Chapter Seven: The Training for Bankai

"Teach you Bankai?" Strict Spirit Pill looked at Chojirou in surprise, then let out a derisive laugh, his tone full of disdain. "You should know when to stop joking. Are you just toying with me?"

"I'm serious." Chojirou lowered his head slightly, but his gaze was unwaveringly earnest as he looked at Strict Spirit Pill.

"What exactly are you after?" Strict Spirit Pill asked after a pause.

"You don't believe me?" Chojirou sighed. He was telling the truth, but this spirit's hostility toward him was almost palpable.

Is he really serious? Strict Spirit Pill frowned, scrutinizing Chojirou. Yet, he couldn't detect any trace of jest or mockery in the man's expression—not even a hint.

"Then...what does this mean?" Strict Spirit Pill, for the moment, chose to believe Chojirou; the intruder didn't seem to harbor any animosity toward him.

"The truth is..."

Chojirou harbored deep doubts about Bankai. Its power was indisputable; in the world of Soul Reapers, Bankai and Hollowfication were the ultimate trump cards—excluding, of course, the protagonist's plot armor.

Ahem, that's drifting off topic.

Chojirou shook his head, brushing aside the cluttered thoughts. Bankai represented overwhelming strength, but its form could change depending on how it was used. Take, for example, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi's various forms—Initial Scene, Final Scene, and Ultimate Scene—all of which varied according to Byakuya's intent and method of use.

If that's not enough to illustrate the point, then Yamamoto Shigekuni's Ryujin Jakka is a perfect testament.

East—Blazing Sun Blade: All of Ryujin Jakka's flames and heat are sealed within the sword's edge. There is no burning, no explosive blast—only the utter erasure of whatever the blade touches, leaving nothing behind.

West—Remnant Sun Prison Garb: The body is shrouded in invisible flames burning at fifteen thousand degrees, making the wearer appear wreathed in the sun itself, incinerating anything that comes near.

South—Grand Funeral Array of Ten Trillion Dead: Using the heat of Ryujin Jakka, the ashes of those slain by Yamamoto are summoned to hunt down his enemies relentlessly until they are reduced to dust.

North—Heaven and Earth Reduced to Ash: No excess movement, a single stroke is enough to cleave Yhwach—who had bested Kenpachi Zaraki—in two. Its power speaks for itself.

This was the kind of Bankai Chojirou sought.

He didn't expect Strict Spirit Pill to possess so many forms as Ryujin Jakka, nor did he have the confidence to recreate something as overwhelming as the Grand Funeral Array. But the other forms provided ample inspiration.

"So that's what you have in mind?" Strict Spirit Pill nodded, finally understanding Chojirou's intent. He had to admit, although he knew little about this man, the idea was a good one—not being bound by a single form. If possible, it might even unleash Strict Spirit Pill's power to its fullest, achieving results beyond imagination.

"That's why I want you to teach me how to accomplish this."

If Strict Spirit Pill, as a Zanpakuto spirit, was willing to lend his aid, the process would be far more efficient.

Strict Spirit Pill fell silent. In truth, he realized his hostility toward Chojirou had already diminished, but he had not yet come to accept him wholly. Should he help this man, who had taken his master's place?

"No." Strict Spirit Pill finally spoke. "You are not my true master; I have no obligation to assist you in such matters. However..."

"I won't stand in your way either." Turning, Strict Spirit Pill walked toward the depths of the grassland and soon vanished. "Your actions are your own to decide."

He hadn't refused outright. So long as Chojirou was capable, he would not be hindered in any way. This was a far better outcome than Chojirou had anticipated.

Chojirou smiled, then faded from his inner world.

……………………………………………………

"Gah... So I'll have to rely on myself after all?" Opening his eyes, Chojirou let out a long sigh.

After leaving his inner world, a burden he hadn't realized he'd been carrying seemed to lift from his heart. He was not the real Chojirou Sasakibe. What he feared most was that Strict Spirit Pill would hold a grudge or quietly oppose him. In that case, he would be done for—without his Zanpakuto, he would not last long in the world of Soul Reapers.

Fortunately, though Strict Spirit Pill did not offer his help, he would not make things difficult either. That gave Chojirou the peace of mind to explore the true power of his Zanpakuto.

"But still..." At this thought, Chojirou frowned again.

What, truly, is the power of lightning?

To be honest, Chojirou's understanding of lightning was limited to the idea of a lightning strike—swift and devastating, a bolt so fast that even a master like Yamamoto Shigekuni could only narrowly dodge if he anticipated it. The speed was beyond imagination.

But that was merely one form of attack.

"If I want to master Strict Spirit Pill, I need to fully grasp the potential uses of lightning," Chojirou muttered, ruffling his short white hair in frustration. "But what else can lightning do?"

No matter how hard he racked his brains, he could not find an answer. It was no surprise—before his death, Chojirou had been a background character, only revealing his true strength after he had already died. Which meant that, in truth, Chojirou knew very little about the real Sasakibe.

Even with knowledge of the manga's updates, he was helpless regarding what the story had never shown.

On the journey to understanding Strict Spirit Pill's power, he could only rely on himself.

"Rely on myself?" Chojirou paused, then smacked his own palm. "Wait, why should I rely solely on myself? Don't I have an excellent teacher right here?"

Yamamoto Shigekuni.

As a Soul Reaper whose age no one could guess, he must have a profound understanding of every form and method of attack. If Chojirou could gain his help, there would be nothing he couldn't overcome.

"No."

"Huh?"

Chojirou was dumbfounded. He had never imagined Yamamoto Shigekuni would refuse him so directly.

"Please—wait! Master Genryusai!" Chojirou leapt to his feet, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Master Genryusai!"

"Understand this, Chojirou."

"!"

Yamamoto's expression was stern as he addressed Chojirou. "I am not here to hold your hand and help you with everything. There are things you must accomplish on your own. Do you understand?"

"But—"

"Stop whining!"

Chojirou had never seen Yamamoto so angry before. Startled, he fell silent.

"Why did you come to my side in the first place? Have you already forgotten?"

Chojirou lowered his head, silent.

"As my right hand, it's not my job to teach you everything! Do you not even understand that?"

After his outburst, Yamamoto fixed Chojirou with a piercing gaze, waiting to see how this young man he had come to acknowledge would respond.

"Master Genryusai..." Chojirou murmured softly. Then, with a flash of steel, his Zanpakuto was drawn and swung at Yamamoto.

But who was Yamamoto Shigekuni? His strength was beyond question. Before Chojirou's blade could reach him, Yamamoto had already raised his hand to block the attack.

"Forgive me, Master Genryusai, but you are the only one who can guide me. No matter the method—" Chojirou lifted his head, eyes burning with fierce determination. "I will not give up!"

Yamamoto's eyes narrowed, a cold light glinting in their depths.

"Bringing trouble on yourself, boy."