūsuke, collapsed into scarlet seas. From the sea, countless shrieking fire-wyrms rose and converged at a point in the heavens. A cage of flame dropped; pillars linked sky and earth, swelled, and blossomed until everything in the aviary burned to nothing.
When the fire cleared, a charred skeleton tumbled from above. The metal forehead protector clanged to the ground and shattered in four.
At the same time, a tremendous reiatsu surged from the central cathedral.
Shūsuke felt it—Shuuichi-dono's reiatsu.
Per Sayako-san's briefing, that fight should have stayed within the barrier. If he could feel it now, the barrier was down. That meant the battle there was far worse than his.
Shūsuke ripped Raika from the earth and looked toward the cathedral. "Shuuichi-dono—you're still you, taking the worst problems onto your shoulders. But this time… I can help."
He flashed away toward the church—body scorched black.
Unfortunate: he didn't arrive before Muguruma Kensei fell.
Fortunate: he stopped the Shinigami who looked so much like Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni from releasing his Zanpakutō to fight.
Donka (Dulling).
That was Raika's hidden bane: by vibrating its tuning-fork tip it emitted a special wave that prevented any Shinigami under its influence from releasing their Zanpakutō.
A perfect Shinigami-killer.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Shuuichi-dono!"
Shūsuke flash-stepped to Higashino's side and bowed. Higashino just smiled and shook his head. Late? Not at all—perfect timing.
With Shūsuke here, the "young Yamamoto" was basically defanged. Higashino could focus on Johanse Nosavich; the mysterious Fullbringer who beat Kensei would be Shūsuke's problem. With what little time Kuniku's "loan" left, it was enough.
Only—while they squared up to start round two, the enemy read the board too.
"Seems it's getting out of hand," the green-haired man—eyes still closed—said quietly.
"Yes, Akimi. Out of hand," Johanse answered.
The Osaka operation had lost value with the uninvited Shinigami factor. Worse, his emergency messages told him Soul Society had responded to the spike in reiatsu—three Captains were en route.
If they didn't withdraw now, they might never leave.
He looked at Higashino hammering the water veil. That over-strong, over-clever Shinigami would never let them walk.
"I'm counting on you, Akimi."
Johanse bowed deeply to the green-haired man.
No more words were needed. What Johanse knew, Akimi knew.
It was time to choose.
Akimi smiled back. "It's what I'm for, isn't it?"
He turned and stepped behind the water curtain. Though his eyes were shut, he knew who waited on the other side: the troublesome Shinigami, Higashino Shuuichi.
"Do you know why I keep my eyes closed, Shinigami?"
He spoke to the veil. Higashino didn't answer, but Akimi didn't need him to. He only wanted to leave something.
He smiled—a calm, final thing. And then, for the first time, he opened his eyes. They were pure gray—no pupils at all.
"Because I staked these eyes… on the future."
Higashino felt he'd seen eyes like that once, somewhere. He couldn't place it. It didn't matter.
Because as Akimi finished, the world blinked—and both men vanished from everyone's sight.
"Shuuichi-dono!"
Kisaragi Shūsuke cried out.
In the heartbeat of his shock, at Johanse's signal, the remaining Fullbringer and the "young Yamamoto" broke off and withdrew with Johanse.
They left behind a city of scorched earth.
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