In the chaos of battle, two figures blurred across the field like twin ghosts.
He fled.
The other pursued.
No wings would save him.
Higashi Shuuichi knew the nature of Ichimaru Gin's Zanpakutō too well to allow him close. Distance gave him time to react. Distance gave him life.
Unfortunately, Gin was a prodigy Soul Society hadn't seen in centuries. Under Aizen's tutelage, his shunpo had, in just five years, nearly caught up to a Shinigami who'd trained for over two hundred.
Another thrust—Shinsō pierced through Shuuichi's side, leaving a gaping hole.
"Shuuichi-sama," Gin called, smiling faintly. "Running won't change your fate. The ending is already written."
Good thing his regeneration wasn't linked to his Zanpakutō. The Hōgyoku fragment, embedded deep within his soul, granted him a divine body: a gift of infinite self-repair.
Without it, Gin's relentless Shinsō would've diced him to ribbons already.
"You don't need to bait me, Gin. I know I can't beat your Shinsō with my blade sealed. But then again—you can't finish me off either, can you?"
While keeping the tempo of the fight steady, Higashi unleashed a hidden Tenteikūra, expanding his sensing field. He had to time this right: Kisuke Urahara's arrival, the moment of his own defeat, and the onset of Hollowfication all had to align.
Assuming the timeline remained unchanged, Kisuke would use one of Tessai Tsukabishi's forbidden Kido to travel—he'd appear only where the Hollowfication occurred.
And the report Gin gave? It listed District 62.
That's why Higashi chose District 51—exactly eleven zones away, the farthest edge of his Tenteikūra's range. Enough time for Gin to break him. Enough time for Urahara to find him.
"Shuuichi-sama, don't underestimate me. If I came here, it's because I've prepared for every outcome. I wouldn't fight you otherwise."
"That's what I told Kisaragi Shūsuke... and I'm sure as hell not saying I ever taught you that."
Higashi's voice dripped with venom.
Gin didn't flinch.
"Then let me show you what five years of progress looks like."
His eyes opened wide.
Terrifying.
Unseen by Seireitei for years.
"Bankai—Kamishini no Yari."
In an instant, spiritual pressure surged from Gin like razors, slicing the world in every direction. The blade in his hand dissolved—turning to ash, seemingly harmless.
"It just turns to ash?" Shuuichi stared down at him from above.
Gin's grin widened.
"Sometimes, it's the things below that kill you, Shuuichi-sama."
Shuuichi looked down.
A hole.
A massive cavity bored clean through his chest—and within it, a flicker of gray.
He recognized it immediately.
Gin's poison.
A terrifying agent that dissolved cells in the blink of an eye. Even Aizen, without the Hōgyoku, might've died from it.
But Gin wouldn't go all-out. His goal wasn't to kill.
It was to Hollowfy him.
"Is that all?"
Shuuichi smirked. His body regenerated rapidly. He raised a hand.
"Hadō #90—Kurohitsugi!"
This was the first time Shuuichi had attempted casting a spell in the 90s without incantation. Until now, he'd lacked the control.
But Hell had changed him.
The box of darkness snapped into being, swallowing Gin whole. Tendrils of pressure ripped through space, trying to tear Gin limb from limb.
Shuuichi stepped forward, calm and steady.
Waiting.
Watching.
Until—
Crack.
The black sarcophagus fractured.
Fūzan.
His blade cleaved through the air.
The cut—the very essence of compressed force and soul pressure—screamed toward Gin. This wasn't merely an attack. It was a sword stroke that carried the will of Yamamoto Genryūsai himself.
A single blow that shattered sky and stone.
But Gin wasn't a weakling.
"Mu-Tō—Rendan!"
His blade blurred like a waterfall, stretching, retracting, repeating. A thousand spears of Kamishini no Yari rained from the sky, crashing into Shuuichi's single arc of death.
In technique, Shuuichi prevailed.
In sheer volume, he was outmatched.
Amid the hail of steel, Shuuichi's mind flashed to Coyote Starrk. That overwhelming saturation of firepower... This was no different.
He hit the ground hard—deep crater, bone-deep wounds.
He stood again, barely. Regeneration in overdrive.
Gin frowned.
This was worse than any Espada's high-speed regen.
(Higashi: Then you haven't met the real monsters. I've seen worse... way worse.)
He had to end this. Fast.
Aizen had entrusted him with this mission.
Failure wasn't an option. Not with so much at stake.
"Shoot to kill—Kamishini no Yari!"
Those words fell from Gin's lips like a curse.
And within Shuuichi's body—embedded in every wound, every gash, every pore—the gray poison finally activated.
In an instant, he dissolved.
Nothing left but a head.
Gin descended silently from above, holding the Hollowfication apparatus, aiming it at Shuuichi's face.
"It's over, Shuuichi-sama."
His voice was low, almost mournful.
Was it Rangiku he grieved for?
Or Shuuichi himself?
Perhaps... both.
But Gin had forgotten one thing.
Some Zanpakutō don't require the wielder's hand to release.
Especially not when they were artifacts—passed down by the Five Noble Houses, not born of a soul.
"Watase Higan—Yomi Basara."
The blade on the ground erupted.
Like a field of silver dandelions in bloom, Yomi Basara scattered into countless petals, each shining with deadly grace.
Far away, in the depths of the Tōma estate, a young girl pressed a trembling hand to her chest.
Tōma Sayako.
"Your will reached me, Shuuichi-kun…"
Her whisper was soft, but carried across dimensions.
Gin froze.
"W-What… What the hell is this?!"
He couldn't understand.
This defied all he'd learned—all he'd believed.
The force that surged outward obliterated the ground, a mushroom cloud of spiritual pressure blasting Gin away.
From within the maelstrom, a voice echoed—
"The battle's only just begun… Gin."