Chapter 20: Battle and Conversation
Narrator's POV
Akira stared intently at Igris, his eyes analyzing every detail of the knight's intimidating form. His fists tightened as he swallowed hard, the glowing "danger level" before him feeling more like a death sentence than a warning.
Though a faint smile touched his lips, a cold drop of sweat slid down his cheek. The truth was sinking in, heavy and undeniable—he'd been reckless.
Maybe he should've waited. He could've leveled up more, strengthened his body, refined his skills. After all, the system allowed him to start the class-change mission whenever he wanted. But the thrill had gotten the better of him, and because of that impatience, he now stood before an opponent he wasn't sure he could defeat.
(I let my emotions get the best of me… Lesson learned.) he thought, carving the realization deep into his mind. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
He didn't draw his daggers. He knew full well that the Kasaka's Fang or the Demon's Blood Dagger would be useless against Igris. The knight's only visible weak point was the eyes, hidden behind that fearsome helm.
Akira exhaled slowly, emptying his mind of fear and anxiety.
(Stay calm… Don't let doubt rule you. Trust your skill. Trust your power.)
Igris, in turn, seemed to sense the shift in Akira's aura. The knight's glowing eyes narrowed slightly, a glimmer of recognition flickering within them. He drove his massive sword into the ground with a metallic crash that echoed through the hall. Then, he removed his crimson cape, letting it fall slowly to the floor, and discarded every secondary weapon he carried.
A solemn silence filled the air. Igris had understood that this fight would not be trivial. Words were unnecessary. He was ready to fight on equal terms.
Akira watched carefully. There was no arrogance, no disdain in that gesture. This wasn't condescension—it was respect.
Igris, true to his code as a knight, was discarding his weapons to fight fairly. He knew Akira would face him barehanded, and as an honorable warrior, he would not allow that difference to stand between them.
A faint smile crossed Akira's face. Yet he knew better than to get comfortable. The fact that Igris had dropped his sword didn't mean the battle would be any easier. On the contrary, Akira knew the knight was just as deadly in hand-to-hand combat.
This was going to be brutal.
Then, without warning, Igris vanished in a flash of crimson.
Akira barely had time to react. In an instant, the knight appeared before him as a red blur. Akira ducked just in time—but Igris's fist grazed his cheek, slicing it open with a clean, burning cut.
With a swift spin, Akira retaliated with a powerful kick charged with cursed energy—but Igris dodged it effortlessly, his movement unnaturally fast. In one fluid motion, he grabbed Akira by the leg and hurled him through the air like a rag doll.
But Akira had anticipated that.
He twisted midair, controlling his body with feline agility. His feet slammed against the wall, halting his momentum. Without a second's pause, he pushed off and shot forward like a human projectile, launching another kick cloaked in cursed energy.
The crimson knight ducked with surgical precision, narrowly avoiding the blow. The ground cracked beneath them from the force of Akira's attack.
Akira landed firmly, turning just in time to block Igris's incoming punch. His forearms trembled under the impact; even blocking it hadn't been easy.
(That punch… I almost missed it.)
His smile stayed, but deep down he understood—he was dancing with a monster. One that didn't know mercy, fatigue, or fear.
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Meanwhile, elsewhere in Karakura—beneath a sunset sky painted in orange and gold—a black cat moved gracefully along the roof of a house. Its steps were silent, its motion fluid and deliberate.
With a smooth, soundless leap, it landed on the ground and walked down the empty street until stopping before a peculiar-looking shop.
Without hesitation, it lifted a paw and began scratching insistently at the door. After several seconds, soft footsteps echoed from inside. Finally, the door creaked open.
Standing there was a tall, slender man with pale skin and sharp, intelligent gray eyes. His light-blond hair, almost white, fell messily across his face, framing his cheeks and crossing just between his eyes. A faint stubble gave him an effortlessly casual look. In one hand, he held his trademark fan.
He wore a dark green samue under a black haori decorated with a pattern of white diamonds along the bottom edge—a design that almost inverted a captain's uniform.
"—A customer, at this hour? Just when I was about to step out?" he asked in a relaxed tone, leaning slightly out the door. No one was there. He raised an eyebrow—then his gaze dropped, locking with a pair of golden feline eyes.
"Yoruichi! Long time no see!" Kisuke Urahara exclaimed cheerfully, crouching to scoop the cat up in his arms. "You slippery little thing—what brings you here?"
"Drop the act, Urahara. This is important… and I'm sure you'll want to hear it."
"Oh? Important, you say? Don't tell me the Shinigami are finally coming for Miss Kuchiki?" Kisuke asked, one brow raised. His tone remained light, but the sharp glint in his eyes betrayed his awareness of Rukia's and Ichigo's situation.
Yoruichi, in her black cat form, shook her head. That wasn't happening—at least, not yet.
"No, it's something else. Remember that case I told you about a month or two ago? The boy who was devoured by a Hollow?"
"Oh, yes, that one. You said he was just a teenager… weaker than the usual type. What about him?" Kisuke's curiosity sharpened; Yoruichi didn't usually keep tabs on someone she'd seen only once—unless there was something very unusual about them.
"I saw him again yesterday. He's alive. I don't know how, but… he's different. Stronger. More powerful. And… I'll admit it—handsomer too." Yoruichi's voice carried a playful lilt at the end.
"Stronger, more powerful, and handsome? What a thorough description," Kisuke teased, a mischievous smile forming as he set Yoruichi gently down. His mind was already racing with possibilities. "Was he still human?"
Yoruichi nodded seriously.
"What a peculiar case… Devoured by a Hollow, yet somehow survived. Didn't become a Hollow, didn't turn into a Shinigami—and still human." Kisuke's tone grew lower, more thoughtful. "I'm afraid I'll have to see this one for myself."
With a sly smile, Urahara lifted his fan and hid the lower half of his face. A soft, amused chuckle slipped past his lips.
Yoruichi could only sigh, though her thoughts were anything but calm. She still had too many questions… especially about that dark energy she'd felt that day.
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End of Chapter