A Firework in the Sky
The massive metal safe crashed down onto the mountaintop like a runaway beast, kicking up clouds of dust as it skidded to a halt in front of the thatched hut.
Shiraishi leapt down after it, bracing with his feet to stop the safe's momentum.
Two women rushed out of the hut.
One, with straight black bangs and striking green eyes, carried a plate of tricolor dumplings, her white embroidered apron fluttering.
"Shiraishi, would you like to try some of my tricolor dumplings?"
The other, Guichō, looked anxiously toward their leader.
"Lord Nobunaga, are you all right?"
Oda Nobunaga didn't answer her. Instead, he patted her head reassuringly, his eyes fixed on Shiraishi.
"Do you have any ideas?"
Nobunaga's tension was clear. A Sparrow-Bee Thunder Whip—its destructive power comparable to a nuclear blast—was flying toward them. Anxiety was only natural.
Shiraishi nodded calmly.
"You all get on first. I have my own way to stop it."
To others, preventing the Thunder Whip's detonation might have been impossible. For him, it was simple.
The wind barrier opened.
Forget a single Bankai technique—even if six thousand Shinigami combined their Hado #88: Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō against him, the barrier wouldn't ripple. It was absolute.
But reality wasn't about absolutes. Shiraishi understood that Suì-Fēng had unleashed her Bankai in rage. Letting her strike fall silent would only deepen that anger. He had to at least allow her an echo of destruction, something to vent her fury upon.
"Go," he ordered.
Nobunaga nodded. "Have you gathered all the herbs?"
Guichō patted her pack—six precious herbs already secured.
Lifting her, Nobunaga vaulted onto the safe. Nie Yinmeng followed.
With a thunderous kick, Shiraishi sent the safe flying just as the Thunder Whip descended.
Barehanded, he seized the warhead.
Boom!
A deafening explosion tore the air apart. Golden vortices burst from Shiraishi's body, shielding him from the raging flames and concussive force.
He didn't intend to endure the blast head-on. In the same instant, he stepped away, landing atop the safe now a hundred meters off.
A single sweep of his blade raised an invisible wall of wind, splitting the torrent of destruction.
Gracefully, he sheathed his weapon, spun, and plucked a dumpling from Nie Yinmeng's plate, biting into it as his silver ponytail whipped in the storm.
A true warrior never looks back at an explosion.
"You!" Guichō shrieked, her usually languid voice edged with fury.
Behind them, mountains shattered. Fire and dust surged upward, forming a colossal mushroom cloud. The shockwave scoured valleys and rivers alike, earth itself trembling under its force.
Guichō clung to Nobunaga, eyes shut against annihilation. But when the flames parted around them—split by Shiraishi's wind—the destruction passed harmlessly aside.
Opening her eyes in disbelief, she whispered, "What… what did you do?"
Shiraishi didn't turn, didn't even glance down.
"Nothing worth mentioning."
At that moment, his silhouette seemed to hold up the sky itself. Even Guichō, loyal to Nobunaga, had to admit: Shiraishi's image was catching up to her lord's.
Nie Yinmeng, however, cared only for the dumplings.
"How is it?" she asked.
Shiraishi exhaled softly. "…Too sweet."
"Is sweet bad?"
"I don't like food that's overly sweet."
"I'll be more careful next time."
Nie Yinmeng tucked that away, earnest as always.
Shiraishi glanced back at the devastation.
"What a sight…"
The wind barrier's time was ending. He stomped the safe, sending it plummeting to earth. Just before impact, they leapt free.
With a crash, the safe split open, spilling gold bars and banknotes across the muddy grass.
Shiraishi tossed a wooden stick atop the pile.
"Consider today's debt settled, Sister Guichō. Take what you will."
She shook her head with a smile.
"Your aid in securing the snow lotus for Lord Nobunaga was the greater favor."
Nobunaga turned, his gaze sharp.
"Before we part, may I ask you a question?"
"So long as it isn't personal," Shiraishi said.
"Why do you seek strength?"
Shiraishi hesitated. Saving the world? Not necessary—not with Ichigo Kurosaki alive. Overthrowing Soul Society? He wasn't interested.
He frowned, struggling.
The wind barrier dissolved. Notes scattered on the breeze like drifting leaves. In that moment, his answer crystallized.
"Freedom," he said simply.
"I don't want to be controlled or pressured. I want to do whatever I please—whether it's playing Beyblade with a child or crossing blades with a Hollow. As long as it makes me happy, I'll do it."
Nobunaga understood then: a man impossible to tame. Yet he only smiled.
"Then let us cooperate again when chance allows."
"Wait—let's split the money." Shiraishi gestured to the scattered fortune. "Your men drew away the Eleventh Division. It wouldn't be right to keep it all."
But Nobunaga waved him off. "Rewarding one's followers is a lord's duty. I gave my word, and I'll take not a single coin."
With that, he gathered Guichō and departed, eager to prepare medicine for his burns.
Shiraishi turned back. The gold lay forgotten in the mud.
"Let's return to the Tenth District," he said.
Nie Yinmeng clenched her fists. "Do you want me to carry it? I'm very strong."
"No need."
Shiraishi lifted the safe himself, spiritual pressure straining his arms as wind roared at his back.
The Pure Land they had briefly carved from destruction was already collapsing. With such chaos unleashed… surely the enemy's anger had cooled by now.
Visit patreon.com/Akeyno to get 30+ chapters