"Report to the Captain: the main gate of Seireitei was pierced clean through by an unknown force. Our teams are investigating the scene now," a seated Shinigami knelt before the commander, voice tight with urgency.
"Rakshasa…?" Yamamoto Genryūsai narrowed his eyes at Ichimaru Gin. "You were the first to confront them, were you not? You claimed to have knocked the intruders away at the gate—and yet, here we are."
His tone carried both accusation and warning.
Gin, ever the sly fox, smiled with a shrug. "Captain, I haven't lifted a sword all day. Been right here the whole time. Can't blame lil' ol' me, now can ya?"
Yamamoto's cane tapped the wooden floor sharply.
"If you hadn't gone soft and let them escape the first time, this wouldn't have happened."
Gin's smile didn't falter, but the tension in the room thickened. The old man wasn't interested in excuses.
"Enough. Everyone—monitor the intruders' movements closely. If you face a powerful enemy, show no mercy. This is not the time for hesitation like Ichimaru's."
"Yes, Captain!" came the collective reply.
---
Meanwhile, Ichigo Kurosaki and his group had crash-landed in Seireitei from above—scattered upon entry, each one now forced to fight solo.
Ichigo, as luck would have it, had the worst landing spot.
He stumbled into none other than Madarame Ikkaku, the combat-hungry third seat of Squad 11, his bald head gleaming under the Seireitei sky.
"Well, well. You're not running?" Ikkaku grinned, cracking his knuckles. "The other one with you turned tail the second he saw Yumichika."
Ichigo calmly placed his hand on the hilt of Zangetsu. "Why would I run? If you're stronger than me, running's pointless. And if you're weaker… then you should be worried."
"Hah! Fair enough. I like that answer." Ikkaku lunged forward. "Let's see if your sword can back up your words!"
Steel clashed as their battle erupted. Ichigo held nothing back, and neither did Ikkaku. The Squad 11 warrior even activated his Shikai—but in the end, it wasn't enough. Ichigo triumphed, albeit injured.
As he caught his breath, Ichigo noticed something: Ikkaku had a vial of medical salve. Without hesitation, he applied it to the unconscious man's wounds.
A while later, Ikkaku stirred, groaning in pain.
"You... healed me?" he asked, baffled.
"We're not enemies," Ichigo replied simply, looking up at the sky. "You weren't fighting to kill me. I just want to save Rukia. That's all. I don't want to hurt anyone unless I have to."
"Tch. You idiots came here to save someone… and brought a cat?" Ikkaku laughed, coughing from the pain.
"Yeah. A talking cat," Ichigo said, smirking.
"You're nuts. That kind of crew's gonna get wiped." Ikkaku winced again, his wound flaring.
"You know," Ichigo said, "if all Shinigami were like you, maybe saving Rukia would be easier."
"Now that's just rude, brat," Ikkaku scoffed. "But fine. You see that tower up ahead? That's the Senzaikyū—the Palace of Penitence. That's where Rukia's being held."
He narrowed his eyes. "But listen—every step closer brings you face-to-face with stronger Shinigami. Don't think it'll be as easy as me."
"I understand. Thank you, Madarame Ikkaku."
"Get going. Before someone less friendly shows up."
---
Elsewhere, Shiba Ganju was fleeing for his life, barely escaping Ayasegawa Yumichika of Squad 5. Compared to him, Chad and Ishida Uryu had it easier—the opponents they encountered weren't even a proper warm-up.
Ichigo, though bloodied, pressed on and reunited with Ganju.
Unfortunately, fate wasn't finished testing him yet.
They encountered Abarai Renji.
"You again?!" Renji's face twisted in fury. "So you're the so-called Ryoka causing all this mess?! If you hadn't taken Rukia's powers, she wouldn't be on death row right now! Damn you!"
Renji wasn't holding back. He launched a powerful attack without hesitation.
"Don't think I was showing my full strength back in the human world," Renji growled. "There, we're capped at half-power to protect the balance. But here... I'm fighting at five times that strength!"
He released his Zanpakutō.
"Roar, Zabimaru!"
A whip-like blade lashed forward, crashing Ichigo into a wall with bone-shaking force.
"You think you can save Rukia with this level of power?!" Renji roared, his eyes burning.
"Shut up!" Ichigo gritted his teeth, rising to his feet. Blood trickled down his face, but he charged forward again.
Ganju tried to help, but he was no match for this level of combat.
Renji struck blow after blow, his dominance clear. Ichigo could barely keep his eyes open.
No... not yet…
Remember what the manager taught you... Focus. Recall every move...
In a flash, Ichigo found that feeling. His spiritual pressure surged, roaring to life as it gathered on his blade. The next slash was explosive.
Renji was hurled back, blood spraying as he slammed into the ground.
"What…?!" he coughed. "How… How did you get so strong... all of a sudden?!"
Ichigo stood firm, his blade crackling with energy.
"I will save Rukia. No matter what. I swear it."
For a moment, Renji just stared at him—then, memories came rushing back. Images of himself and Rukia in Rukongai, surviving together, dreaming together…
His sword dropped. Tears rolled down his face.
"Please… Save Rukia. I want to… but I can't. Not with my strength. Especially not with Captain Kuchiki standing in my way."
Renji's voice broke. "He's her brother… but he doesn't care. He's letting her die…"
Ichigo remained silent. His resolve had spoken for him.
And in the shadows, Xiuyu—who had been quietly watching from afar—took it all in. Renji's words, his bond with Rukia, the looming presence of Byakuya Kuchiki… it all painted a picture.
The cold-blooded elder brother, Kuchiki Byakuya—was far more than just a captain.
--------------
Abarai Renji and Rukia were both ordinary souls born in the outer districts of Rukongai, but through sheer will and natural talent, both managed to rise and become Shinigami. Rukia, in particular, was adopted into the esteemed Kuchiki family.
At the time, the Kuchiki clan stood at the pinnacle of the Four Great Noble Houses. And with Rukia's sister once having been the wife of Byakuya Kuchiki himself, there was little reason for Rukia to refuse the offer. It was a matter of both prestige and survival.
Over the years, Abarai Renji trained relentlessly, driven by the desire to catch up to Byakuya Kuchiki—his captain, his rival, and the seemingly untouchable figure whose shadow loomed over his every step. No matter how far he pushed himself, that aloof back always remained just out of reach.
As Renji lay injured, memories of his childhood with Rukia surged through his fading consciousness—flashes of laughter, struggle, and camaraderie in the dust-covered streets of Rukongai. His lips moved with a trembling whisper, words borne not of pride but desperation.
"Please... please... please save... Rukia…"
And with that, Abarai Renji fell unconscious.
"Let's go,! The Palace of Penitence is just ahead! We'll treat his wounds first!" Ichigo shouted, urgency etched in his voice. As he and the others worked to tend to Renji, elsewhere, Chad Yasutora found himself face-to-face with an entirely different kind of threat—Captain Kyoraku Shunsui.
"Oh dear... what a mess," Kyoraku murmured casually, his tone light yet laced with warning. His trademark pink floral haori fluttered in the breeze beneath the white captain's cloak. Unlike other captains, whose presence felt like monuments of stone, Kyoraku radiated the dangerous ease of a man who had long since mastered lethality.
"This isn't the place for you. Go back before you throw your life away."
"I have my reasons," Chad replied, voice low and resolute. He said no more. Instead, he gathered spiritual pressure into his right arm—the Arm of the Giant—and charged.
A radiant burst of white reiryoku shot from his fist, hurtling toward Kyoraku like a cannon blast.
"That's not bad..." Kyoraku muttered, raising one hand lazily. The moment the attack neared, he deflected it effortlessly, the shockwave exploding into the wall behind him with a thunderous crack.
Chad's eyes widened. The gap between their powers was like the sky to the earth. Still—he didn't retreat. Even if he had little personal connection to Rukia, Ichigo's will had become his own. And for Ichigo, Chad would fight.
"You're not the type to get lost in fear," Kyoraku said thoughtfully, observing the resolve etched in Chad's eyes. "You see the difference in our strength, yet you don't run. I respect that."
"I just want to help my friend… even if it kills me!" Chad roared, spirit particles surging once more into his massive arm.
But before he could strike again—
"What a pity. You're a good kid. Take a rest for now."
The words came from behind. Chad's eyelids grew heavy. Darkness swallowed his vision as he collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Kyoraku sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Trouble finds me even when I try to avoid it… Guess I'll carry this big guy to the Fourth Division."
Meanwhile, Ichigo, Ganju, and Hanatarō were sprinting toward the Palace of Penitence when an overwhelming force crushed down on them like a tidal wave of gravity.
"Damn it! That spiritual pressure—" Ganju's voice cracked with panic. "That monster!"
High above them, standing atop a rooftop with his eye patch in place and his spiritual pressure flaring like a storm, stood Zaraki Kenpachi.
"I found you, little rats."
Ichigo felt it immediately—his body slowed, his breath caught. The sheer weight of the pressure was enough to paralyze weaker Shinigami.
"Run!" Ichigo barked. "I'll hold him off!"
Just as the words left his mouth, a searing pain slashed across his chest. He staggered back, blood spilling. He hadn't even seen the attack.
By the time he lifted his gaze, Kenpachi was already in front of him.
"I'm not interested in the small fry," Kenpachi growled, his grin wide and wild. "You're the one I want. The fight doesn't end until one of us drops."
Smartly, Ganju grabbed Hanatarō and retreated without argument.
Ichigo, meanwhile, steadied himself. That flash step from Kenpachi had been too fast. The wound on his chest still throbbed, but at least now, he could keep his eyes on the enemy.
The man towering before him was tall, imposing, and draped in a captain's haori. His spiky hair and eyepatch painted him as anything but honorable. He was a beast. A warrior who lived only for the thrill of battle.
"To keep things fair, I'll give you a free shot," Kenpachi declared, throwing open his cloak and baring his chest. "Let's see what you've got."
Ichigo didn't hesitate. Gritting his teeth, he charged forward and brought his Zanpakutō down with all his strength.
The blade struck—only to rebound with a jarring clang. The impact sent pain shooting up his arms. His hand split open from the recoil. Kenpachi's skin didn't even break.
"Why…?" Ichigo gasped, stumbling back.
"Why?" Kenpachi chuckled darkly. "You didn't know? A battle between Shinigami is a battle of spiritual pressure. Mine dwarfs yours. That toothpick you call a sword can't even scratch me."
Ichigo barely had time to react as Kenpachi slashed. The force was monstrous. Ichigo was sent flying, crashing into a stone wall.
Every fiber of his being screamed in protest. Fear began to creep in—not just of death, but of total hopelessness.
"You're scared. You're hesitating," Kenpachi said, disappointed. "You're not as strong as I thought."
And then, without mercy, Kenpachi lunged forward. His jagged Zanpakutō collided with Ichigo's blade—and shattered it.
The chipped sword pierced Ichigo's chest like paper.
His eyes went wide in disbelief.
Kenpachi yanked his blade free and turned, his voice flat. "What a letdown."
He sheathed his sword and walked away, leaving Ichigo bleeding, broken—and on the brink of something deeper than defeat.
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