"It seems what you said makes sense, Xiuyu. You really can't judge a person by appearance alone," Madara murmured as his sharp eyes landed on Unohana Retsu. Among the four captains present, she possessed the most suffocating murderous aura—even while clearly suppressing it.
The atmosphere grew tense. Ganju and Uryū flailed behind Unohana, gesturing wildly at Orihime, Su Xiuyu, and the others to retreat while they still could.
None of them knew the true strength of Su Xiuyu or Madara. With four captains present, they simply assumed there was no way the newcomers could be on equal footing.
But Su Xiuyu and Madara ignored the signals, unmoved. As for Orihime, she stood calmly—because she trusted Xiuyu completely.
"Kenpachi Zaraki," Tōsen Kaname called out, pointing his Zanpakutō with righteous fury, "why are you standing in their way? Have you fallen so far as to side with the Traveling Beasts?"
If Su Xiuyu hadn't already known Tōsen's past, he might have been swayed by the man's dignified appearance and words. But he understood: Tōsen wasn't simply a traitor or villain. Sometimes, people just follow their own warped sense of justice.
"I was going to stop you," Zaraki muttered, his grin growing. "But now? Nah. I'd rather enjoy myself. The one who beat me last time is right here—no need to act tough. Come on! Let's fight!"
"I refuse," Madara said coldly.
Zaraki blinked. "Huh?"
"You're too weak. I'm not interested. I expected more from a captain, but... this is it?"
The harsh dismissal stung more than any wound. It was exactly how Madara had felt after their previous duel—disappointed.
Without warning, Tōsen appeared behind Madara, blade slicing toward his ribs.
But it never landed.
Two fingers clamped his blade mid-swing.
Even though he was blind, Tōsen could clearly feel it—Madara had caught his Zanpakutō with a mere pinch.
Tōsen struggled to wrench it free, but it wouldn't budge.
"I feel the confusion in your sword," Madara said coolly. "Is this really the blade of justice?"
He could sense the burning desire beneath Tōsen's composed facade. It wasn't justice. It was vengeance.
For the first time in years—since Aizen—Tōsen felt true pressure.
"Chirp! Clear the insects!" he roared, releasing his Zanpakutō without hesitation. "You may be strong, but Suzumushi will erase all enemies in my path!"
He rose into the air, his spirit blade morphing into a deadly, glinting weapon.
"Suzumushi Style Two: Red Locust!"
A barrage of razor-sharp blades rained down like a storm.
"Repent... in the downpour of my judgment!"
But—
"So, what exactly are you aiming at, blind man?"
A sudden chill crawled down Tōsen's spine.
Before he could react, a crushing force slammed into his back, driving him straight into the ground. The earth exploded into a deep crater beneath him.
Madara, who had been standing idly moments ago, was now gone.
Not a single blade had touched him.
"..H..How?"
Even Komamura and Zaraki hadn't noticed when he vanished—understandable, as ninjutsu wasn't part of Soul Society's arsenal.
"You're seriously asking how I dodged that childish move?" Madara scoffed, glancing at Zaraki. "Are all Soul Reapers this slow?"
His arrogance made Tōsen bristle with fury. Komamura quickly stepped forward, voice calm but firm.
"Tōsen, don't let him provoke you. He's trying to bait you—"
"I know!" Tōsen barked. "But I'm not afraid of violence!"
He raised his blade high.
"Bankai! Clear the Insects: Final Style—Enma Cricket!"
A crushing wave of spiritual pressure erupted from him, encasing both himself and Madara within a dark, oval-shaped barrier.
"In this Bankai," Tōsen declared, "you will lose all senses—sight, sound, smell, spiritual pressure. Within this realm of confusion and shadow... your end will come. Consider it my final respect."
Inside the barrier, Madara stood calmly.
"Tsk. This is supposed to be darkness? Tobirama's illusions were more refined."
He couldn't hear anything, nor sense anything from the outside world—but he didn't need to.
"Admittedly, this is impressive—for someone born blind. But honestly, relying on sensory deprivation? It's a parlor trick at best."
"Shut up!" Tōsen's voice rang out. "What do you understand?! You, who were born whole... You never knew what it meant to be feared, scorned, pitied! You never had to watch someone you loved vanish before your eyes!"
His voice trembled with pain and anger.
"When I kill you... everything will return to how it was!"
"What a pity," Madara muttered. "Even now, you won't hear what I'm about to say."
Tōsen thrust his blade with everything he had—but it felt like striking wood. No feedback, no wound—just resistance.
"Susanoo."
In an instant, a brilliant blue skeletal warrior enveloped Madara, shattering the darkness like glass.
With the barrier gone, sight, sound, and pressure returned in a rush.
Tōsen stumbled back, wide-eyed, clutching his Zanpakutō in disbelief.
How... How did he break my Bankai so easily?!
"In the face of overwhelming power, tricks and tactics mean nothing," Madara said. "In that regard... even your defeated foe, Zaraki, is more respectable than you."
The four captains stared in shock as Madara loomed in his glowing Susanoo, a being they had never seen before.
To them, it must have looked like a strange new form of Bankai—but to Madara, it was simply power.
------------
"Tōsen!" Komamura Sajin rushed forward, kneeling beside his fallen comrade. The damage was severe—Tōsen Kaname's spiritual core had been shaken to its depths.
"…Is my sword really this fragile?" Tōsen murmured, his voice hollow with disbelief. Though his defeat seemed rooted in the failure of his Bankai, the truth ran deeper. It was the collapse of his ideals, the shattering of the justice he clung to.
"No. Everyone here is fragile," Madara said flatly, arms crossed. "You, blind man, don't need to take it personally."
The statement cut deeper than any blade, and yet—Unohana Retsu didn't flinch. Her expression remained gentle, serene, but behind that calm exterior, she sensed something terrifying: Madara was telling the truth.
Komamura, however, could not abide such scorn—not when his closest friend had just been humiliated.
"Roar—Divine Punishment!"
With a sharp command, Komamura's Zanpakutō erupted into its Shikai. A massive armored arm emerged from the void, wielding an enormous blade. His direct attack-type Zanpakutō was known for its brute force.
But to Madara, it looked more like a child's toy.
"Hmm. Looks like a knockoff Susanoo. Cute." His own Susanoo raised a hand, effortlessly catching the descending blade. With a casual swing, he slapped both Komamura and his Shikai backward like broken dolls.
"Boring. Can someone give me a real fight?"
Komamura gritted his teeth, struggling to his feet.
"Bankai—Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō!"
From the ground erupted a towering black-armored warrior—fierce, imposing, with crimson facial armor and an enormous black rope wrapped around its waist. The sheer presence made the air grow heavy.
Madara's eyes lit up with faint interest.
"Now that's more like it. If you were in Konoha, you'd be considered top-tier. But against me?" His smirk returned. "Still not enough."
"Susanoo."
His third-stage Susanoo materialized beside the Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō. Though slimmer in build, it stood even taller, its aura oppressive.
"I'll make you regret underestimating my justice!" Komamura roared.
The black-armored giant swung its colossal blade in sync with its master. The two titanic weapons collided—Komamura's blade and Susanoo's greatsword crashing together in a thunderous shockwave that tore through the surroundings.
Sparks flew. The ground split. For a moment, it looked like an even match.
But Madara quickly saw through it.
"Strong—but not sharp," he muttered, analyzing the way Komamura's movements mirrored those of the giant. "So the Bankai is linked directly to his body... which means if it gets hurt, he does too."
With a blur of motion, Susanoo moved faster than the Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō could react. Madara summoned Yasaka Magatama in one hand, his blade in the other. In a single, fluid motion, he shattered the enemy's weapon and slammed the Magatama directly into the giant's chest.
Boom.
The armored giant crumbled, its torso imploding from the force. At the same time, Komamura howled, blood bursting from his chest. He collapsed to the ground, his Bankai forcibly canceled. His wolf-like mask cracked, revealing his face beneath.
"A Bankai that shares damage with its user?" Madara scoffed. "That's not noble. That's just reckless. The stronger your enemy, the faster you die."
He had seen many similar techniques in the ninja world—overpowered, flashy, but riddled with fatal flaws.
Still… he glanced at Komamura's face with a rare flicker of curiosity.
"You're… not human?" he muttered.
Komamura coughed blood. "You… you don't care?"
Madara shrugged. "Why should I? Your sword and soul are aligned. You're weak—but at least your conviction isn't."
"Big dog," he said, strangely approving, "you've got potential. Live long enough, and maybe one day you'll pose a challenge."
Two captains down in under fifteen minutes.
One crushed in spirit.
The other in body.
Unohana stepped forward without hesitation, her serene presence commanding. She began treating Komamura immediately. His injuries were grave—far worse than Tōsen's.
That left only one.
"You're the last one standing… Kenpachi Zaraki." Madara's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why are you here? Another obstacle?"
"Nope." Zaraki grinned, lifting his sword. "I'm here to fight. I live for this—the blood, the thrill... and especially monsters like you."
He radiated excitement. But time was running out—Rukia's execution was near. They couldn't afford to waste another second.
"Madara, it's time," Su Xiuyu called. "Just beat him halfway to death."
"Tch. What a shame. I was looking forward to this," Madara said, glancing at Zaraki. "Another time, maybe."
He raised a hand.
"Hadō No. 90: Kurohitsugi."
Black spiritual energy surged from the ground beneath Zaraki, swallowing him whole. A coffin-shaped construct of dense, high-level Kidō formed instantly, trapping him within. Inside, gravitational torrents twisted space itself, compressing, crushing, suffocating.
When the coffin shattered, Zaraki stood bloody and battered—then collapsed, unconscious.
"Hm. Bit too much power that time," Madara said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still not used to your spiritual energy, huh?"
"You used Kurohitsugi like it was a level-one spell," Su Xiuyu muttered. "Do you even realize how few captains can cast that?"
Even in Soul Society, only a handful of Kidō masters had achieved such mastery. Most captains focused on their Zanpakutō—balancing both was rare.
"Captain of the 4th Division… Unohana Retsu, right?" Su Xiuyu turned to her with a measured tone. "You smile too kindly. But I know what you're hiding."
Unohana smiled softly, as though his words were a compliment.
"People should accept all sides of themselves," Su Xiuyu continued. "Even you."
"We're going to rescue Rukia," he added. "Any objections?"
Unohana shook her head. "There is no sin in saving a friend. I have no intention of stopping you."
She tilted her head slightly. "In fact, I'm quite curious. I'd like to see if you can actually prevent the execution."
Su Xiuyu smiled faintly.
"Then, if you'll excuse us."
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