Rukia's face was scarlet as she looked at the two women.
Sode no Shirayuki glanced her way and deadpanned, "Zatsugyo master, what a… petite figure. If you were a bit more, ahem, ample, maybe Cole-kun would've already made a move."
Rukia nearly exploded, glaring at her own zanpakuto. "Quiet! I haven't even settled how you keep cozying up to Cole. You may be my zanpakuto, but you're also a separate life."
That her blade had moved faster than its master—no matter how she thought about it, it stuck in her craw.
Sode no Shirayuki couldn't help a sly laugh. "Only you, oh 'zatsugyo master,' would be jealous of your own zanpakuto."
Rukia ground her teeth. "And only you would dare steal your master's boyfriend."
"And me too—I 'stole' Cole as well." Niku Shizuka glided in with a smile, hugging Rukia lightly from behind. "So relax. Don't mind my master; she won't take Cole away. She'll just borrow him when you're not busy."
As a zanpakuto, she knew Unohana better than anyone. This thousand-year shinigami had long since seen the world's rise and fall; only the obsession with battle remained in her heart. And in a thousand years, only one boy had ever brought her genuine joy. Naturally, she was attached to him. Beyond that, whether the boy liked other girls—Niku Shizuka simply didn't mind. To her, whether Cole or Rukia, they were children—endlessly adorable. How could she feel jealous of children?
Unohana gave a small hum, but didn't refute Niku Shizuka's "explanation." At bottom, she didn't want to make Cole angry. What if he refused to cross blades with her? Now that Cole's strength and swordcraft surpassed her own, fighting him was not only bliss—it carried the thrill of being overmatched. It filled her with exquisite contentment.
Rukia fidgeted, half convinced. But didn't that mean she needed to "lend" Cole from time to time? He was her boyfriend!
While she wrestled with that thought, Unohana had already settled back onto the hanging cot, eyes full of longing as she looked at Cole. "Cole-kun…"
"W-wait, Hana-nee, let's stay calm…" Cole, sweating, started to step back—then stopped as Unohana caught his hands.
"Let's continue," she said softly, drawing him to sit beside her.
"Mm—!" Rukia's face went apple-red. She covered her cheeks and hurried out of the pocket space, flustered. Sode no Shirayuki hesitated—only for Niku Shizuka to nudge her forward with a grin.
"We're zanpakuto. No need to mind shinigami notions. While you're here, enjoy it."
A rosy tint spread across Sode no Shirayuki's snow-pale face. She was shy—but reluctant to leave. Ever since Muramasa's death, her manifested form had been weakening, little by little. At most half a month remained before she would return to Rukia's zanpakuto—into the snowscape within. The bewitchment had been undone; she no longer resisted the inner world. Even so, she couldn't bear to part from Cole just yet and wanted to leave a few warm memories in this time.
By the time she'd finished hesitating, she'd already been guided onto the soft kido-woven hammock.
At the same moment, Unohana, cheeks flushed, sat close. Breath unsteady, she looked away, then back again.
Sode no Shirayuki, mortified, dared not meet Unohana's eyes and simply leaned into Cole's chest. "Idiot Cole… hold me."
Cole smiled despite himself, wrapped an arm around her, and brushed a light kiss across her cheek.
From behind, Niku Shizuka hugged Cole as well, laughing by his ear. "Cole-kun, shall we…?"
[Implied, non-explicit affection; no details.]
Outside the pocket space, Rukia paced back and forth, face heated. "Sode no Shirayuki… you're doing it again…"
…
Time slipped by.
Half a month later, in the Sixth Division's district of Seireitei—
Cole strolled the street with Sode no Shirayuki on his arm. His right hand skimmed a newly built wall; the fresh masonry dissolved into blue spiritual power and streamed into him like water. Feeling his reiryoku fill to the brim, he couldn't help sighing, "New walls really are the best—so smooth to absorb."
In the past half month, he had slipped out at night to siphon reiryoku from the rubble, until the broken bricks and stones were practically gone. Countless shinigami applauded that—sparing them the work of clearing debris.
Sode no Shirayuki snickered as she eyed the bare avenues. "If Byakuya-taichō sees this, he'll be furious—he might even release his Bankai and come after you."
Half a month ago, when the zanpakuto uprising ended, members of the four great noble houses returned home—only to gape. Nothing remained but open fields. Not just the ornate manors; not even the foundations and paving stones were left. Anyone who didn't know better might think nobles liked sleeping under the sky, living like cavemen among wild beasts.
From Rukia's tale, Byakuya's face had gone from green to purple; he'd nearly drawn his blade and come for Cole. The Tsunayashiro clan, too, almost brought out a consecrated artifact. If not for the Captain-Commander taking their side of the quarrel and calming things down, Seireitei would have plunged into a massive civil war the moment the uprising ended.
Cole curled his lip. "Those wastes—born cowards abroad, bold at home. Where were they when the fighting started?"
Through the entire rebellion, aside from a very few, most nobles had vanished without a trace.
Sode no Shirayuki covered her mouth, laughing. To talk about nobles like that in Seireitei—only Cole would dare. After she laughed, though, she still warned him gently: "Cole, don't provoke them right now. If they really act, it'll be troublesome."
"Troublesome? Are they stronger than the old man?" Cole raised a brow.
"That's not what I mean…" Sode no Shirayuki looked conflicted. "Byakuya said each of the four great houses keeps artifacts beyond imagination. If they used one on you…"
Cole nodded faintly. He had, in fact, seen many such things during the incident: the Shihoin clan's Tenfūhei (Heaven-Sealing Troops) and Tentashō (Heaven-Stepping Brocade), the Ise clan's Shichikagami no Tsurugi (Seven-Mirror Sword), even executioners' strange instruments. Each had its own peculiar might. But to say that level could make him fearful—that would be a joke.
Thinking as much, he swept Sode no Shirayuki into his arms and spun her in a circle, laughing. "Don't overthink it. I'm not scared of so-called nobles. Instead of worrying, keep me company."
Seeing his confidence, Sode no Shirayuki nodded, smiling. "Mm."
In the days that followed, Cole showed up on time every day to siphon reiryoku along the streets—sometimes with Sode no Shirayuki at his side, sometimes with Niku Shizuka. Yesterday, though, Niku Shizuka, drained of her strength, had bid him a reluctant goodbye and returned to the blade.
Today, after a few streets, a chill rose from Sode no Shirayuki's body. She lifted a pale hand and waved with a smile. "Cole-kun, I have to go back too."
Half a month had passed. She could no longer maintain a manifested form and had to return to the zanpakuto.
Cole couldn't bear it. With a flick, the Nyoi-bō (Wish-Fulfilling Staff) appeared in his hand. "Sode no Shirayuki, what if I force you to stay?"
The Chinkai Shinjin (Sea-Calming Needle) within the staff possessed a suppressive power. If he invoked it, she wouldn't be able to return to the blade.
Sode no Shirayuki kissed him lightly on the lips, then smiled. "That won't do. Rukia and I are partners. Only by returning can I let her fight at full strength."
As she spoke, her silhouette faded, leaving only a cooling whisper. "Cole-kun, I was really happy. Take good care of my zatsugyo master."
The snow receded; the chill lingered.
Cole stood a moment, a touch of melancholy in his chest. Even now, he still couldn't quite grasp what zanpakuto truly were. They clearly had independent minds—so why return to that lonely inner world? Was this the bond between shinigami and their zanpakuto?
He shook off the thought, eyes firming on the lines of fresh buildings ahead. He tore forward with a shout: "Time to Bankai!!!"
The Nyoi-bō's suppression was frighteningly strong. If he could bring the staff itself to Bankai, maybe—just maybe—he could reunite with Sode no Shirayuki sooner.
But as Cole flung himself into "training," Seireitei suffered. What the shinigami built up by day vanished overnight—down to the last brick. They were on the verge of collapse. And yet, thinking of how Cole had saved them, they clenched their teeth and started rebuilding again. Surely one person couldn't absorb reiryoku without limit. Let him try—how much could he possibly take?
Five days later—
With dark circles under their eyes and fury in their voices, squads of shinigami stormed First Division to lodge their complaints.
"Captain-Commander, help! Our Seventh has been gnawed on three times by Cole already…"
"Our Sixth doesn't have a single paving stone left!"
"And our Thirteenth—he sucked down every building we had; Captain Jushiro is sick from anger…"
"This guy just keeps absorbing and absorbing…"
The chorus of grief seemed endless.
It was hard to blame them. To condense reiryoku into buildings, shinigami had to compress the energy bit by bit—forcing the intangible into the density of a single brick. Each brick brimmed with power. Normally, a single brick's worth would restore an ordinary shinigami's strength seventy or eighty percent. Unfortunately for them, they'd run into a freak. In five days, he'd practically devoured Seireitei three times over, until they no longer had the strength to lift a finger.
Inside First Division—
Genryūsai's expression darkened. He turned to Shunsui. "Shunsui, why is that brat still in Seireitei? The other human brats went back to the World of the Living."
Shunsui cleared his throat. "Well… it's hard to drive him out…"
The other captains traded looks. After all, Seireitei had been saved largely thanks to Cole. Without his help, it wouldn't have been so easy to restrain Ryūjin Jakka.
Senjumaru laughed lightly. "What an amusing child. A shame he hasn't come to visit me."
Genryūsai snorted, about to say more, when his lieutenant, Chōjirō, rushed in close to tears. "Captain-Commander, that brat Cole is at it again! He's absorbed twelve streets and eighty-four buildings from our First!"
The corner of Genryūsai's mouth twitched. He flared his reiryoku outward. Sure enough, a black-haired boy was sprinting with grim resolve, tracing a fingertip along everything he passed. Buildings dissolved into blue reiryoku one after another—including his own room.
Even with all his cultivation, Genryūsai's temper frayed. He rose, face like thunder, strode out, and cut down in a sweep of flame. "Brat—do you intend to make me sleep on the street tonight!?"
The torrent of fire vaulted down the way, shattering walls as it came.
Cole, staring at the wave of crimson heat, sighed in pained reproach. "Old man, wasteful much? First Division poured heart and soul into those buildings…"
Genryūsai's flames burned too hot. Even reiryoku made solid would melt under that fire, returning to heaven and earth.
As Cole spoke, white-and-red hollow matter crawled across his right arm. He thrust forward into the oncoming blaze.
Boom—
The fire detonated, the blade of flame blown open. The raging strike was stopped cold by that white-and-red shell.
Genryūsai's pupils tightened. He stared at the black-haired youth, grave. "Full hollowfication!?"
(End of Chapter)
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