Chapter 78: The Bell Rings Again
[Emergency Alert! Emergency Alert!]
[A high risk prisoner has escaped. Initially identified as an advanced Menos Grande. This prisoner is extremely dangerous and has gained control of Sokyoku. All divisions are ordered to cease current missions and immediately take positions to apprehend the fugitive!]
[Repeating once more…]
"How grating."
Arturo watched the firebird streaking toward him, a satisfied smile resting on his lips.
"As a scream of fear, it's novel. Just… foolish."
"They want to arrest me." He chuckled softly. "So they intend to capture me alive? How naive."
He tilted his head, as if genuinely pondering it. "Who gave that order? A clown like that should be saved for last."
"Because I'm very curious what astonishing words he'll spit out when he faces death."
"Astonishing words?"
A voice cut in, drawing the attention of both Arturo and Gin Ichimaru.
The lake's surface swelled. Water rose, shaped itself, and became a living person.
"A Hollow imprisoned for two thousand years shouldn't mind being caged and studied again," Mayuri Kurotsuchi said, tone light, almost conversational. "I issued the order to apprehend him alive based on that judgment."
He tilted his head, feigning confusion.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Arturo 'Clown' Platedo, who lost due to arrogant overconfidence?"
The arrival of the Research and Development captain, and the blunt clarity of his words, forced everyone listening to breathe again. It was enough to steady minds and make them reassess the situation from the ground up.
"Vice Captain Matsumoto," Mayuri said, not looking away from Arturo, "go bring Vice Captain Kira. We are returning to the Fourth Division."
"Understood!"
With the medical director back in the open, the Fourth Division could finally begin rescue operations with structure instead of chaos. It was like injecting adrenaline straight into the spine of Seireitei.
Even if everyone was battered to pieces, they still had to scrape together enough strength to face a rested mastermind.
"So… is Old Man Yama still going to fight?"
Seireitei outskirts, old street ruins.
Shunsui Kyoraku rubbed at his ears, as if the sheer volume of information had made them overheat.
To be fair, overheating was real. Not just his ears.
His entire body was smoking, like he had crawled out of a furnace. His short jacket was gone. His haori was gone. His shihakusho was charred black, the ash and dust blending into it so thoroughly they were almost invisible.
His face was bruised and swollen. Sword wounds tore open his arms and legs, flesh split wide, blood scorching into dark meat before it could even drip. His eyes were bloodshot, not from emotion, but from heat that had clawed at them for too long.
It was a miserable sight. Far from the carefree rogue he usually was.
"Teacher… the truth is clear now." Jushiro Ukitake's voice sounded like it had been pulled through sand. "Gin Ichimaru colluded with that extreme prisoner to seize the Hogyoku. He intends to destroy Soul Society, and there are conspiracies we still cannot see."
He coughed, and blood spilled again.
"We cannot keep tearing each other apart."
A plea like that, soaked in blood, should have been enough to soften anyone.
Yamamoto Genryusai stared down at Kisuke Urahara, who lay on the ground, seemingly unconscious. Slowly, the old captain commander lowered the right arm that held his blade. Then he turned his gaze to his beloved disciple.
Calling it a cry of blood was almost redundant. Ukitake truly was coughing blood.
Standing against the captain commander while that man carried killing intent was like wrestling hell with both body and mind. Even so, Ukitake still forced himself to activate Sogyo no Kotowari, helping his allies absorb the firepower and easing the burden on everyone.
He used it only a handful of times before Yamamoto tore through it with raw power.
No flourish. No waste.
Only a steel fist, impossibly pure.
It struck Ukitake and drove him to one knee. Blood poured from his mouth, staining his haori red, yet he still stubbornly formed kido, trying to restrain his teacher.
The tenacity was admirable. Using it in the wrong place only stoked Yamamoto's fury.
And so Urahara Kisuke paid the price.
Now he lay on the ground.
If Yamamoto had not sensed Arturo's spiritual pressure, he would have finished off that culprit with a single strike, then turned and dealt with Aizen.
The man who had "escaped calamity" chose that moment to speak.
"Captain Commander," Aizen Sosuke said gently, "please prioritize the overall situation."
"What did you say?"
For a brief instant, Yamamoto's eyes had held something like pity for his disciple. The moment Aizen spoke, that pity burned away.
"You dare speak to this old man about the overall situation?" Yamamoto's voice sharpened. "In your state, have you ever once considered the overall situation?!"
Aizen, thoroughly scolded, did not flare with anger. He adjusted his glasses, a thin crack running through one lens, and offered a bitter smile.
"Please forgive me. It was necessity."
"Otherwise, Captain Kyoraku would not have even dragged in a criminal like Urahara Kisuke just to make up the numbers."
"That's right," Aizen continued, calm as ever. "I did not go easy on him because he helped little Lisa escape Central 46's judgment, and I did not ally with him out of sympathy for Kuchiki Rukia's plight."
"Shunsui…"
Yamamoto glanced at Kyoraku. He saw the dark smile on his face, and something old flickered in Yamamoto's memory. He had no intention of digging it up now.
Click.
The captain commander slid his long sword into its sheath.
All irrelevant topics ended there.
"This ends for now," Yamamoto said. "I will deal with you all later, when I have time."
He snorted and turned to leave.
"Is he still going?" Kyoraku muttered, stunned. "I'm exhausted."
He stared at their teacher, a man covered in wounds who still stood tall and steady.
"Old Man Yama is not only terrifyingly strong." Kyoraku's voice went hoarse. "His stamina is bottomless."
He reached for his straw hat on instinct.
It had been burned to ash at the very beginning.
"Kyoraku… help me up," Ukitake said quietly.
"Coming."
Kyoraku lifted him, and noticed Ukitake's eyes tracking their teacher with stubborn resolve. Kyoraku's eyebrows jumped.
"Don't tell me you're going too."
"I am also a captain of the Gotei 13."
"…An impeccable reason," Kyoraku sighed. "Now I can't even be lazy."
Even so, the two traded a faint smile.
"We came together," Kyoraku said. "You're not leaving without me."
At that moment, Aizen stepped closer.
Perhaps by accident. Perhaps by an accident that was not an accident.
As he passed Urahara, his foot drifted toward Urahara's hand, as if to pin it down.
He missed.
The hand withdrew a heartbeat before the step landed.
Urahara used the motion to push himself up smoothly, like a man waking from a nap.
"No way," he complained with a bitter smile. "Are we really still going? I feel completely broken. I've got no strength left."
"How could that be?" Aizen replied warmly, admiration thick. "Captain Urahara looks quite energetic to me. Having the strength to fight is one thing, but it would not surprise me if you could even turn the tide."
"Captain Aizen thinks too highly of me," Urahara said, still smiling. "I know my limits."
Aizen's voice turned soft, thoughtful.
"The Hogyoku can destroy the existing order."
"And the one who can create the Hogyoku naturally has the ability to destroy the order, or rebuild it."
"I wonder which category Captain Urahara belongs to."
"Perhaps the opposite of Gin Ichimaru, who coveted the Hogyoku?"
Urahara's eyes narrowed slightly. He seemed to think.
"Is that so?" Aizen murmured, as if talking to himself. "One openly creates the Hogyoku, one secretly covets it. One is responsible for destruction, one for rebuilding."
He lowered his voice further.
"Could it truly be such a coincidence?"
Urahara's smile twitched.
He looked up.
Aizen had already followed Kyoraku and Ukitake, chasing after the captain commander without looking back.
What did that mean?
Urahara hesitated, doubt and uncertainty piling up, then made his decision.
He would follow and see.
"Are you going?"
A suspension bridge not far from the Palace of Penitence.
The devastation there could leave anyone speechless. It looked as if a storm had ripped through, a storm made of blades.
Byakuya Kuchiki stared at Ichigo, who was struggling to rise nearby. His lips moved, voice faint.
"Why even ask?" Ichigo ground out, forcing himself up onto one knee, then the other. "Rukia and Orihime's spiritual pressure is over there."
He clenched his teeth and finally stood.
"I don't know if the Hogyoku has been removed. But if the enemy is trying to seize it, they won't treat them gently."
"Reasonable," Byakuya said. Even in severe injury, he forced the words out.
"Kurosaki Ichigo… I want to thank you."
"What?"
"Thank you," Byakuya continued, voice dragging. "For stopping me."
"For not allowing me to hurt Rukia more."
"For letting me, now that I know the truth, taste an even deeper regret. Bone chilling."
Ichigo stared ahead, expression complicated.
They were less than ten meters apart, separated by a broken bridge and the wreckage of the street.
Unlike Ichigo, who had fallen and still managed to rise, Byakuya was standing only because the wall held him up. His back was embedded in the stone. Blood soaked him. His face was pale, the signs of catastrophic injury obvious.
From the crater in the wall and his posture, it was easy to imagine what had happened. A single concentrated blow had shoved him back with nowhere to retreat, forcing him to take the full brunt until he was utterly defeated.
"Kurosaki Ichigo," Byakuya said, "as a defeated general, I have no right to ask anything of you."
"But this is no longer a simple execution."
"The enemy's target is Soul Society."
"A madman like that should have been slain by my hand. But I am too weak to fight."
He drew a slow breath, then spoke the words like a vow.
"So whether it is Rukia, or Seireitei, or the people trapped in this conspiracy…"
"I can only entrust them to you."
Byakuya's sudden shift in attitude made Ichigo feel strangely uncomfortable.
"You really trust me that much?"
Byakuya's eyes did not waver.
"…You are the man who defeated my Bankai with your Shikai."
"It was mutual," Ichigo said bluntly. "I wasn't much better off than you. I just didn't have as many injuries. That's all."
Byakuya's throat tightened.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Your stamina and spiritual pressure were at the limit in our battle," Byakuya said. "Logically, you shouldn't be able to stand again."
"But after hearing the alarm and learning the truth, you…"
"Yeah," Ichigo admitted. "I'm surprised too."
He inhaled hard, gaze sweeping toward the Fifth Division's jurisdiction.
"But I don't think it has anything to do with limits."
"I said I'd protect as many people as I could."
"I said I'd save Rukia, and break this unreasonable execution."
"I don't want anyone pointing at me later and calling me empty."
"If I'm going to collapse here, then I'd rather you beat me into the ground yourself."
The moment he said it, Ichigo's eyes locked onto the soaring firebird. An idea flashed.
The sword in his hand shifted, becoming a black bow.
Ignoring sweat running into his eyes, ignoring the heaviness of his breathing, he gathered power and fired a chained blade toward the firebird.
Then he grabbed the chain.
The arrow, once loosed, pulled him off the ground and hurled him forward at terrifying speed, dragging him into the sky.
Byakuya watched in silence.
Slowly, he closed his eyes.
He no longer doubted this man could finish what Byakuya had been forced to leave undone.
"How about it, kid?"
A figure burst from the woods and landed on a low wall along a main road in Seireitei, moving like lightning.
His speed was extreme, his movement flawless. Yet the most striking thing was the tail of light dragging behind him.
Like a meteor blazing from friction, Takeru's body was wrapped in silvery blue radiance. Reiatsu, active to the point of visibility, streamed behind him as a bright tail flame.
He was about to answer the black cat perched on his shoulder, who was clearly boasting, when he sensed a streak of light overhead with a person hanging from it.
"Brother Kurosaki?"
He recognized Ichigo instantly.
He was not the only one moving.
From the other end of the same road, another group rushed in the exact same direction.
At the front was a man like a beast.
Kenpachi Zaraki.
A small pink haired girl clung to him.
Ikkaku and Yumichika chased behind, not to subdue an enemy, but to stop their captain from doing something stupid.
"Captain, stop right now!" Ikkaku shouted.
"Captain Unohana said you still can't be discharged!" Yumichika yelled.
No reminder was needed. Thick bandages wrapped Kenpachi's exposed chest. He had fought Ichigo yesterday. Those wounds could not possibly be healed already.
Kenpachi simply did not care.
The moment he heard the alarm, he became restless, like an animal smelling blood. He jumped straight out a window at the general treatment center and charged toward the front lines.
He ignored Ikkaku and Yumichika completely.
Then he sensed Ichigo's reiatsu.
"Isn't that Ichigo?" Kenpachi roared, voice splitting the street. "Ichigo! Ichigo!"
Ichigo did not respond.
Kenpachi's eyes snapped toward Takeru.
"Hey. I remember that reiatsu."
"You're the one who rescued the ryoka that day, right?"
"Since Ichigo isn't available, you fight me instead!"
Kenpachi's fighting spirit burned, naked and savage.
Takeru's expression did not change.
The black cat on his shoulder snorted.
"That Kenpachi is pretty smart. He knows if he goes farther, he won't have time to pick a good opponent and fight to his heart's content, so he picked you."
"Don't take the bait. Just go around him. His Shunpo is mediocre. He can't catch you."
They were about to collide at the corner.
If Takeru wanted to avoid being intercepted, he would have to change routes, abandon the straight line, create distance, circle around, and shake Kenpachi off.
It was annoying.
Too much trouble.
Takeru's right hand closed around his sword hilt.
Yoruichi felt the movement and the surge of reiatsu. Her ears flattened, fur bristling.
"This guy isn't someone you can deal with quickly," she warned. "Don't waste time."
"Don't worry," Takeru said. "It won't take long."
A thunderous, abnormal sound rolled from the scabbard.
Yoruichi's pupils tightened. Black and red arcs of lightning appeared. The air warped around them.
The next instant, Takeru drew.
There was no killing intent in it. No hostility. He did not use Only Flash.
He simply poured reiatsu into the blade and swung with the technique of a full power draw, like releasing a sword pressure strike.
Only the result was worlds apart.
A black and red lightning slash tore forward, carrying power that could not be measured.
A sense of crisis exploded through Kenpachi's body.
He grabbed Yachiru by the collar and flung her aside, then tried to release his Zanpakuto.
But that motion made him a fraction too slow.
"Swallow, No…"
He never finished the command.
The slash hit him head on.
Kenpachi vanished from Yachiru's sight in midair, and from Ikkaku and Yumichika's on the ground, launched backward, backward, backward, straight down the road he had come from.
He did not stop after smashing through walls, houses, and towers.
He flew until he slammed into an observation tower several kilometers away, then collapsed with the tower as it came apart.
"Captain!"
It took Yachiru, Ikkaku, and Yumichika a long time to dig him out of the wreckage.
Kenpachi was Kenpachi.
He was not dead.
That owed something to the fact he had managed to brace with his sword, pouring everything into defense and bleeding off power.
Even so, his wounds burst open.
Blood soaked the bandages red, turning the sight grotesque.
Staring at their captain, finally unconscious and finally behaving, Ikkaku and Yumichika exchanged a look and swallowed at the same time.
The injuries were severe.
And yet… a single strike had reduced their captain to this state.
"So much for good luck," Ikkaku muttered hoarsely, eyes flicking toward the sky where the firebird had gone.
An enemy falling from the heavens.
How was that good luck at all.
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