The General on the Stage
At this moment, Shiba Kūkaku was in turmoil.
She often bought the Seireitei Newsletter, not for news about the Gotei 13, but to read the serialized stories and literature published within. Professional reports were dull and lifeless, but novels were different. She devoured them — sentimental tales of romance, wild fantasy adventures — and sometimes even mocked the illogical twists.
For example, in one story the protagonist fell into a long flashback just because a companion had died, before the battle with the enemy was even over. Ridiculous.
Yet now, as her own thoughts drifted, she realized perhaps those authors hadn't been making things up. The loss of someone dear could really turn a person into a fool.
She knew the situation was critical. She couldn't afford to be distracted. And yet, she couldn't keep her focus on the enemy.
Kūkaku landed atop the mountain, countless thoughts racing through her head. She didn't know what to do next.
Boom! The ground split, rock dust and dirt bursting upward. Shiraishi appeared, kicking off the rock wall to clear a path back and evade Senbonzakura's blades.
"Let's go."
He couldn't fathom why Kūkaku was daydreaming, and there was no time to waste. He grabbed the nearest bit of her clothing and pulled.
A chill wind hit her chest, snapping her back to reality. She immediately followed — if she hesitated, she'd be left exposed.
Blades cut through the ground, reducing the mountain to silent dust.
The two returned to the entrance of the Shiba estate.
Shiraishi let go of her.
The snap of cloth stung a little, but Kūkaku didn't care. Her voice shook with surprise:
"You're not dead."
"How could I die that easily?" Shiraishi grinned.
Above them, countless petals spread out. The entire sky was covered by Senbonzakura's cherry blossoms. For a moment, it was beautiful — like a rainstorm of pink drifting on the wind — yet the murderous intent hidden within was unmistakable.
"This barrier won't hold much longer," Shiraishi said. "I'll take the lead — you guide the others and escape."
"No," Kūkaku shook her head. "We can't outrun Kanehiko and Ginjiko's shunpo."
Shiraishi frowned. He had misjudged. Senbonzakura had been holding back its speed until now. Those bastards never fought seriously at the start — always squeezing out their strength like toothpaste.
That mistake had forced him to retreat all the way back to the Shiba home.
"We'll have to use the Flower Crane Cannon," Kūkaku decided. She turned toward the house and shouted, "Kanehiko! Ginjiko! Prepare the firing tools!"
Shiraishi scowled. "Do we even have time?"
"I don't know," she admitted. She couldn't say whether the cannon would fire before Senbonzakura's blades tore through. But they had no other choice.
Kanehiko and Ginjiko sprinted down the stairs. Ganju stood frozen, uncertain.
"Follow me!" Kūkaku barked. Circling to the back, she stepped onto the turret and slammed her fist into the cannon's base. Spirals of reiryoku flared, revealing a spacious chamber inside. "Get in, all of you!"
"Idiot," Shiraishi muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just let them in. If I wanted to escape, I wouldn't need your cannon. A single slash could clear the way."
Kūkaku clenched her jaw. Instead of arguing, she snapped at her brother:
"Ganju! If you start crying, I'll beat you myself!"
"Yes!" Ganju took a deep breath, forcing back tears, and walked into the cannon with his head held high.
Moments later, Kanehiko and Ginjiko returned carrying brushes, reiryoku cores, and other firing tools.
"Put them down. Take the cores and get inside!" Kūkaku ordered. "I'll use the secondary launch sequence — target Runlin'an in West First District!"
The two hesitated only for a moment before bowing. "Master Kūkaku… please take care."
"Go."
They stepped inside. The cannon's chamber sealed, returning to its pitch-black state.
"Shiraishi," Kūkaku said with a smile, binding the cannon with shimen ropes, "if we live through this… let's both become proper adults."
The barrier groaned under the weight of Senbonzakura's assault.
Shiraishi chuckled, raising his blade. "You won't last three days and three nights. One day and one night will be enough."
"I think it's you who won't last," Kūkaku shot back, jamming wooden stakes into the four cardinal points. She scrawled firing runes with swift strokes of her brush.
"Just kidding," Shiraishi smirked. "I'll show you what a real man looks like."
"Hah!" Kūkaku laughed, tying the shimen ropes to the stakes and back to the cannon. A white coin stamped with a zodiac sigil dropped into place.
Everything was ready.
Cracks spidered across the barrier.
Kūkaku climbed the turret steps, chanting:
"Copper-colored desires, thirty-six degrees of control! Seventy-two illusions, thirteen horn flutes!"
She drew her ancestral Zanpakutō and plunged it into the turret's ground. With her free hand she ripped off her headscarf and bound it around her right arm. Flames erupted from the cloth.
"The monkey's right hand grasps the stars!"
She slammed her flaming fist into the ground and roared:
"Embracing twenty-five suns — the cradle of sand bleeds!"
The flames surged into the turret. With a thunderous blast, the shimen ropes snapped.
Boom!
Smoke billowed from the muzzle. The cannon's recoil shook the base. At the same moment, the barrier shattered — and a tide of blades surged forward.
Shiraishi roared, lifting his Zanpakutō with both hands. His slash tore through the impenetrable storm of petals.
Kūkaku leapt from the gap with her ancestral blade. But as soon as she landed, a wall of blades divided her from Shiraishi.
Her vision darkened. Her reiryoku plummeted.
"Kage Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."
The masked spirit of Senbonzakura appeared behind her.
Darkness consumed the world. One by one, blades of cherry blossom light bloomed like stars in a night sky.
"I'm done with this little game," a voice sneered.
From behind Senbonzakura, Tsunayashiro Munemasa stepped forward. Sometimes he toyed with prey, drawing out their suffering. Other times, he ended them quickly. His patience was finished.
First he would kill Kūkaku. Then he would take Shiraishi.
"Showing up with your severed head will be quite the spectacle," he said with a grin.
Kūkaku glared back, defiant despite her weakness. "If I die… you'll never reach the Soul King's Palace."
Munemasa laughed. "That was then. Now, with your ancestor's Zanpakutō in my hands, I'll have all I need to reach the Palace."
He stretched out his palm. A cherry-hued blade of light fell into it. His smile widened.
"You can die now."
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