The ground between them instantly crumbled under the collision, turning into fine powder, with stone fragments scattering in the air.
Cracks spread rapidly from their feet in all directions, debris whipped up by the spiritual pressure, creating a sound like a storm of rocks and earth.
Nearby low-ranking Shinigami were instantly affected, some knocked to the ground by the immense pressure, as if burdened by dozens of times their weight. Their muscles, bones, and organs were stretched by unimaginable force, forcing them to their knees.
Those farther away or stronger low-ranking officers watched in awe, their gazes filled with fear and respect.
For Shinigami, the quantity and quality of spiritual pressure were the purest form of violence.
However…
"Hey, hey!"
"Move aside, let me through!"
As Fujimiya Makoto and Takitori Bakusai faced off, a familiar voice suddenly came from the crowd.
Both turned their gazes toward the sound.
There, Saito, carrying her sword, pushed through the crowd and walked to the edge of their confrontation, glancing at them.
"Hmph."
The girl snorted softly.
Seemingly satisfied that Fujimiya Makoto wasn't being bullied by that bad woman, she turned and walked away as if nothing had happened.
It was as if she had come just to check on him, with no other purpose.
However, before she could speak, Fujimiya Makoto's Zanpakutō suddenly spoke, its voice still childish and casual, echoing in both women's ears.
[Bakusai! Bakusai!]
[What price did you say Makoto-kun had to pay?]
[Using my ability once is exhausting!]
[Hey, you don't want Saito's cute but dumb miss to get to him first, do you?]
[If you want to lock him in your basement, I can help too!]
The moment the voice faded, the expressions of the three in the center subtly changed.
Saito and Takitori Bakusai turned to look at Fujimiya Makoto.
Fujimiya Makoto's eyes widened, his hand gripping his sword sheath tightly, his face turning almost purple, speechless.
You traitorous little Zanpakutō?!
Tonight, I'll turn you into tofu, I swear!
Bakusai looked at him, her usual sickly smile fading slightly, leaning in to whisper:
"Really, Makoto-kun?"
The warm breeze brushed his earlobe, gentler than a caress.
However, this single action instantly enraged Saito, who shouted:
"Makoto——!!"
The next moment, before Fujimiya Makoto could react, Saito dashed to his side with a flash step.
Fujimiya Makoto instinctively tried to defend, but felt his sword sheath pulled, lightening his grip.
He froze.
Saito grabbed two pairs of tabi socks and ran off.
No tabi for you!
"Eh?"
"Saito! Saito?!"
Fujimiya Makoto stared blankly at Saito running away, then turned to Takitori Bakusai, who was covering her mouth and giggling, completely confused.
Scared me for a second.
Thought you were stealing my Zanpakutō!
But…
Why take back the tabi?
Fujimiya Makoto was puzzled.
...
Meanwhile, Saito tightly gripped the two pairs of tabi, leaping into her courtyard.
"Saito-sama?"
Her attendant, Akiko, called out upon seeing her.
Saito suddenly raised her voice: "Get out! No one's allowed in!"
As she rushed into her room, Akiko caught a glimpse of Saito's flushed face.
Hearing her familiar domineering voice, Akiko paused, then quickly obeyed.
"Yes."
However, by the time she responded, Saito had already entered her room.
"Thud, thud."
Saito kicked off her straw sandals, threw the tabi aside, and collapsed on the tatami mat.
Her single eye stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, or perhaps thinking of nothing.
If someone saw her, they'd be shocked.
Saito's cheeks were flushed, her skin hot, as if feverish.
She thought her emotions had calmed.
But the moment she approached that idiot, Makoto, she realized…
They hadn't calmed at all!
"So strange!"
"This is too strange!"
Saito lay on the ground, her mind replaying Captain Unohana's detailed description of Fujimiya Makoto's Shikai.
However, her focus wasn't on 'equal spiritual pressure' or 'fair duels.'
Instead…
"Red and white! Bound with ropes! Silver accents!"
"Not just the body, even the feet are strangely bound!"
"And, different poses…"
Captain Unohana's detailed description in the 1st Division barracks was so vivid that even Saito, not the brightest, remembered every word.
Just the description easily painted an unimaginable picture in the hot-blooded girl's mind.
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
Saito's face grew redder, her hands gripping the tabi, rubbing her forehead on the tatami, trying to shake off the strange thoughts.
"Why didn't anyone tell me this?!"
"Makoto took my socks for that?!"
Imagining the scene, substituting herself into the picture, her feet in her own tabi, Saito felt like dying.
The girl who always called herself 'old' was unexpectedly pure.
Thanks to Captain Unohana's explanation, the usually half-understanding Saito…
Finally got it!
No wonder everyone looked at Makoto strangely when he first held the socks.
Just as she muttered to herself, Saito suddenly remembered something and grabbed the tabi.
On high alert, she carefully placed the tabi on the tatami, lifting and examining them.
They were clean, washed thoroughly, the fabric soft, with no strange marks.
No odd smells either.
This didn't match the 'strange hobby' she had painstakingly gathered from her subordinates.
Saito frowned, then suddenly realized something.
"Hmm?"
...
After the meeting, Genryūsai didn't dwell on Unohana and Fujimiya Makoto's punishment.
Their sentences were light, just to temper their personalities.
Compared to this,
the news of the Soul King's son was far more important.
However…
"If he's the Soul King's son, why was he born in the human world?"
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni murmured, still reviewing the Kuchiki clan's historical records.
From start to finish, there was no mention of a similar event.
Compared to the so-called Soul King's son, there were countless 'rebels' like himself, nothing unusual.
He pondered, turning to Ukitake:
"Jushirō, fetch the Soul King's scroll."
"Yes."
When Ukitake returned, he held a small-looking scroll.
However, when Yamamoto unrolled it, the paper was wide and long.
He wrote a few lines, waited for the ink to dry, then nodded and closed it.
After reporting the incident to higher authorities, Yamamoto instructed: "Jushirō, after the Kidō Corps seal the spatial cracks, don't let them stop. Order them to build underground shelters in various parts of the Soul Society—focus on the Shinō Academy's underground area, no slacking."
Jushirō frowned: "Genryūsai-dono, is the situation in the human world… that dire?"
Yamamoto shook his head calmly: "I don't know."
"But…"
"Since it involves the Soul King, it's best to be cautious."
Jushirō's expression turned serious.
It seemed even Genryūsai had no certainty.
Jushirō once believed Genryūsai was the pinnacle of this world.
But lately, he felt even the strongest were losing value, a depressing thought.
Even someone as resolute as Jushirō couldn't help but envy Fujimiya Makoto's talent.
If only I had Makoto's power and talent…
But in the end, he sighed.
Yamamoto noticed Jushirō's expression but didn't console him as usual, simply watching silently.
Many trials in life could only be faced alone.
...
"Oh~ dear~"
Ōetsu Nimaiya lounged in his palace, sighing lazily.
"So many things have happened in these centuries."
He summoned a copy of the Soul King's scroll with a wave.
Reading the first line, the fat monk's weary eyes turned pure white.
Setting the scroll down, he exhaled heavily, murmuring:
"The 'Anchor' has lasted over a million years."
"It's time to consider maintenance and updates."
"Yhwach… hmm?"