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Chapter 101 - Chapter 101

Chapter 101: Entrance

"Isn't this a little over the top?"

"No. This is a traditional noble-style ensemble. I did my research. For someone in your position, this is exactly right."

"It's just... kind of hard to move in."

"You think I put this together for your comfort?"

"...but I'm going to be fighting someone in a little while, aren't I?"

Soifon wound a length of ribbon around Matsushita Yusuke from behind, crossed it over his chest, looped it into a knot, and finished it off with a large decorative pompom. The pompom was the size of a small cabbage and served no discernible purpose.

She stepped back two paces, both hands going to her hips.

She was very satisfied. Her face made this obvious.

"I know. Take it off right before you go in. It's just for presentation. Don't overthink it."

Matsushita Yusuke made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

What does she even use that brain of hers for.

He shook his head, walked to the standing mirror, and took stock of himself.

Soifon stood behind him, chin raised, radiating confidence.

"Well? This is some of my finest work, I have to say."

He looked like someone about to perform a stage drama.

"It's great. Very dashing. Thank you."

"I knew you had taste."

Right. Moving on.

The fight was scheduled for ten in the morning. That left time for a final round of preparation. Matsushita Yusuke spent the next half hour going back over his abilities and his Zanpakuto, running through everything until it all sat right, then came back out.

Soifon had been waiting outside the whole time. She wasn't alone anymore.

Omaeda Kishinoshin.

Coming to stand here at this hour said everything that needed to be said.

"Matsushita-kun, you're... wow, that outfit is really something."

He cleared his throat twice and redirected with visible effort.

"Right, anyway. That's, uh, not a bad look. Quite appropriate. Yes. Moving on."

Back to business.

"The Captain asked me to check in before you head out. Anything you still need?"

Yoruichi Shihoin had invested considerably in this, in more than one sense. The question was genuine.

"Please pass along my thanks to Captain Yoruichi. I'm in good shape. Nothing else needed at this point."

At that, Kishinoshin gave a nod, reached over, and set one hand on Yusuke's shoulder. He held it there for a moment, pressing down with some weight.

"Take care of yourself."

That was the older generation's way. Less talk, more action.

Matsushita Yusuke smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, Kishinoshin-senpai."

Soifon's voice came in from behind.

"We should get moving. Even just getting there early and familiarizing ourselves with the ground counts for something."

He agreed. The three of them left the Squad 2 grounds and walked straight toward the fight location.

Which raised a question.

He turned his head.

"Where exactly is it?"

Soifon looked around, then pointed west.

"Near the edge. Not quite to the Rukongai, but somewhere without much foot traffic. And over that way..."

She trailed off.

Her expression shifted. A pause, then something that looked like uncertain recognition. She knew this place, but only vaguely. Kishinoshin filled in the gap.

"That's the execution ground. The place where capital sentences are carried out for crimes the Seireitei considers unforgivable."

Matsushita Yusuke's eyebrow went up.

He turned it over in his head, and the relevant information surfaced quickly.

The execution ground.

The place where Rukia Kuchiki was sentenced to die in the original story.

He thought of Sokyoku, the execution instrument. A strange object by any measure. Not controlled by anyone in any conventional sense, and yet capable of releasing the way a Zanpakuto releases. Its design was simple and final: pierce a Shinigami's body, and at the moment of breakthrough, expand its power dozens of times over and consume everything it pierced in a torrent of flame.

Impressive on paper. In the original story, a group of people smashed it apart without too much difficulty. So the actual ceiling wasn't that extreme.

Looking at it from where he stood now, it was probably closer to a ceremonial weapon than an instrument of war. Less about raw destructive output, more about projecting something that couldn't be questioned. Authority. Finality.

The choice of this location wasn't random.

This was a message. There was no graceful exit from what was about to happen. Whoever lost wasn't walking away from it. If Kijishi went down, the Gotei 13 had its own internal process to run through regardless of whether Yusuke finished the job himself. Life or worse was a realistic range of outcomes, not a figure of speech.

And if Yusuke ended up on his knees, Kijishi's character left no room for mercy.

One-way road.

He walked it with a small, uncomfortable weight sitting somewhere in his chest. The three of them covered the distance in just under half an hour.

They were not the first to arrive.

"Hey! Young man!"

The shout came from a man with blond hair who addressed Matsushita Yusuke like they were old friends.

Hirako Shinji. And standing beside him, Aizen Sosuke, expression as composed as ever. He looked over, caught Yusuke's eye, and gave a small nod.

Squad 5 had gotten there first.

Others were already present as well.

Otoribashi Rojuro, Muguruma Kensei, Aikawa Love. Core members of the Gotei 13, and every one of them clearly invested in what was going to happen to Squad 11.

Matsushita Yusuke hadn't fully registered it until this moment: he had just walked into the field of vision of this entire tier of the organization for the first time.

"Is that the one everyone's been talking about?"

Kuna Mashiro had draped herself over Kensei's shoulder and was staring at Yusuke with open curiosity.

"He's got a presence. Why is he dressed like that, though?"

Iba Chikane stood beside Otoribashi, giving Yusuke a careful once-over. Then she nodded.

"Proper attire. Perfectly courteous. Actually, Rojuro, this young man has a better grasp of noble presentation than you do."

Having that pointed out in front of everyone didn't produce a clean response. Otoribashi smiled, lips pressed together, and let it pass.

"Aizen. How strong is he actually?"

Sarugaki Hiyori had been sitting on the ground and bounced upright like a spring. She was looking at Matsushita Yusuke with an expression that wanted to get into it.

"He's fought a captain-level opponent, so he must be something. Hey! Want to warm up? I'll give you a few rounds. Get the blood moving before the real thing!"

Before Aizen could respond, Hirako Shinji's hand came down directly on top of her head.

"Don't cause problems. With your level, you'd just be handing yourself to him on a plate. Have a little self-awareness."

She hit the ground, bounced right back up, and drove a flying kick straight into Hirako's lower abdomen. Textbook form. Considerable intent.

"You bald piece of work! You know better than to smack someone on the head! What if I stop growing?!"

"Cough, cough. That earns me a kick, does it? You really think I won't report you?"

"Like I care! Baldy!"

Aikawa Love grabbed Hiyori by the back of her collar and hoisted her off the ground like a baby chick.

"There's an audience. Could you possibly dial it back."

Then, from somewhere nearby:

"Why aren't you moving with your own captain, anyway?"

"What?! That weirdo who stuffs iron weights down his pants? There is no world where I willingly go anywhere with him."

"Nobody talks about their captain like that."

All of it went directly into Matsushita Yusuke's ears.

His expression did something complicated.

This had occurred to him back when he was reading the manga, but standing here right now confirmed it properly.

The Hollowfication incident: was there some kind of selection criteria for who got caught up in it?

He had assumed it was arbitrary.

Looking at the people in front of him right now, though.

Every single one of them was in Hirako Shinji's orbit.

Aizen had picked his targets with a reason behind each choice. In deciding who to move against, he had also neatly sorted everyone close to Hirako Shinji into the same package and sent them all out together.

Hard to say there wasn't some personal satisfaction mixed in with the strategy.

So sensei had a petty streak after all.

"Hey, young man!"

Something shifted behind him.

After a short delay, it clicked. That was aimed at him.

He turned around and found two figures walking toward him.

A man with long pink haori who looked thoroughly done with the concept of effort. A pale, slight man with white hair and a quietly apologetic manner.

This was technically their first meeting in person, but those descriptions didn't belong to anyone else in all of Soul Society.

He was still working out what to say when his instincts got there first.

Someone was swinging at him.

He stepped left off his back foot, left hand coming up fast. Reishi gathered across his palm in an instant, and he swept it out to meet the incoming blade.

Clang!

Flesh and steel met, and the impact rang out like two metal objects striking each other.

He turned with the momentum, hand opening, reaching to grab the blade.

But the blade was already gone.

A flash of steel, there and back, withdrawn in one clean arc and sheathed before his hand closed on air.

Yadomaru Lisa landed lightly, retreating in short steps. Behind her glasses, her expression carried something that looked like approval.

"Not bad."

The corner of her mouth moved.

"Clean reaction, clean execution. No wonder you agreed to the rematch. You've actually got something."

Matsushita Yusuke blinked at her with an expression that was working through several things at once.

She's a bit unpredictable.

You're a vice-captain. Did you actually think I wouldn't block that?

She had called out before she moved. Getting caught after a warning like that would be embarrassing enough to retire over.

But wait.

He caught up quickly.

This wasn't a test of him. It was a favor to him.

Half the Gotei 13's core members were standing here with no impression of him whatsoever. In that kind of situation, options for making an introduction were limited.

One option: show something.

A clean open attack in front of witnesses. How the target responds in the split second before they can think too hard: that tells everyone more than a formal introduction would.

Yadomaru Lisa's call had been the right one.

The noise from the other side of the gathering had gone quiet. Every set of eyes had turned this way.

"Hiyori. Could you have blocked that?"

"Are you kidding? Easy."

"That was Lisa swinging at you, though."

"..."

"Probably would've been rough."

"More than rough. Might've gotten hurt."

The mood lightened. Someone turned toward Aizen.

"Sosuke. What would you have done?"

Aizen waved both hands and produced a modest smile.

"That sort of physical exchange really isn't where I shine. A different kind of contest and I might give it a try."

Hirako Shinji caught that and gave his vice-captain a look that meant something no one else in the area was being told.

Across the gathering.

Kyoraku Shunsui smiled over at Lisa.

"What's your read?"

"He's strong." She said it simply.

As Squad 8's vice-captain, she wasn't the most straightforward measure of combat capability. But thanks to how Kyoraku operated, she was someone who knew exactly how to land an attack the target wouldn't see coming.

"I didn't hold back. Blocking that took something."

Two coughs. Ukitake Jushiro nodded.

"He's still a student. At his age, I couldn't have done that."

The tall man standing behind Ukitake rubbed the back of his head and worked through his own thoughts.

"And he didn't use his Zanpakuto to block. That was reishi reinforcing his limb, open-hand technique. The blocking method alone is significantly harder than a straightforward sword parry." He paused, then added: "For reference, I can't do it either."

Ukitake coughed, looked back, and the expression on his face was somewhere between a smile and a question.

"Kaien, you can't either?"

Shiba Kaien.

Current vice-captain of Squad 13.

The resemblance to Ichigo Kurosaki was there, but the face around it was harder, the features sharper, carrying a weight that came from somewhere other than youth.

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