In the next moment, countless thin, razor-sharp blades descended from above, glinting faintly in the light as they floated downward like delicate pink petals.
It no longer looked like the start of battle. It resembled springtime in Seireitei, when cherry blossoms blanket the sky and couples stroll beneath the trees, lost in the falling petals.
Wind carried the blades gently, blanketing the air with the illusion of beauty-calm, even peaceful.
Behind that illusion was the deadly technique of Kuchiki Byakuya's Senbonzakura, capable of turning the battlefield into slaughter in moments. A moment later-boom-icicles surged forward and struck the wall of countless blades.
Two bursts of spiritual pressure collided, sending energy scattering in every direction.
It was like watching two high-pressure jets meet midair, breaking apart in waves of force.
Soon, Ciwu Bailian's spiritual attack dissipated entirely.
Senbonzakura's petals remained and passed cleanly across Kuchiki Rukia's body.
In the next instant, lacerations split open across her skin as blood burst outward from wounds appearing simultaneously on her arms, torso, and legs.
Her body gave in beneath her weight, and she collapsed to her knees, her eyes dim with stunned silence before falling forward with no strength to hold herself upright. Her black Shinigami attire became soaked in blood almost immediately.
Her hand-though slashed and shaking-still gripped her Zanpakutō tightly.
Byakuya Kuchiki approached her, each step measured and silent atop the frost-covered ground. The snow and ice did not disturb his balance. He walked with the composure of one stepping through ceremony rather than toward the fallen.
She could hear his steps growing louder in her ears-each one echoing like her own death drawing closer.
Her limbs wouldn't move. She could only wait for what was next.
Byakuya stopped at her side and looked down at her with eyes as unreadable as stone. "Is this your best effort?"
"It seems that serving under the overly lenient 13th Division has made you complacent..."
"Your training is weak... and your resolve is just as fragile. Did you really believe you could break someone free with so little strength?"
Rukia coughed heavily, blood spilling from her lips. Despite that, there was clarity in her gaze-an unwavering sense of purpose that hadn't dimmed in the least.
"Brother... some things... aren't about strength or rules..."
"It's because I have to do it. So I did it..."
"Even knowing it would fail. Even knowing it could cost my life."
Byakuya's question came low and emotionless. "Why?"
"… Because saving someone I cherish has always mattered to me... far beyond any rules."
She raised her Zanpakutō again. An intense light flared briefly in her eyes as her spiritual pressure surged one final time.
Byakuya stilled.
In her face-even beneath the fatigue-he saw echoes of someone else. A different woman with the same expression and the same unwavering kindness.
Someone Rukia resembled too closely.
In that moment-that brief hesitation-a blade of crystal ice and snow pierced through his chest.
It was transparent and refracted the light, almost ethereal in form.
Rukia's Zanpakutō had broken earlier during the battle. Yet her spirit, her will to protect, had shaped another blade from spiritual energy and ice alone.
Even if the sword broke-her will had not.
Ice and snow had become her weapon now. It stretched without limit, cut through every obstacle, and reached her target cleanly.
Blood slipped from the corner of Byakuya's lips as the frozen blade remained lodged within him.
He didn't fall. Even gravely wounded, he remained composed-his posture upright, unshaken in form or face.
As frost gathered around the wound, he touched the blade lightly.
With fingers now coated in white ice, he broke the structure gently.
Cracks ran through the frozen weapon. A brittle snap followed as he pulled it from his body with restrained force, crystal shards stained red.
Despite the injury, his expression did not falter.
"This technique... what is it called?"
"Three Dances: White Blade." Rukia's answer came faintly, her breath shallow and unsteady. Her strength left her as soon as the words did, and she collapsed unconscious to the ground.
Byakuya looked at where she had fallen. A long silence passed before he spoke again.
"This Zanpakutō... is beautiful."
She couldn't hear him now. The words passed unheard-fragile in their timing as the silence held them captive.
At that moment, spiritual pressure shifted in the clearing again.
It gathered beside Rukia, compressed rapidly, and materialized into human form.
Yuta arrived without delay-silent as he materialized beside her using Urozakuro.
Without hesitation, he lifted her broken body into his arms.
His gaze passed briefly over her shattered Zanpakutō, then over her injuries. Small cuts and gashes littered her arms and legs, bleeding steadily beneath torn fabric.
Byakuya watched from where he stood, observing Yuta's actions carefully-though he said nothing.
Yuta replied with no words either. He merely raised one hand, his fingers glowing softly as light gathered in his palm.
Healing light enveloped Rukia in moments. Wounds sealed without scar. Her broken sword reformed slowly, the blue spiritual energy condensing around it until it returned to its original state.
At first, Byakuya's face remained unchanged. He had seen high-level healing techniques before.
However, when he saw Yuta regenerate the Zanpakutō entirely using spirit particles alone, his pupils narrowed sharply.
"This... what sort of ability is this?"
Yuta gave no answer. He remained silent, lifting Rukia again and vanishing for only a moment-long enough to place her somewhere safe nearby-before teleporting directly back to the bridge across from Byakuya.
His gaze lifted to meet Byakuya's fully.
There was no anger in it. No fire or threat. Just clarity and focus-cold and direct.
And somehow, that was far worse.
Byakuya felt unease run beneath his skin-a rare ripple in his composed mind.
It wasn't logical. It was instinctive, and that made it harder to ignore.
His stance shifted unconsciously as he realized this was no ordinary opponent-not someone to test or probe lightly.
Yuta finally spoke again.
"The battle between us won't take long."
"It'll be over in one moment."
His hand moved calmly toward the hilt of the Zanpakutō at his side.
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