The Senzaikyū stood at the summit of Sōkyoku Hill, the most magnificent white complex of buildings there. From the side walls of the main hall to the inner walls, everything was constructed from Sekkiseki stone.
Aside from the roof—paved with scale-like orange-red iron tiles—the entire surface of the palace was coated in a pale white finish, giving it an appearance that was elegant and refined, solemn and dignified.
"The execution date of the criminal, Saitō Tsukuyomi, has been finalized for noon, seventy-two hours from now. This is the final ruling. The schedule will not be changed again."
A dark-skinned guard named Rōseki, dressed in a white robe and veil that revealed only his eyes, read out the verdict from the Central 46 to Saitō Tsukuyomi in Cell No. 93 of the Senzaikyū.
"Three days from now…"
Tsukuyomi murmured softly. She looked through the iron bars of her cell toward the blue sky outside and whispered to herself:
"Although I long accepted that this would be my end… I still feel a little regret.
I didn't get to see my little sister again. I didn't get to tell Ichigo 'I'm sorry.' And I didn't get to go back to the Human World to grab a drink with my big brother."
"Hmph, spare me, Saitō! I can responsibly tell you—you're absolutely doomed this time!"
Rōseki sneered and turned to leave the palace. But before he reached the doorway, a sudden hand strike hit him from the side, knocking him unconscious.
"Why is the Ninth Division full of dark-skinned guys?"
Fūjin Taichi withdrew his palm and glanced at the fallen guards around him, unable to resist grumbling:
"No wonder it stung my eyes the moment I walked in. The air reeks like livestock in heat. Disgusting!"
"?!"
Tsukuyomi turned at the commotion and cried out in surprise,
"Big Brother! Why are you here?"
No… you should be calling me 'Great-Grandfather,' Taichi thought silently. If what Urahara said is true, I'm from the same generation as your great-grandmother, Saitō Sakura—Fūma Tsunade!
"Huh? What did you say, Big Brother?" Tsukuyomi asked, puzzled.
"Nothing. I just think it's not safe for you to stay here. I'll get you out first."
As he spoke, Taichi casually sliced through the iron bars of the cell.
"Um… but releasing a criminal without authorization is also a grave crime in Soul Society…"
Tsukuyomi shrank back into the corner, afraid of implicating him further.
"It's fine. The charges against me now are worse than yours. One more won't make a difference."
"Huh? How could that—"
She suddenly covered her mouth and trembled, pointing at the unconscious guards on the ground.
"D-did you… kill them all to save me?"
"Saitō, you've got quite the imagination," Taichi shook his head. "If I'd killed them, that old man Yama would already be hunting me across the world."
With that, he extended his hand, pulled Tsukuyomi into a cross-shaped dimensional portal, and disappeared.
—
Meanwhile, in the underground training ground beneath Sōkyoku Hill, Ichigo Kurosaki knelt on one knee, covered in blood. In his hand he tightly gripped a broken Zanpakutō, panting heavily.
Dozens of meters away, atop a massive rock, stood a solitary, gaunt middle-aged man.
His face was weathered with age. A brown, semi-transparent pair of sunglasses rested on his nose. His body was wrapped tightly in a flowing black robe, the hem fluttering despite the absence of wind.
"Is that all you've got, Ichigo?"
The man asked calmly, hands clasped behind his back, his deep gaze fixed on Ichigo.
"Of course not, Old Man Zangetsu!"
Ichigo spat out a mouthful of blood, wiped the corner of his lips with the back of his hand, then stood up and raised his broken blade again.
"Until I master Bankai, I will never fall! So let's continue the training, Old Man Zangetsu—"
"Oh? Is that so… Very well, as you wish."
The man called "Zangetsu" remained motionless as Ichigo charged at him. Only when the broken blade was about to strike his face did he casually lift his hand and slash diagonally forward—
Slash—
A spray of bright red blood burst from Ichigo's chest, splattering down and quickly staining his feet crimson.
"Ugh—!"
Ichigo groaned, clutching his chest as he collapsed to the ground. The broken sword slipped from his grasp and clattered away.
"Ichigo!"
Seeing Ichigo Kurosaki collapse from his wounds, Orihime Inoue cried out and rushed forward—only to be stopped by Yoruichi Shihōin, who stretched out an arm to block her.
"You can't go over there right now!"
"B-but Miss Yoruichi, Ichigo is badly hurt! I have to heal him!" Orihime said, nearly in tears.
"Absolutely not!" Yoruichi said coldly. "This is the path Ichigo chose himself. Even if it costs him his life, he has to see it through!
"And if anyone interferes now, he may never be able to master Bankai!!"
"Ichigo…"
After hearing that, Orihime forced herself to calm down. Clasping her hands before her chest, she silently prayed: Please stand up, Ichigo!
"Tch… I'm fine, Orihime!"
As if he had heard her prayer, Ichigo suddenly opened his eyes and pushed himself up from the ground.
He casually grabbed a Zanpakutō from the ground and rested it on his shoulder. Wiping the blood from his face with his left hand, he grinned.
"A scratch like this doesn't scare me! Old Man Zangetsu, are you ready to be beaten?"
"Hmph… Ichigo, spare me the empty talk. If you truly want to learn Bankai, then defeat me here!!"
Zangetsu said gravely.
"As you wish—AAAAAAAH!!"
Ichigo roared and charged forward with his blade. Soon the two clashed in a flurry of clang clang and bang bang, their fight echoing through the training ground.
At that moment—
Whoosh—
The air suddenly tore open into a cross-shaped rift. Fūjin Taichi stepped out, pulling Saitō Tsukuyomi along with him.
"Huh?! Saitō—you've been rescued?!"
Uryū Ishida stared at Tsukuyomi in her plain white prison clothes, stunned.
"Long time no see… Ishida! Orihime!"
Tsukuyomi greeted them with a smile, then looked at Ichigo battling Zangetsu.
"Um… what is Ichigo doing?"
"Uh…"
Ishida's face stiffened. He had no idea how to answer. After all, Ichigo was training for Bankai in order to rescue Tsukuyomi—who would've thought she'd be saved ahead of time?
"Hmm? What's wrong?" Tsukuyomi asked again.
"N-nothing. I'm just glad you're safe!"
Ishida adjusted his glasses, then turned to glare at Taichi.
"Hey, Fūjin Taichi. Why are you helping us?"
"Nothing special. Just acting on a whim."
As he spoke, Taichi sprayed the anti–soul implantation reagent he'd received from Kisuke Urahara onto his right hand.
Instantly, his hand and half his forearm turned green—like withered wood overgrown with moss. The sight was deeply unsettling.
At the same time, six tentacle-like appendages of the same color emerged around Taichi and Tsukuyomi. At the tip of each, strange pink currents crackled.
"W-what is this…?" Tsukuyomi murmured, staring at the pink web of electricity forming overhead.
"A protective mechanism designed for spiritual bodies. That way, when I remove the foreign object from inside you, it won't damage your soul."
After a brief explanation, Taichi raised his transformed right hand and gently pushed it through Tsukuyomi's chest—
—and extracted the Hōgyoku hidden within her body.
"Unbelievable… So the Hōgyoku that's caused so much harm is such a tiny thing. But everything has two sides."
Clicking his tongue, Taichi held up the gem, which shimmered with a crystalline blue light. Then he walked over to the still-unconscious Kasumiōji Hoko and spoke softly:
"Then, in the name of Gunala, God of Darkness… awaken, Hoko!!"