"Scatter... Senbonzakura."
Cherry blossoms drifted toward Muten Natsu, light and graceful, slow and elegant in appearance.
But what he saw was something entirely different.
A dense mass of blades was rushing toward him at terrifying speed. The floating petals were not Senbonzakura's true form. Countless blades streaked through the air. The pink afterimage left by sunlight reflecting off the first blade overlapped with the afterimage of the tenth, layering together to create the illusion of petals dancing in the wind.
To judge their speed by the gentle fall of blossoms would be a fatal mistake.
But...
It didn't matter.
Muten Natsu stepped forward.
The scales along his leg split open, releasing hellfire that surged outward with the motion of his step.
A ring of black flames expanded, blasting away every blade that had closed in.
Just as Renji Abarai had once judged, when Senbonzakura scattered through the air, it had no footing to draw power from. It could only be controlled through the hilt. Its raw striking force and durability were both limited.
"Attacks at this level are a waste of effort, Byakuya Kuchiki." Muten Natsu shifted slightly. "Or do you want to try your blade's hilt against my draw technique?"
"Very well." Byakuya Kuchiki released his Zanpakutō, letting it return to its sealed state. "I will turn you to dust before you have time to regret this. Bankai. Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."
The Zanpakutō sank vertically into the rippling ground.
Layer upon layer of ripples spread outward. From within them, enormous blades rose one after another, lining up neatly on either side of Byakuya Kuchiki. They stood like cold iron gates, like merciless execution frames, their edges pointing skyward.
Then, all at once, they shattered into countless pink petals.
The drifting petals gathered into a roaring torrent and swept toward Muten Natsu.
Myōki had already finished charging.
Muten Natsu swung his arm. Black fire tore free from the blade and surged forward to meet the incoming flood of petals.
"Boring," Byakuya Kuchiki murmured.
The countless blades released Reiatsu. Tiny impacts stacked upon one another, layer after layer, until the accumulated force transformed in nature, shredding the black flames apart.
At the same time, the sea of petals split into two streams, curving in from both sides toward Muten Natsu.
Muten Natsu gripped Bokukō in his left hand and spun.
Thick spirit ink seeped from the blade, wrapping around him like flowing silk.
The scales along his body opened. Black fire spilled out, igniting the spirit ink.
It exploded outward, blasting away the blades that had drawn close.
But more blades poured down from above, like a pink waterfall crashing from the sky, seizing the instant after his burst of power to strike his body without restraint.
"The essence of Senbonzakura lies in launching an all-encompassing attack with hundreds of millions of blades," Byakuya Kuchiki said, watching the blurred figure within the storm of petals. "It is not something your draw technique can withstand."
"I thought so too."
A surge of black blade pressure burned through the sea of blossoms as Muten Natsu followed close behind it. The scales covering his body sparked with black fire as they were sliced again and again, forcibly resisting the barrage.
"That's why I never planned to block it with my draw technique."
The Sōkyoku, refined by hellfire, had become the scales covering Muten Natsu's body. Their formidable defense suppressed the black flames while also allowing him to endure Byakuya Kuchiki's relentless blades.
Quantity could indeed lead to qualitative change. But if those blades wanted to pierce Muten Natsu's defense, it would take time.
Muten Natsu swung his blade and charged straight at Byakuya Kuchiki.
"Even an attack without blind spots shouldn't feel like a tickle."
"Still as ever..." Petals burst behind Byakuya Kuchiki, blotting out the sky. "Arrogant."
...
Shunsui Kyōraku slowed to a stop. "This should be far enough."
Jūshirō Ukitake's long white hair lifted in the wind. "Yes. This way, we won't drag others into it."
A figure arrived a moment later.
Shunsui Kyōraku turned and waved lazily. "Nanao-chan, I thought you weren't coming."
"You were just too fast..." Nanao Ise began, but her gaze suddenly froze.
In the blink of an eye, an aged figure had appeared ahead of them.
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto sat on a rock, leaning on his cane. His scarred bald head reflected the sunlight. Despite moving with such speed, his captain's haori still rested neatly on his shoulders.
"Incredible..." A bead of sweat slid down Shunsui Kyōraku's temple. "You got here in the blink of an eye."
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto rose slowly, almost awkwardly, like an old man with stiff joints. "To this day, no misbehaving child has ever managed to shake me off."
He opened his eyes fully, and in that instant he was once more the imposing Captain-Commander.
"Come," he said. "Brats."
Nanao Ise felt the crushing Reiatsu rolling off Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto and could not help worrying for her captain.
With power like this, even two captains might not be able to win.
Staring at Shunsui Kyōraku's back, she slipped a hand into her robes.
She had to do something.
Her body jolted.
Her fingers went rigid.
No, not just her fingers. Her entire body locked in place.
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto had merely glanced at her.
Just that one glance made Nanao Ise realize how foolish her thoughts had been.
That was not even the Captain-Commander's true Reiatsu. It was only a trace of presence leaking unintentionally.
And yet, the moment he looked at her, the air itself seemed to turn hostile, pressing in around her, stealing her breath.
"Stand aside." Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto slightly restrained his Reiatsu. "I have no time to teach a junior like you how to regulate your breathing."
Nanao Ise's body swayed, and she collapsed to the ground.
"Don't be afraid, Nanao." Shunsui Kyōraku gently stroked her hair. "Just bear with it."
When he had teased her for being slow, he had not meant it.
He had wanted to tell her not to come.
In a flash, Shunsui Kyōraku carried Nanao Ise far from the battlefield.
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto did not stop him. As Shunsui Kyōraku's teacher, he understood him better than anyone.
Shunsui Kyōraku would never abandon Jūshirō Ukitake and flee alone.
Thinking back, those two had stood out even as students.
Though Shunsui Kyōraku liked to tease women and acted carefree, his mind was meticulous. He saw what others overlooked, his insight far surpassing most.
Jūshirō Ukitake, frail in body, was deeply loved because of his kindness. Perhaps because he himself endured constant illness, he understood suffering better than most, and always tried to help others escape it. He was naturally the center of those around him.
And once they entered battle, both displayed extraordinary strength, enough to rival even their seniors.
"What refined Shunpo," Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto remarked as Shunsui Kyōraku returned. "To cover such distance in a single step."
"You flatter me..." Shunsui Kyōraku replied, his smile unchanged, though clear vigilance shone in his eyes.