Chapter 201: The Gap
As a captain, Gin Ichimaru had his own doctrine for battle.
He had never fully bought into the feverish faith Sosuke Aizen preached, the idea that spiritual pressure alone decided everything, that a Shinigami's weight could crush any problem into obedience. Gin did not deny spiritual pressure's importance, but he believed the real deciding factor was far simpler.
Battles were settled in an instant.
Not by passion, not by ideals, but by information, timing, and the first strike that truly landed.
Once a fight was chosen, every thought and every ability had to be placed on the table. A battlefield was an exchange of information. As each side revealed more, as each action forced a reaction, the shape of victory changed.
Spiritual pressure, Bankai, techniques, all of it was information.
And Gin Ichimaru had built his entire existence around being the kind of information that killed.
He was a venomous snake. A snake that hid in the deepest dark, waited until the enemy relaxed, then ended it with a single bite. The moment an unknown snake bared its fangs, death was already on its way.
His Bankai, God Slayer Spear, was born from that philosophy.
What Gin truly kept secret was not the spectacle, but the truth behind it. He displayed speed that felt impossible, thrusts that seemed to erase distance, a blade that could strike from anywhere within sight. Even the lie he showed the world was lethal.
When someone's Bankai moved at several times the speed of sound and reached across the battlefield in a heartbeat, did it matter if the real number was fourteen times and thirteen kilometers, or seven times and five? In an actual fight, you could not swing a blade that long. That speed only existed in the instant of aim.
So that information stayed hidden.
People would do what people always did. They would avoid death by accepting injury. They would twist their body, sacrifice skin and muscle, pray that a shallow wound was better than a fatal one.
That was the trap.
A successful deception did not need a perfect lie, it only needed a lie that guided the enemy into the wrong choice.
For God Slayer Spear, the moment of injury was enough.
Its true nature was not some miraculous extension and retraction. It was rapid solidification and decomposition, a blade that could turn to dust and return, disguising itself as a sword. The false image reduced speed and mass, made the impossible seem merely terrifying instead of incomprehensible.
Against that kind of threat, no one cared why it happened.
To face Gin's Bankai, watching the blade itself was meaningless. You watched Gin's wrist.
The sword's speed was absurd, but the rotation of the wrist was human. If you could read where his wrist pointed, you could avoid the tip. Even if it meant taking a glancing blow, you could survive.
That was the lie.
Because in Gin's world, an injury was death.
Information, that was all it took. With information, anything was possible.
Gin had not intended to kill Kurosaki Ichigo. Not at first. He only wanted to deliver a warning. A small lesson.
Trusting people too easily was a bad habit in any world.
Especially when that person was Sosuke Aizen.
So Gin chose a sharp, simple method.
Teach the boy with pain.
That was what Gin had been thinking, right until his eyes returned to the floating sphere behind Ichigo and he felt the weight of a mistake settle in his stomach.
Could someone Aizen favored, someone Aizen taught without reservation, truly be that kind of fool?
Ichigo's expression did not change.
"Last time I left in a hurry," he said calmly, "so I didn't introduce my abilities. This time Ganju is right here, so he can see exactly what I can do. This is part of chakra manipulation."
Three black spheres rotated around him, silent, steady. A dark region opened in front of Gin like a curtain of night being pulled aside.
Then, as if demonstrating a classroom concept, Ichigo formed a longsword of unknown material and plunged it into that blackness.
The reaction was immediate.
The blade vanished.
Not shattered, not bent, not cut.
Erased.
It was as if space itself had wiped it clean. The moment Ichigo released his grip, the remaining piece, the hilt, slid down and fell onto the ground. As it fell, the spinning handle brushed the edge of the black curtain for a heartbeat, and that point of contact disappeared too, cleanly erased, before the hilt clattered onto the grass.
Gin's pupils tightened.
Ichigo continued in the same indifferent tone, as if he were explaining a simple fact.
"Truth Seeking Balls are substances that can only be formed and controlled after mastering and sublimating all chakra transformations, through special eye techniques. Once they are formed, they are permanent, but the number each person can have is limited. I've only mastered three so far."
The black curtain faded. The three spheres drifted back into position behind Ichigo's head, forming a triangular array as they floated at his will.
Then Ichigo looked at Gin and smiled faintly.
That smile made Gin's skin crawl.
It was not arrogance.
Not contempt.
It was worse.
It was pity. Compassion that acted as if it understood everything, a gaze from above that pretended to be gentle while still looking down.
Gin's disgust rose instantly.
Without a doubt, Ichigo was learning Aizen's habits. That infuriating calm. That soft smile that made you want to punch him. That way of speaking like the world was already solved and you were simply late to the answer.
Gin's eyebrow twitched.
Instinct took over.
His hand tightened around his Zanpakuto. Spiritual power surged, gathering through the channels on both sides, ready to bloom into captain level pressure.
Then Ichigo closed his eyes.
He shook his head.
And he tapped the ground lightly with his foot.
In the blink of an eye, space seemed to fracture. The white robed figure appeared right in front of Gin and pressed down on his hand.
"It's no use, Captain Ichimaru."
Ichigo's palm rested on the point where Gin's spiritual power poured outward, stopping it as if he were covering a candle flame with two fingers.
He looked up and shook his head again, almost gently.
"For me, a Zanpakuto and spiritual pressure are useless. Even poison is meaningless. Once you master chakra, you master a complete and free energy. There is no single method that can truly restrain me."
Gin's smile froze for an instant.
Ichigo continued, calm and precise.
"Chakra is all encompassing. Illusion, attack, defense, speed. It's like imagination. If you have enough imagination and a basic understanding, you can do incredible things. The abilities I'm showing right now are weaker than yours, Captain Ichimaru, but my agility and my sustainability are much higher."
"Oh," Gin murmured, the corners of his lips lifting again. "So this is what they call an all rounder. Truly remarkable."
Ichigo nodded like a student pleased with his own explanation.
"Right?"
Gin raised both hands slightly, the picture of surrender. His smile returned to its familiar shape, bright and harmless.
"You're impressive, Kurosaki Ichigo. I underestimated you. This time, I was definitely at a disadvantage."
Ichigo did not press further.
He released Gin's hand and turned to Ganju behind him, speaking as if the matter had ended, as if Gin's surrender was real.
Gin watched the boy's back.
He sighed softly.
Then inside his white robe, his wrist flipped.
His Zanpakuto slid into position.
And the blade aimed at Ichigo's spine.
"But," Gin whispered.
A deep thud split the air.
God Slayer Spear punched through Ichigo's body.
Gin's serpentine smile returned fully.
"A battle isn't something you end by saying, 'Ah, I'm done.'" His voice was light, almost cheerful. "That's a valuable lesson, Kurosaki Ichigo. You haven't grown to be as good as you'd like."
Ichigo staggered forward two steps, then steadied on the grass, impaled and silent.
Gin's smile sharpened as he faced him.
Then a cold, gentle voice spoke from behind Gin's shoulder.
"…Is that so? I don't think so."
Gin's expression shifted.
He turned.
The Ichigo he had pierced melted into pale wood in an instant, dissolving into the ground as if it had never been flesh at all.
Above him, in midair, sat another Ichigo.
White robes, legs crossed, posture calm.
Five black spheres floated behind him now.
His hair was jet black.
His eyes were black as ink.
And the smile on his face was peaceful, almost loving, with a thin edge of compassion that made Gin's blood pressure spike.
Ichigo looked down at him as if observing a small experiment.
"Aizen taught me a lot," Ichigo said. "The most important thing wasn't power. It was this. Don't show your true self to someone who might be dangerous."
He tilted his head slightly, still smiling.
"I know Aizen is problematic. He doesn't get along with everyone. But when it comes to teaching, he's the only person I truly trust. So I've been learning from his strengths. His virtues."
His gaze settled on Gin.
"Now it's my turn to test you, Captain Ichimaru."
Ichigo's voice remained gentle as he asked the question that tasted like a trap.
"Do you think the one sitting here is the real me? Am I here watching everyone's performance in this world, or did I leave long ago?"
He smiled a little wider.
"Take a guess."
Gin stared up at him.
Kurosaki Ichigo.
Just as annoying as Sosuke Aizen.
And that realization, more than the loss of initiative, made Gin's lip twitch downward in genuine displeasure.
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