So you see, after doing the truly devious thing he did with Rukia in that subspace—only after her body stopped shaking from orgasm—yes, he could do a divergent fist backshot. Stroke doesn't come till way later.
A delayed stroke, one might even say—past, present, and future all combining their stroke into one. Wonder what to call it.
You may have heard those words before, but let me teach you what they really mean... go beyond... plus... ULTRA.
Hm, maybe All Might wouldn't care much. His slogan was being used for this. For being kind, Sora might even throw a Spider-Man into his universe.
But considering Author is currently getting rawdogged, probably wouldn't be there for a while. Oh well.
He tried.
Anyway, Sora would now be seen next to his brother-in-law.
Hm...
Byakuya Kuchiki sat at the table like a statue carved from dignity and judgment. White scarf. Perfect posture. Teacup held with aristocratic poise.
Across from him was a different creature entirely—Sora. Legs crossed lazily, hair unbrushed, face suspiciously glowing with the smug afterglow of someone who had done things.
Horrible, delicious, terribly un-brother-in-law-appropriate things.
But not that Byakuya could prove anything.
Yet.
"So," Byakuya began, his voice colder than the edge of Senbonzakura. "You seem... well-rested."
Sora blinked, wide-eyed. Too wide-eyed. The face of a guilty man pretending to be a man who didn't have burn marks on his neck from a petite lieutenant.
"Do I?" Sora said, smiling sweetly. "Maybe it's the weather."
"...The weather."
"Yep. Great moonlight last night. Just perfect for, you know... meditation. And, uh, quiet reflection. Alone. Definitely alone."
Byakuya's stare narrowed infinitesimally.
"I see."
Sora sipped his tea loudly to fill the silence. "Mmm. Jasmine. Nice."
Byakuya said nothing. Just... kept looking.
Sora shifted. He shouldn't feel nervous. He's faced gods, monsters, and had to face Satan with Kid Buu mentality. He in fact didn't think someone could be so much of a sis-con.
Like come on, man, let a man smash in peace.
"I trust my sister's quarters were peaceful?" the noble asked calmly—almost innocently.
Sora choked slightly.
"I—I wouldn't know!" he coughed. "Didn't go in. Why would I? She has walls and stuff."
"She does."
"Exactly. And I respect walls. I'm a big fan of boundaries. Like—physical, emotional, metaphysical... bedsheets."
...Wow. Sora was fumbling. Bad. He needed to think of something.
"...Bedsheets."
"W-What? No! I meant boundaries! Not—uh—there were no sheets! I mean—there were—BUT NOT LIKE—!"
Byakuya raised one graceful brow.
Sora froze. He'd played himself.
Time for emergency deflection.
"Hey, did you know Shinji owes me ten billion yen?" Sora blurted out.
Byakuya didn't even blink. "A distraction will not save you."
"Save me from what?"
"Your own guilt."
Sora put a hand on his chest, faux-offended. "I'm hurt, nii-san. I would never do anything unbecoming with your sister. I'm the definition of decorum."
As if he wasn't several inches deep within this man's sister not just three hours ago. Yes, it was still quite recent. He was planning to take a shower to do his stuff when he was invited to this tea party.
"...You smell like lavender and sin."
"That's slander," Sora sniffed. "Could be anyone's shampoo. Could be Uryu's."
You see this... this is where he fumbled. Because Byakuya knew exactly what kind of man Sora was, and he knew how Sora and Uryu's relationship worked.
All of this to say—there was no way Sora would use Uryu's shampoo if it wasn't for a prank.
Speaking of Uryu, he was probably in the human world getting ferocious neck right now, but we do not talk about that.
And Byakuya knew that.
Sora wilted slightly. "Okay, fine. We cuddled."
"..."
"Innocently! Fully clothed! With... eye contact."
Byakuya stared harder.
Sora grinned, cracking slightly. "Okay, semi-clothed. But nothing crazy! Just... whispering... forehead kisses... and body worshipping—wait. Nope. That was a dream. I dreamed it."
"You're confessing in real time."
"I'm hallucinating. This is a hallucination."
Byakuya set down his teacup with slow, deliberate menace. "Sora."
"Yes, dear brother?"
"If you impregnate my sister, I will castrate you using Senbonzakura, from the inside out."
Sora froze.
"...Wow. That was graphic. Beautifully poetic. But horrifying."
"Thank you."
"Can I at least name the baby?"
"No."
"Can I hold the baby?"
"You can hold the regret of your actions."
Sora pouted, finally relenting. "Alright, fine. Maybe I was several inches into the realm of divine cuddles last night, but that's as far as I'll confirm under spiritual law."
Byakuya sipped his tea. Calmly. Murderously.
Sora leaned back, smiling sheepishly. "Still friends?"
"We were never friends."
"Family?"
"...Unfortunately."
"Cool. So I'll be back in her bed tonight."
Byakuya didn't respond.
But the teacup cracked in his hand.
"Aw come on, it's fine. She is a grown adult, she like 100-something, it's fine," he said, leaning back—then realizing there was no chair. Oh yeah, this wasn't the human world he was used to.
Byakuya was such a meany.
"If we really think about it, technically I am basically the Soul King. Shouldn't you, like, feel honored to have me here..."
"BANKAI..."
"I apologize for my outburst," Sora said, bowing his head.
Yes, he knew—random comment #27. He knew he was stronger than Byakuya and thus didn't need to act like this.
However, that didn't really change shit. He was her brother, and Sora was just showing proper respect. Plus, he was still himself. Just because he got power doesn't mean he would start acting different and snaking people.
Like come on, if you wanted an emo MC, there's plenty of Naruto stories out there with that. I'm sure you can find them under MC will steal other people's women but his women won't leave him kind of stories.
He was Sora, and he would not change just because he got a bit of power...
...he says, as now he was the strongest thing alive here.
Well, this story ends in roughly 5 to 10 chapters, so time for him to step this shit up. Let's see his goals:
Somehow kill Yhwach or befriend him.
Make Soul Reapers and Quincy ally themselves.
Protect the Fullbringers.
And a side plot about visiting the other realm, but since he was low on time, the other realms will be showcased in the other guy's story, while in this, they get a brief mention.
Then he was done... and yes, there was his kid thing. Cool.
He could do this.
Aight, may the speedrun start.
....
Special addition.
The voice came from the cashier. Flat, deadpan, with the kind of energy that said, I fought Aizen once and now I'm working minimum wage.
Ichigo blinked.
"...Shinji?"
Standing there, behind the register, wearing the red and yellow cap of capitalism's golden fortress, was Hirako Shinji—blond bowl-cut and all.
He looked emotionally hollow.
No, not Hollow, just... spiritually bankrupt.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Ichigo asked, blinking like his brain had just blue-screened.
Shinji sighed, voice low. "...Community service."
"What community?" Ichigo muttered.
Then—he heard it.
"Table two needs a Big Mac and three nuggets, dammit!"
Lisa Yadomaru marched past in full uniform, slamming a tray down and muttering about how her entire spiritual lineage had been disgraced.
"I just killed a Menos Grande three days ago," she said to herself.
Ichigo turned again.
Hiyori was back there too—cleaning the deep fryer with her bare hands.
"Y'all better not be complaining, or I'm throwing your ass in the fryer next!" she barked.
Kensei was grilling burgers like they were Hollow hearts.
Mashiro was stuffing ketchup packets into people's bags like it was her full-time ninja mission.
Rose was on guitar, playing live "J-pop Jazz Fusion Remix #73: You Want Fries with That?"
Renji, wearing a paper hat and suffering, was dragging a mop across the floor like it was Senbonzakura.
"I fought for my goddamn life during the battle and now I'm mopping up ketchup footprints," he said, eyes dead.
Ichigo turned back to Shinji.
"...Why are all of you here?"
Shinji sighed and leaned on the counter.
"Remember that time Sora lent us 'just a couple thousand yen'?"
Ichigo nodded slowly.
Shinji raised one finger. "That was three hundred years of interest ago."
Ichigo blinked. "...Wait, how much do you owe him?"
Renji slid up beside Shinji, holding a receipt that looked longer than Urahara's disciplinary record.
"About 57 billion yen. Collectively."
Ichigo choked.
"WHAT?!"
"Compound interest, baby," Shinji muttered bitterly. "We were two days late on the first repayment."
Rose strummed a tragic chord in the background.
"None of you thought to just fight him?" Ichigo asked incredulously.
Shinji looked him dead in the eyes.
"Sora killed a butterfly last week and the concept of flight vanished for ten minutes."
"..."
"I'm not fucking with that man."
"Yeah, no," Renji added. "We just flipped the McDonald's Sora had marked as a tax shelter. He gets 70% of our wages."
Ichigo's jaw dropped. "So you're all working to pay him back?"
Mashiro threw up a peace sign from the back. "I got my debt down to 1.3 billion!"
Hiyori chucked a nugget at her.
Ichigo took a deep breath. Then looked at the glowing menu.
"...Can I still get a McDouble?"
Shinji nodded solemnly. "That'll be ¥650. And your dignity."
He pressed a button.
A bag floated out of the kitchen like a funeral offering.
Rose strummed again.
A/N The title is what Sora wanted to say but couldn't for reasons