"Dual Bankai??!"
Jūshirō stared at the distant figure—Higashino Shuuichi—whose casual stroke had just scattered the black winds born of Ginrei's Zanpakutō Bankai (Final Release). He could hardly believe it.
In all Soul Society's history, this was the first time Jūshirō had seen a Shinigami stack one Bankai on top of another.
And that reiatsu (spiritual pressure), blown far beyond Shuuichi's former limits—could his body even bear it?
Reiatsu isn't "if you have it, you can wield it." Your body must keep up.
Force out too much, and your body collapses before your opponent takes a scratch.
So—could he?
He could.
Unlike Shikai (Initial Release), where once Bankai is active you can't use Shikai abilities, Shuuichi's Bankai powers can coexist. Before he used Jujō Kaika (Flowers Bloom on the Tree), he had already primed the foundation that lets him run a Dual Bankai—Kuniku (Bitter Flesh).
Roll back to when Yoruichi asked for his help and he agreed; when she unwound the seals and lifted the binding on his Zanpakutō, Shuuichi felt the invitation to his inner world.
He closed his eyes. The same field hut. The same man. The same words.
This time the unlocked power was obvious.
By choosing to Hollowfy himself to win their trust—what else could it be but a kigurui stratagem? A "wound myself to win" ploy. Kuniku.
Its function was blunt: delay the cost.
But not forever. With Shuuichi's current strength he could push the bill out at most one year.
In other words, so long as the total cost he should "pay" could reasonably be spread across that year, he could hold his peak state.
Is he strong now?
Of course. He bought it with a year of future weakness.
"Ichi-jū Akki, kai! Riki-oni! (First Demon, release! Power Demon!)"
He stepped forward—oni-shadows wrapped him.
"Nadegiri (Clean Slice)!"
Reiatsu like a tidal wall tore over the ground; Ginrei didn't dare meet it. The mere wash of pressure shredded the black wind around him.
Seeing that, Chōjirō in the other quarter didn't dawdle; he released his Zanpakutō at once.
"Bankai, Kōkō Gonryō Rikyū (Radiant Severe Spirit Imperial Palace)!"
Above him layered gray thunderclouds. Reiatsu streamed from the blade into the clouds; eleven bolts hammered down, then coiled back into the sword.
He never got to show off the next trick. Shuuichi, borne by the oni, was already in his face.
"Bungetsugiri (Split-Moon Cut)!"
Once battle started, Shuuichi didn't like to talk.
"H—how… so fast?!"
Chōjirō couldn't fathom how Shuuichi, who'd been a span away, was suddenly in front of him.
No warning at all.
Steel flew. So did he.
Only Jūshirō, watching the whole board, caught the tell. Though Shuuichi had said "first" release, he had four oni-shadows prowling and gnawing over him.
"A little trick of words, hm."
He remembered Yoruichi teasing him in chat once—Shuuichi would sometimes mislead her with verbal feints during their spars.
He'd thought that was small-time stuff for small-time power.
Turns out—even at this tier, information asymmetry still pays.
But they couldn't let it keep paying.
Jūshirō had thought he wouldn't need to act. Now he saw that if he didn't, an operation with this many captains would turn laughable.
So his own sea-deep reiatsu rolled out—not a hair beneath Shuuichi's.
"Sennyū ryūha, na o waga tate—shisu raikō, na o waga yaiba—Sōgyo no Kotowari! (All flowing waves, become my shield; all thunderlight, become my blade—Twin Fish Dictum!)"
Twin blades linked by a chain fell into his hands.
At the same time, Ginrei lunged at Shuuichi.
"Bakudō no 62: Hyapporankan (Hundred-Step Railings)!"
He advanced while binding—trying to pin Shuuichi's moves.
On the street, Kenpachi—freshly patched by Jūshirō—snatched up his blade and charged again.
Faced with all that, Shuuichi didn't blink.
He'd paid with lifespan and with time; he'd better stamp something unforgettable into these people—or that price would be wasted.
"Proud dragon, filthy ground—irresistible fury, the primal shock that wakes from dream. Gale, blaze, frost, thunder, earth—break karma and burst forth; pass without hindrance; unmake all and return all to origin.
Hadō no 99: Goryū Tenmetsu (Five Dragons Annihilation)!"
Top-tier Kidō—fired with top-tier reiatsu.
The world broke.
Unfortunately for spectacle, Jūshirō had joined the fight. Sōgyo no Kotowari's left blade absorbs. It can drink in all energies.
Unless Shuuichi's reiatsu could outright overpower Jūshirō, anything Shuuichi hurled would only be swallowed.
And even now, stacked as he was, he couldn't crush Jūshirō.
"Edge of a thousand hands—hands that cannot touch the still dark, archer of the sky whom light cannot reflect. Path where brilliance spills, wind that fans the spark; gather without doubt; obey my pointing. Light bullet—eight bodies, nine beams, Scripture—swift treasure—great ring. Gray turret, draw the bow afar—vanish in purity.
Hadō no 91: Senjū Kōten Taihō (Thousand-Hand Bright Heaven Purge Cannon)!"
Sheltered by Jūshirō's defense, Ginrei answered with a fully chanted high-level Hadō.
Beams enwreathed in his Bankai's black wind speared for Shuuichi—only to be palmed by one of the cackling oni. The wind's special effect sank without a trace.
"No effect at all?"
Ginrei's brows knit.
He remembered: Shuuichi had vanished five years.
Where had he gone? Ginrei didn't know—but he did know that the moment Shuuichi returned, Genryūsai had ordered Yoruichi to seal his Zanpakutō with a family heirloom.
Just what power makes the strongest Shinigami in history wary enough to seal it?
The Kabuma clan…
There was only that answer.
"Kisuke—you picked your piece well," Ginrei thought, chalking another sin on Kisuke's slate.
Kenpachi was simpler.
Still not fully recovered, and unable to sense reiatsu, he had no idea Shuuichi had climbed far past the earlier level.
One thought—and Shuuichi flickered to Kenpachi's flank and cut.
Kenpachi was a problem—especially with that "grow stronger the more I fight" cheat. Given that even without him, Ichigo would still one day face Yhwach, Shuuichi had no intention of giving Kenpachi another chance.
He swung—
—and Jūshirō took that blow alongside Kenpachi.
Shuuichi didn't hesitate—Shunpō (Flash Step) opened a kilometer of air.
But the force of his own inherited strike chased him.
Sōgyo no Kotowari's other blade—the one that returns what's been drunk—was humming.
It resembled Shuuichi's own Bankai, Warawazu no Tsurugi (Laughing-Edge Hidden Blade), yet differed in key ways.
His "laughing blade" returns attacks as they were, but cannot carry their special effects, and triggers passively, immediately, with no storage.
Jūshirō's Shikai not only has everything his lacks; using the talismans on the chain between the twin blades, Jūshirō can tune the stored energy's frequency, speed, force—and he doesn't have to be cut first.
Troublesome.
That was Shuuichi's only read.
This man didn't "flash" much in the original tale—but that never meant his Zanpakutō was weak. He and Shunsui together stood before Genryūsai—that alone said enough.
Good thing: at this moment, Rangiku's word finally came.
The Senkaimon (World Gate) was open. All that remained was to buy Kisuke and Tessai a bit of time to move Shinji's group—and Shuuichi's job would be done.
"Facing reality at last?"
Seeing Shuuichi pause, Jūshirō asked quietly.
If possible, he still wanted peace. With Shuuichi's current output, a fight to the bitter end would level half of Seireitei.
Chōjirō staggered up; his glittering Bankai canopy blossomed again. Ginrei, all hidden in black wind, ghosted to Shuuichi's back; reiatsu gathered. On the ground, Kenpachi, death-happy as ever, bore in; Yachiru finally hauled Soi Fon back from death's edge; two humanoid beasts stood at her shoulders. Weak and blinking, Soi Fon looked up at the man she'd once idolized—oni howling on his skin—standing in the sky.
"Let me ask you something. Any of you ever seen a real kishin—a demon-god?"
Feeling all eyes lock on him, Shuuichi smiled.
"Changing the subject won't buy you much," Jūshirō said, not answering.
Chōjirō moved—his thunderstroke flashed. Ginrei moved—the black divine wind rolled to tear Shuuichi apart. Kenpachi, slowed by wounds, still sent a pure reiatsu cleave. Jūshirō pointed his right blade down—Hadō no 99: Goryū Tenmetsu surged up from beneath Shuuichi's feet.
Soi Fon clutched her chest and, staring at the lone figure at the storm's heart, couldn't stop the cry—"Shuuichi-sama!"
At the center, Shuuichi closed his eyes.
He remembered the day he unlocked Jujō Kaika—and realized the last "oni" of Ikeda Kōsuke's Zanpakutō wasn't fixed.
Ikeda didn't want to die—wanted to savor battle forever. So his final oni was protection.
And Shuuichi?
He didn't know what he wanted. But that last oni seemed to give an answer.
"Bankai, Shikabane Kaesu (Borrowed Corpse Revival)."
In an instant, every "corpse" Shuuichi had arranged across Soul Society over these decades activated; every Reishi construct he'd loosed earlier to counter Ginrei flowed into a body.
Then—
"Dual Bankai—go-jū Akki (Fivefold Demons)."
His eyes opened. For a breath he looked like an emperor above the world.
"Hyakki Yagyō (Night Parade of One Hundred Demons)!"
Far below, in Hell, a pair of eyes snapped open—staring straight at Ikeda Kōsuke on the shallow rim.
Hell's surface power roared through him—and, in Soul Society, every risen "corpse" was plated in shrieking oni.
Pitch-black keening became Seireitei's sole color.
"What… did you do?"
Jūshirō stared at Shuuichi—now circled by scores of small demons like stars around a moon—standing unharmed amid the combined strike of four captains.
No reply.
Shuuichi's gaze swept the ring of Shinigami and, at last, paused on Soi Fon below. He still said nothing—only looked a moment longer—then slipped away in Shunpō.
They tried to give chase—only to find they were already overwhelmed just containing the "oni" he'd made.
These things had a flaw—their reiatsu dwindled quickly as they fought—but their starting level was solid captain class.
Even if each could only throw one captain-class hit, that was still more than most Shinigami could stomach.
Worse: their defense and speed were absurd—and Sōgyo no Kotowari didn't bite on them.
Under their oni wards, each "corpse" was punching above spec.
Well—it was the fruit of decades.
Burning them all at once was a pity—but not a tragedy. Once Kisuke finished a portable Senkaimon, Shuuichi could sneak back and plant a new crop.
In truth, if Jūshirō's group had insisted on chasing, Shuuichi's plan might've gone even smoother.
His borrowed time was nearly up. Without him, it wouldn't be easy for Kisuke, Yoruichi, and Tessai—with Tessai's forbidden art sealed—to ferry Shinji's team safely out.
But they couldn't know the state of his body.
Nor would they gamble Seireitei on a chase—even though Shuuichi had leashed his "oni" to avoid hurting civilians as much as possible.
Not out of sainthood. A mass loss of souls would wreck the balance of the Three Worlds.
He wasn't here to break the scales—only to live better.
Even Aizen killed sparingly.
Only a madman like Yhwach would spit on balance.
On his way to the Senkaimon, Shuuichi detoured to Second Division barracks. Through oni eyes, he'd seen Kisaragi Shūsuke—sent to stall the Tenth Division captain—defeated when his Zanpakutō shattered in Bankai and he fell.
"Shuuichi-sama… I'm sorry, I—"
In a pool of blood, one eye half-open, Kisaragi looked up at the man who appeared before him.
He hated it.
Hated that he'd failed his task—and forced Shuuichi-sama to come save him.
If Shuuichi were caught because of him, dying ten thousand times wouldn't pay for it.
"Higashino Shuuichi?!"
Across from them, the Tenth Division captain stared at the masked man with a dagger in his chest—reiatsu stinking of Shinigami and Hollow both. Only one name fit.
"You did well, Shūsuke. Leave the rest to me~"
Still in Dual Bankai, even with his reiatsu muffled, Shuuichi didn't spare the Tenth Division captain a thought.
In this state, aside from a handful of monstrous outliers, he feared no one in Soul Society.
"You're arrogant, Higashino Shuuichi!"
The captain felt the slight and fumed.
That upstart Shinigami brat had been one thing; since when did a vice-captain dare strut before him?
Was his blade dull? His Bankai weak?
So he sang the full chant:
"Seeping crest of turbidity, arrogant talent unbound—tide—negation—paralysis—momentary—obstruct long slumber. Crawling iron princess, mud doll that wounds itself—combine—reverse—extend to the ground—know your impotence!
Hadō no 90: Kurohitsugi (Black Coffin)!"
Let Shuuichi pay for his pride.
He didn't know why Shuuichi had appeared—but a fully chanted 90 had nearly crushed Kensei once.
A mere Hollowfied vice-captain?
He snorted, humming as the black coffin swallowed Shuuichi and Kisaragi.
"Dying to my spell is an honor!"
Two seconds later, his face changed.
Shuuichi carved the coffin in half with one stroke.
Kisaragi, held under his arm, was untouched.
"Impossible! That was a fully chanted ninety! You're just a vice—damn you!"
He yanked up his blade to release.
Shuuichi's voice drifted, calm. "Right—you were promoted from the expeditionary corps while I was gone. You wouldn't know me."
Before the release words left the man's mouth, Shuuichi stood before him.
"Then learn me now."
One thrust through the chest. Pure reiatsu—pure grind.
Shuuichi turned and left.
Behind him, a body fell—and small demons shrieked.
In the captain's last flicker of awareness, he dimly heard Shuuichi's parting words:
"The kishin who authored tonight's Hyakki Yagyō in Soul Society—Higashino Shuuichi."
"Kishin… huh…"
He thought of what he'd seen last.
That hell-black.
A demon-god, indeed.
Meanwhile, near Fifth Division barracks—after lazily cleaving one of Shuuichi's "oni"—Aizen lifted the corpse and studied it, smiling.
A new trick Shuuichi had never shown him~
"How many secrets are you still hiding?
You're making me look forward to you, Shuuichi."
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