"Aaahhh!"
"Help!"
"Someone's going to kill the nobles…!"
"Save me—four ribs—at least four!"
"Go get Captain-Commander Yamamoto!!!"
The Shihōin estate dissolved into wails. Moments ago those haughty nobles had strutted like peacocks; now they scrambled like sewer rats, tripping over each other to flee. The stern old "elders" cried snot and tears, praying for eight legs to grow so they could run faster. Sacred tools clattered everywhere—discarded, forgotten. No one even dared think of resisting Cole.
He swung the golden staff, thumping it across noble backs and shoulders, cold smile fixed in place.
"Where's your 'artifact'? Your 'honor'? Weren't you going to 'teach' this lowly human? Is this all you've got?"
Screams spiked louder. Panic-stricken eyes fixed on the black-haired boy. He really hit them. One strike—at best you got off with only a few broken bones. In a million years of Soul Society, only this lunatic dared run so wild.
Behind Cole, the onlookers were stunned. Yushiro rubbed at his eyes, mouth hanging open as he stared at those once-majestic elders—some even sages from the Central 46. All day, they'd preached that nobles were untouchable, the highest beings under heaven. Now they crawled like dogs, bawling as they scrabbled across the earth. Dignity? Smeared underfoot like mud.
Soi fong's voice came out dry. "How… how is this possible? Those are sacred tools. Why aren't they doing anything?"
The Shihōin were famous as Soul Society's armory. Rumor said, if the family unleashed their artifacts, they could flatten the entire Gotei 13. Yet here they were—routed by one person.
Cole glanced back and sighed. "You're a captain, Soi fong. Don't be naive. If artifacts did everything, why bother with the Gotei 13?"
Every artifact he'd seen so far was either wrapped in fussy conditions or just plain underwhelming. None hit like a single blade from Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni.
He snatched a spear-shaped tool from a stumbling noble and slammed it into the ground. Lightning exploded.
Boom!
A smoking pit opened underfoot—the blast far beyond what the noble had shown moments earlier.
"See? Plenty of power in these toys, but it still comes down to the user."
The same weapon in a grunt's hands and in Yamamoto's—two different worlds.
He flashed ahead toward a weeping noblewoman. She sobbed and shoved power into white bone-wings, the artifact Heaven-Tread Splendor, trying to flee skyward. But her own speed capped her out; even with the glide, she never reached a true captain's pace. Cole's kick launched her eight hundred meters; she knife-planted into the dirt, legs kicking as she stuck there head-down.
Thump, thump, thump—
Each time a noble tried to run, Cole's staff found a shoulder, a spine, a knee. Screams turned ragged.
Spotting pockets still intact, Cole put two fingers in his mouth, filled his chest, and blew.
The whistle knifed through the sky. Seconds later a shriek answered—deafening. Fire rolled overhead, a phoenix-like leviathan of living flame diving out of the clouds.
The executioner's artifact.
Soi fong blanched. "The Shell-Breaking King—wasn't that thing sealed again!?"
Rukia whispered, "Cole let it go earlier. Hard to recapture. It's just… roaming."
Cole vaulted up and landed between the blazing shoulders, pointed down at the scrambling nobles, and laughed. "Shell-Breaking King, give them a lesson. Show them what a real artifact looks like—maybe they'll stop acting like gods."
The fiery king screamed and stooped, a tidal sea of flames flowing in its wake. Nobles went bloodless. That was the executioners' killing tool; take it head-on and, without perfect defense, even a shinigami could be burned to nothing—no trip to Hell, nothing. And Hell here was real—a landfill for lost souls. If even Hell refused you…
Young nobles wet themselves. The firebird roared over them; a ceiling of fire skimmed their scalps, then lifted, letting a rain of embers pepper their silks. Gilded robes went black; shrieks rose as they slapped at burning hems.
Cole laughed, banked the firebird, and brought it above his group. The three girls stared up, dazzled—handsome, terrible, and so tempting to ride. Cole waved them to wait, turned, and leveled his palm at Yushiro.
"Bakudō no 63: Sajō Sabaku (Binding Way 63: Locking Chain Strangle)!"
Chains of gold dropped from the air and yoinked the "boy-girl" aloft.
"Aaah!"
Yushiro kicked helplessly—until Cole snagged the chain and hoisted him up one-handed. After a long, shaking moment, he blinked at the flames licking nearby. "…It doesn't hurt."
"Of course not. The Shell-Breaking King's my partner; it won't burn you." Cole mussed his hair. "Don't stare. Come on—I'll show you what these nobles really are, and how to become a real man."
Yushiro swallowed hard and stepped carefully onto the living fire, following. The two climbed to the bird's crown and looked down.
Below, the nobles resembled fat field mice pinned under a hawk's shadow—rolling, crawling, howling. Silk caked with mud, skin cut and blistered. Their vaunted artifacts lay everywhere, shattered or abandoned.
Yushiro couldn't form words. Uncles. Great-uncles. Men who'd tutored him on "noble dignity" and "never risk yourself." Now they looked worse than the refugees of Rukongai District 80.
Cole smiled. "See it? Power and status rotted them. That's why they only run."
"If they had courage, they'd pick up those artifacts and fight me. Do that—and even I wouldn't call it a hopeless fight."
Yushiro nodded, dazed. He'd never dreamed his kin were this timid—timider than he was.
"So. Do you get it now?" Cole sat on the great bird's brow, still smiling. "I don't hate nobles. The first noble I met was Byakuya—arrogant, sure, but he does bear the weight of honor and duty. Your sister, too—loud, free, but brave and resolute."
"Learn from them, not the trash below. When danger comes, show the resolve of your rank. Don't flinch. Don't run."
He spoke of the nobles he respected. On the fire-crowned perch, Yushiro's heart thudded faster. Admiration flickered in his eyes; his head bobbed without him realizing.
Cole paused, stared. "…Why are you blushing?"
With Yoruichi's features and that rosy face, the "little brother" looked even more like her younger sister. Yushiro ducked his head. "I—I just think you're amazing. No one's ever taught me this. Sister never… said any of it either…"
Bad.
Very bad.
Alarm bells bad.
Cole swallowed, a bead of sweat tracing his temple. With his experience, this set of signals was… not great. Had Yushiro's "feminization" gone all the way—to orientation? Considering Soul Society's long list of eccentric kinks, a cold prickle crept down his back.
Nope. Not dealing with that. Yoruichi would murder him.
He jerked his chin at the Shell-Breaking King, sent it swooping low to scatter nobles again, then hopped down into the estate and went to work, absorbing architecture at top speed. Black light scythed through the streets; buildings winked out; nothing grew in his wake.
From above, Yushiro lay at the crown's edge and watched with shining eyes. "So that's a real man…"
A human-born shinigami, unafraid of noble titles, swinging his "blade" against a thousand—undaunted. Incredible.
Orange flashed across the sky—a streak of sunlight slamming to a halt overhead. Eyes swept the empty estate, the nobles squealing under the firebird's shadow, and finally… the little "boy-girl" tied to the Shell-Breaking King's head.
Silver teeth ground. A voice vibrated with danger. "Dear student Cole, would you like to tell me what you're doing to my house?"
Cole froze mid-step, turned, and managed a brittle smile. "Yo, Yoruichi. Not in the Soul King's palace after all, huh."
Yoruichi's face was black with fury. "Brat. I let it slide when you wrecked my home once. You came back for seconds—and tied up my little brother."
Cole hurriedly palmed another building into his storage and raised both hands. "Yoruichi—listen to my excuse—wait, no—listen to my explanation. I didn't bully him. He really enjoyed our… talk."
Yoruichi's vision grayed at the edges. Her brother—wrapped like a dumpling. Enjoyed it?
Cole craned his neck toward the firebird. "Little boy—no, no—Yushiro. You like talking with me, right?"
On the Shell-Breaking King's brow, Yushiro blushed and nodded. "Sister… Big Brother Cole is nice. He taught me a lot. Don't be angry. I really like—Big Brother Cole."
If Cole hadn't taught him, he might never have understood what being a noble meant. Not rank or reach, but responsibility. Even against the impossible, don't flee—fight and break the foe. So long as you wallow in privilege, you're no different from the trash below—skulking, groveling, shaming the Shihōin. He had to grow stronger—become a noble like Byakuya, like Sister. Never run again.
To Yoruichi, it felt like the sky fell.
Brother… calling that kid "Big Brother Cole"!?
Excuse me? You're older than his grandfather by centuries!
"And what was that last part!?"
You "really like" him!? He tied you up. He's tearing down your house. You "like" him!?
Yoruichi pressed both fingers to her temple before she fainted from rage. She'd known her kid brother liked dressing up; she was a rebel herself and hadn't fussed. But this smelled like a… new kink.
Cole missed all of that and gave Yushiro a proud thumbs-up. "Well said. I'll teach you more next time—turn you into a big hero like your sister."
Like me—a woman—
Yoruichi's vision swam. She lunged, claws out. "Brat!!! What did you teach my brother!?"
Her furious cry rolled over the Shihōin roofs.
At the same time, over the Kuchiki estate, a cold voice split the air.
"Cole!!!"
"I will slice you into sashimi!"
Byakuya had arrived—furious.
(End of Chapter)
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