"You've gotten stronger again!"
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni looked at Higashino Shuuichi and spoke that line.
It sounded like a sigh, like a lament—yet also like a quiet acknowledgment.
"Otherwise I wouldn't be standing here, would I?"
Ichimaru Gin retracted Kamishini no Yari. Higashino Shuuichi lowered his left hand, and the two men locked eyes across the battlefield.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni took one step forward—
the temperature around them rose.
He took another step—
the withered grass on the ground began to ignite.
"You are an outstanding shinigami—there's no question about that. It's just a pity…"
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni shook his head and drew his Zanpakutō from the cane he carried.
"All things in the universe—turn to ash… Ryūjin Jakka!"
"Sensei!"
"Head-Captain!"
No one expected Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni to move this early.
Even Ukitake Jūshirō and Kyōraku Shunsui's eyes widened in shock.
Was the pressure Higashino Shuuichi gave off simply too immense?
Kyōraku Shunsui felt that might be part of it.
But more than that… the old man had likely realized something: before the current Higashino Shuuichi, an ordinary captain was no different from an ant.
"I recall… you seem to know my techniques as well, don't you?"
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni gripped his blade.
Flames dripped around him like molten rain.
"I've been fortunate enough to learn a move or two."
Higashino Shuuichi didn't retreat even a fraction. Knowing exactly what Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni intended, fighting spirit burned in his eyes.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni placed his right hand on the back of his sword, slid his left leg forward half a step, and lowered his center of gravity.
Higashino Shuuichi knew this posture well.
The standard opening stance of Fuzan.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni was formally challenging him.
Fuzan versus Fuzan?
Higashino Shuuichi didn't see it as the Head-Captain bullying him.
On the contrary—he was certain this was recognition.
That stubborn old man's heart was clear as snow.
But his status and responsibility forced him to keep that youthful thrill chained down.
After all, he was the man who had once personally crushed dozens of great villains, who had forged the Gotei 13 with his own hand.
If Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni didn't have the same kind of obsession that Zaraki Kenpachi and Unohana Retsu carried deep down, then he never would have become the Head-Captain—never would have remained the strongest shinigami in a thousand years.
He always had it.
It was just bound by a shackle called duty.
And for centuries upon centuries, there had been no one who could truly interest him—no one he had to take seriously.
To Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, almost every shinigami and every Hollow was trivial, insignificant, not worth a second glance.
But today was different.
In Higashino Shuuichi, he saw the word—
Opponent.
Maybe this wasn't the best choice. As Head-Captain, his duty was to be the final line protecting Seireitei.
But—
Higashino Shuuichi mirrored the exact same motion.
New and old collided. A rebellion brought forward by decades.
The opponent was Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni—yet the one drawing steel was not the same man he had been.
The sky split. The earth cracked.
Even Soi Fon, a captain herself, could only scramble back in panic beneath the aftershock of that clash.
Ripples born from the collision of blades rolled outward again and again, shaving away layer after layer of ground—
until three entire districts were carved into a ravine.
Higashino Shuuichi… had he taken the Head-Captain's Fuzan head-on?
In the tidal pressure, Kyōraku Shunsui forced his gaze toward the two combatants.
The answer was obvious.
No—he hadn't.
Higashino Shuuichi still wasn't a match for the Head-Captain in direct power.
His blade, his strength—both were weaker.
And yet Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's sword could not advance even half a step past the boundary.
Because Higashino Shuuichi seemed to possess bottomless momentum.
Every time his old force was about to give out, new force surged in to replace it—endless, unbroken, ever-renewing.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, on the other hand, was the opposite.
One strike—only one strike.
The purest possible blade, with not a trace of impurity.
Even the inferno dared only burn at the edges of that slash, never mixing into its core.
So Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's Fuzan was undeniably terrifying.
But that was also its flaw.
Yes—before absolute strength, schemes and tricks become dust.
But as long as the gap wasn't so vast it inspired despair, Higashino Shuuichi believed he could still fight him head-on.
Steel separated. The two men parted.
"You're the first who has ever taken my Fuzan from the front," Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni said, his tone flat.
So flat one couldn't tell whether it was praise… or regret.
"But I won't be the last," Higashino Shuuichi replied, stating it as fact.
Because in his understanding, in the future, there would be plenty—shinigami, Hollows, Quincy—who could withstand Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's techniques.
But to the captains listening now, it sounded like a veiled insult—like Higashino Shuuichi was mocking their Head-Captain's decline.
"The former Grand Blade-Hunting Chief has quite the mouth, doesn't he?" Ichimaru Gin drawled with narrowed eyes among the captains.
From here on out, he didn't plan to contribute much.
Everyone had already seen him use Kamishini no Yari.
And everyone had already seen he was no match for Higashino Shuuichi.
So even if he "slacked" next, there'd be nothing anyone could pin on him.
"Not many shinigami still call him 'Grand Blade-Hunting Chief' anymore," Kyōraku Shunsui said, cutting a sideways glance at Ichimaru Gin.
But Ichimaru Gin didn't care. He smiled instead.
"Then there are even fewer who call Higashino Shuuichi 'Captain,' hm?"
"And not just now—before, too. I heard the Eighth Division vice-captain, Ise Nanao, always called Higashino Shuuichi 'Captain.' No idea if it's true~"
It sounded like he was talking about Ise Nanao.
In truth, it was a pointed jab aimed straight at Kyōraku Shunsui.
Meaning: don't act lofty in front of me—neither of us is any cleaner than the other.
Both men had ghosts in their hearts. Both suspected the other had problems.
But neither could say it out loud.
Ukitake Jūshirō, who had retreated with them, gave the two a thoughtful look—then turned back.
Because the battle in that direction was far from over.
"If you were still a normal shinigami… you would have made an excellent captain," Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni said, Zanpakutō in hand—eyes clear, mind lucid.
"That's a useless thing to say, Head-Captain Yamamoto."
Higashino Shuuichi shook his head and laughed with disdain.
At a time like this, what was the point of those words?
It could only be said that Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni had the classic flaw of most old men—clinging to what-ifs and old echoes.
"The next technique," Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni continued, "you've seen before."
"But what you saw… was only what I allowed you to see."
"You know nothing of my true power."
"Head-Captain Yamamoto—right back at you."
Higashino Shuuichi held his Zanpakutō, making no extra move, simply waiting for Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni to strike.
He wanted a true duel between men.
Not for this respectable, tragic old warrior to die by some shameful, underhanded trick.
This was Higashino Shuuichi's final respect.
"Ennetsu Jigoku—Blazing Hell!"
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni drove his blade into the earth.
Dozens of sky-piercing pillars of fire erupted in an instant, surrounding Higashino Shuuichi on all sides.
Everything was burning—an airless suffocation.
Blood seemed ready to evaporate under the heat—an exhausting weakness.
"Good thing I'm a shinigami~"
Higashino Shuuichi grinned, playful.
For ordinary humans, this chain effect might be fatal.
But for a shinigami like him, it was almost meaningless.
Instead, between the fire pillars, Higashino Shuuichi raised his Zanpakutō—
"Hadō #96: Ittō Kasō—Chain Slashes!"
Even fiercer flames became blade-arcs, carving open heat and fire through the entire space.
"For a normal shinigami—even me—using Ittō Kasō takes only one slash," Kyōraku Shunsui said, stunned. "The backlash heat alone would cause irreversible destruction to my arm—my body."
"But Higashino Shuuichi… how many slashes has he thrown already?"
"Even with that absurd regeneration, he can't possibly sustain this kind of overload!"
"Thirteen," Ukitake Jūshirō said. "Not one more, not one less."
"Do you think Higashino Shuuichi did that on purpose… or was it coincidence?"
Ukitake Jūshirō tried to use Sōgyo no Kotowari to absorb some of those slashes.
Every attempt failed.
Or rather—Ukitake Jūshirō himself chose to stop.
Because he realized the flames in those slashes were like Higashino Shuuichi's reiatsu now—endless, inexhaustible, perpetually replenishing.
Farther away, Soi Fon—forced into the margins by both strength and position—watched Higashino Shuuichi cut thirteen times, and in a daze she felt herself pulled back to an afternoon long ago.
"Shuuichi-sama… how far do I have to train to become a qualified shinigami captain?"
"When you have a signature big move of your own—you're qualified."
"Then what do I have to do to become a powerful captain like you and Yoruichi-sama?"
"That's simple too."
"When you can treat your big move like a basic attack… then you'll definitely be a powerful shinigami captain."
That was the conversation between Soi Fon and Higashino Shuuichi before she became a captain.
Now, years later—
She had to stake everything just to use her one-hit kill once.
But Shuuichi-sama could treat Hadō #96—Ittō Kasō, a technique most shinigami avoided because of its horrific backlash… like a casual swing.
Shuuichi-sama was still Shuuichi-sama.
Not a trace of change.
No matter how she struggled, she still couldn't reach his shadow.
"I remember your Zanpakutō's ability. You could have used a safer, more suitable method," Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni said, displeasure piling higher.
"But you fired Ittō Kasō thirteen times in a row."
"Are you trying to prove your strength in front of me?"
"Higashino Shuuichi—let me warn you. This is not your stage!"
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's irritation only grew.
Because even now, Higashino Shuuichi still hadn't released his Zanpakutō.
To Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, that was the greatest possible contempt.
But in Higashino Shuuichi's ears, that warning meant nothing.
And instead, Higashino Shuuichi deliberately sheathed his blade.
"What is he doing?!"
At almost the same instant, the same thought surged through every captain's mind.
In a battle this tense, putting your Zanpakutō away was no different from raising your hands in surrender.
"Weird, isn't it?"
Higashino Shuuichi swept his gaze across them and saw disbelief written on nearly every face.
Everyone probably thought he'd gone mad.
But Higashino Shuuichi knew he hadn't.
Not only was he sane—
He was about to give Soul Society's captains a little shock.
"Jōkaku Enjō—Fortress Blaze!"
As Higashino Shuuichi spoke, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni finally seized what looked like an opening. He swung his blade toward Higashino Shuuichi, and scorching flames surged like a gigantic hand, flying straight for him.
Once that hand closed, everything inside would be burned to nothing by terrifying heat.
"So you still won't draw your sword, Higashino Shuuichi?" Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni couldn't understand.
"Shuuichi-sama—counterattack!" Soi Fon cried like a traitor.
"What other trick are you hiding?" Ichimaru Gin watched coldly.
"Pitiful Higashino Shuuichi…" Tōsen Kaname lowered his head, as if Higashino Shuuichi was already dead.
And Kyōraku Shunsui, Ukitake Jūshirō, Kuchiki Byakuya… they all trusted him.
They believed Higashino Shuuichi had a backhand ready.
But as every gaze converged on him, Higashino Shuuichi merely lifted a hand and pointed at Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni.
"Hadō #4: Byakurai."
Those few casual words fell from his lips, and to Kyōraku Shunsui and the others it sounded like two words—
Ridiculous.
Forget Higashino Shuuichi's current level of reiatsu. Even if he stood at Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's peak, a mere Hadō #4—Byakurai—how could it possibly—
And then every captain's jaw dropped, as if they had seen something that should not exist in this world.
No—more confidently: something that could not exist.
That bolt of lightning leapt from Higashino Shuuichi's fingertip, pierced straight through the gigantic flaming hand of Jōkaku Enjō, crossed half the battlefield, passed through Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's Zanpakutō as he tried to block—
And left a bloody hole in Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's body.
"That's impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
Soi Fon's emotions exploded the hardest.
"Even Shuuichi-sama shouldn't be ab—"
"There is no 'impossible,' Captain Soi Fon," Ukitake Jūshirō said, glancing at her. "Because it already happened. That's the reality."
He didn't believe it either.
But he believed his eyes.
Perhaps among everyone present…
Only Higashino Shuuichi himself knew what had truly just occurred.
"Schrift Ability 'I'—Fictional Fantasy, activate!"
"Omnipierce!"
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