Kenpachi's Disappointment
Beneath the western White Road Gate, a vast shadow stretched across the ground. Kenpachi Zaraki sat cross-legged with his back against the gate, his heavily bandaged Zanpakutō resting on his shoulder, a black eyepatch covering his right eye.
The bells tied to his hair jingled faintly in the breeze as he dozed with his eyes closed.
Beasts have their instincts.
Last time, when his wild chase through the Seireitei failed to find Shiraishi, Zaraki decided on a different approach. Trusting his instincts, he chose to wait here.
The moment Shiraishi's Reiatsu had flared, Zaraki knew instinctively—this was the prey he had been waiting for. Even when several powerful Reiatsu had surged earlier in the First Division's area, Zaraki hadn't moved. His Division was farthest from there, and by the time he arrived, others would have already claimed the fight. Better to trust his instincts and remain.
Now, it seemed his patience was paying off.
Though the air was still, the bells on his hair chimed. Zaraki opened his left eye, a grin spreading across his face as he slowly rose to his feet.
Three figures approached and landed before the White Road Gate.
At the center stood a man with a silver ponytail, wearing a white apron and shoulder bag, a golden leather jacket tied around his waist, and a blade at his side.
"Finally… Shiraishi."
Kenpachi Zaraki drew his sword in one hand, slid the scabbard back into his sash with the other, and grinned. "Want to fight me together?"
Shiraishi smiled faintly, spreading his hands. "Before you fight me, ask my companions if they agree."
Zaraki Fūya stepped forward, calm and cold. "Zaraki… you are unworthy of the title Kenpachi."
"Hah?" Zaraki blinked, then chuckled. "If you can kill me, you can take it any time."
"No need. I already have it."
Kenpachi frowned. Each Kenpachi inherited the title by killing the previous one. Before him, aside from the original, they should all have died.
"The succession does not always follow rules," Zaraki Fūya explained evenly. "As the eighth Kenpachi, I defied Central 46 and was imprisoned in Muken. The title passed to Vice Captain Gosuke. Soon after, Onigawara killed Gosuke and became the tenth Kenpachi. Later, you killed Onigawara and became the eleventh."
"I see!" Zaraki burst into laughter, excitement sparking in his eyes. "I always wondered how that fool got the title. So that's the story… Doesn't matter. Let's fight!"
"You're too weak."
Fūya's words were flat, but his attack came instantly.
Blood sprayed from Kenpachi's body as if carved by countless invisible blades. He staggered, then crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.
"You chase the thrill of slaughtering the weak instead of seeking growth. You seal away your own power, shackling your strength. Zaraki… you are far too arrogant."
Fūya did not even call him "Kenpachi." Beneath his calm exterior, it was clear he still respected the title, unwilling to see it sullied by someone unworthy.
But killing Zaraki would bring trouble. He had no desire for war with the Gotei 13. His only goal was to maintain balance between the living world and Soul Society.
"Ken-chan…" Yachiru Kusajishi's voice called softly, but she stayed where she was, watching.
Kenpachi's vision blurred, blood pooling beneath him. His thoughts spun in confusion. Was this… defeat?
"What strength!" Kūkaku gasped in disbelief.
Without a swing of his sword, without Kidō, Fūya had brought Kenpachi low in an instant. The eighth Kenpachi, once a prisoner of Muken, had proved his existence through sheer overwhelming force.
A chill touched Kūkaku's heart. She detested the Shinigami, yet she could not deny their role in maintaining order. If all the prisoners of Muken escaped… Soul Society would collapse into chaos and bloodshed.
"Kūkaku, why are you standing there? Let's go," Shiraishi urged.
He did not pity Zaraki. He understood his strength better than either Kūkaku or Fūya. The defeat was due only to Zaraki's eyepatch suppressing his Reiatsu. Like a champion fighter lingering too long in the novice ranks, his loss here was inevitable—but only for now.
"Zaraki, will you come with us?" Shiraishi asked.
"No. I have my own matters in Soul Society," Fūya answered coldly. "I'll give you the full plan next time."
"If you don't, we'll just follow mine," Shiraishi muttered. In the end, planning was nothing without strength.
"Yes." With a wave of his hand, Fūya opened the side door of the White Road Gate, letting Shiraishi and Kūkaku slip outside before closing it again.
Then he vanished.
Kenpachi stirred, pushing himself up slowly. He was not one to fall easily. Unless his opponent's strength vastly exceeded his own, he would always rise again.
Still dazed, he couldn't figure out how he had been struck—but the confusion only fueled his fighting spirit.
Tearing off his eyepatch, his Reiatsu exploded outward, spiritual particles surging in the air. His grin widened, eyes gleaming.
"Let's continue!!"
"Boring."
Fūya's voice drifted faintly, his form dissolving into smoke.
"What?!"
Kenpachi froze, excitement draining into frustration. His thirst for battle had been doused with cold water, leaving him standing dumbfounded in silence.
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