Thinking of the way his captain of the 11th Division had been lying on the white medical bed in the 4th Division, Madarame Ikkaku realized it was an image that would stay with him for a lifetime.
At that time, he had been practicing swordsmanship on the 11th Division's training grounds. Yumichika Ayasegawa, who never cared much for dirtying himself with fighting, had wandered off to drink rather than participate. Fortunately for Yumichika, Tetsuzaemon Iba of the 7th Division often joined them, and the two had taken to making small wagers-whichever man won a bout would get a sip of sake. On that day, however, Iba shamelessly downed the entire bottle in one gulp.
After scolding him and demanding he buy more sake, Ikkaku sat on the steps outside the barracks with his sword at his side, waiting. Instead of Iba returning from the shooting range, however, one of his own squad members hurried up, drenched in sweat and panic.
When Ikkaku asked what was wrong, the man explained breathlessly that something terrible had happened-that the captain was lying in the 4th Division.
For a moment Ikkaku could not register the words. Zaraki Kenpachi lying in Squad 4? The Fourth Division was full of healers, not fighters-the weakest squad in the Gotei 13 by reputation. The men of the 11th Division had always dismissed them outright, considering them an embarrassment among the Seireitei's military forces. They may have been one of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, but they held no true fighting strength.
But the squad member insisted: the captain was seriously injured and unconscious in the 4th Division.
Before the words finished leaving the man's mouth, Ikkaku was already sprinting toward their barracks. His mind raced in disbelief. Who could injure the strongest warrior of the 11th Division? Who could have taken down the mightiest member of the Gotei 13?
Was it Head Captain Yamamoto himself? But Yamamoto was ancient now, and though his strength was legendary, Ikkaku wondered just how much power remained after a thousand years of service. Still, aside from him, Ikkaku could think of no one else capable of dealing such a blow to Zaraki Kenpachi. He had little knowledge of the true strength of the other division captains; perhaps there was someone horrifying among them that he had never considered.
Unlike others who only saw their captain's wild exterior, Ikkaku had fought beside Zaraki countless times. He knew exactly how frightening his strength was.
When he finally burst into the 4th Division's barracks, he expected the squad member's claims of "serious injury" to amount to little more than cuts and bruises. Injuries were common in the 11th Division; they all showed their scars without complaint.
But when he entered the room and his eyes fell on Zaraki's body laid out on the medical bed, his breath caught in his throat. It was no mere injury. It was the kind of devastation that nearly took a man's life.
The body before him was wrapped entirely in white bandages. Blood seeped through in long, dark stains, and what little skin was visible showed deep damage across muscle and bone. There seemed to be no part of his form left unbroken. Breathing alone looked like a miracle of medical skill.
For Ikkaku, Zaraki had always been the strongest being alive-the most monstrous power in the Soul Society. Yet now he lay defeated. Someone had surpassed that monster and left him in this state.
Who had done this?
What kind of force could leave his captain so destroyed?
Later he would learn the truth-that it had been caused by the newly appointed Kidō Corps Commander, Hideki Yuta.
At that moment, when Ikkaku looked up at the sky and saw that white-clad figure raising a hand to summon an enormous barrier over all of Karakura Town, he felt its pressure crush down on him even from afar. The man seemed as if he had merged with the sky itself.
The weight of that presence was staggering. To see Captain Yuta fight with his own eyes… Ikkaku could only imagine what kind of impact it would leave.
Elsewhere, Edorad Leones was equally shaken. That such a man existed in Soul Society-was he known to Aizen? But Edorad had no time to dwell on it. His attention returned to the fight at hand as he exchanged blows with Ikkaku.
"There's no way… I didn't want to use it here," Ikkaku growled.
"Bankai-Hōzukimaru."
Spiritual pressure exploded from his body as three massive blades manifested: two in his hands and one extending from his back. The blade at his back was crescent-shaped, resembling an enormous axe more than a sword, with dragon patterns carved into it. Two heavy chains hung from it, the rings large enough to trap a person's head, and all three blades were linked together to keep them from breaking apart during his swings.
These blades were wider and heavier than a normal Zanpakutō-many times more massive-only barely controllable even by his strength. Each swing threatened to cut friend and foe alike, even himself. But with a feral grin, Ikkaku launched his attack straight at Edorad.
Steel met flesh as one of the crescent blades tore into Edorad's arm, spilling blood across the battlefield. With a furious yell, Ikkaku brought down his largest blade like an executioner's axe, severing the limb entirely before Edorad retaliated and knocked him back.
Edorad quickly analyzed the Bankai before him: no defensive enhancement, no Kidō abilities, only raw strength and a colossal weapon. He believed that if he pushed his power harder, he could still overpower this Shinigami.
But then he noticed something strange. Ikkaku spun the great weapon above his head like a massive three-section staff, the chains keeping the blades aligned as they rotated with deafening force. The dragon pattern carved into the central blade began glowing red at the edges.
And along with it, Ikkaku's pressure climbed higher still.
"You noticed, didn't you?" Ikkaku said with a grim smile. "Hōzukimaru isn't like other Bankai. He's a slow starter-it takes bloodshed to wake him up. As the fight drags on and the dragon patterns turn red, his full power awakens. Only when the entire dragon glows will Hōzukimaru be at his peak."
The two clashed again in midair, spiritual pressure colliding with thunderous force before both combatants fell back to the ground. Edorad staggered, a massive wound carved across his torso, nearly splitting his chest apart.
"Fortunate... that I asked your name first. Madarame Ikkaku," Edorad muttered before collapsing.
…
In Rukongai years earlier, Ikkaku himself had once lain broken on the ground, blood covering his body and his sword shattered. His muscles cramped in pain, his voice hoarse as he choked out his frustration at defeat. The man who stood over him was a nameless beastlike warrior carrying a broken blade and a child on his back.
"Why… aren't you killing me?" Ikkaku had asked him then, unable to understand why someone strong enough to defeat him would leave him alive.
The man-Zaraki Kenpachi-had only answered, "I have no interest in killing those who can't fight back." He seized Ikkaku by the collar and growled, "You lost. But losing and living means you have another chance. Survive. Grow stronger. Then come and fight me again."
From that day onward, Ikkaku knew that Zaraki Kenpachi was the strongest man alive. The title of Kenpachi meant the most fearsome warrior of Soul Society-and Ikkaku willingly threw his future into the service of that power. His only wish was to continue fighting under Zaraki until the day he died.
Years later, when Abarai Renji asked him why he refused captaincy despite mastering Bankai, Ikkaku's answer had never wavered.
"If I became a captain, I couldn't stay under Zaraki-taichō. If your dream is to surpass Kuchiki Byakuya, then my only dream is to die beneath Captain Zaraki's command."
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