Chapter Eighty-Eight: Transformation

“That fight just now was rather impressive.”

Chojiro looked past Byakuya’s shoulder. At this distance he could only make out a tiny black speck, and from there still sense the faintest fluctuation of spiritual pressure. It seemed the man was not dead after all.

Well, if he had died, that would have been troublesome.

Secretly baring his teeth in his heart, Chojiro failed to notice that Byakuya’s expression was growing uglier by the moment.

“Seeing your subordinate fight so desperately, do you have any thoughts?”

With an idle shrug, Chojiro’s tone was as infuriating as it could possibly be.

“It seems… if I am to make it to the execution in time, I will have to put in a little effort.”

Slowly drawing the sword at his waist, Byakuya had already decided to fight the man before him.

“Don’t be in such a hurry to start, little Byakuya.”

Pretending to be frightened, Chojiro waved his hands, then shook a finger at him.

“There is still one thing I absolutely must do. But it seems the time for it has not yet come, so I am only here to pass the time.”

“…”

Byakuya’s brow furrowed.

Pass the time?

A reason like that gave no clue at all as to what intentions this man had in coming here. If he was an enemy, then he should be crushed with all possible force. If he was an ally, then there was no need to strike.

Impossible to tell…

Did that mean he was stalling for time?

“Put away such pointless suspicions.”

Chojiro stated aloud exactly what Byakuya had been thinking. Those calm, rippleless eyes seemed to see straight through his heart, sending a faint chill over him.

“You… do not understand?”

Chojiro’s voice suddenly turned exceedingly cold, as though he were speaking to a stranger, frigid to the bone.

“What the consequences would be…”

“If you crossed blades with me.”

“Or perhaps…”

His hand came to rest on the hilt, and in an instant his entire presence swelled into something immense.

“Now that you have become a captain, has your confidence risen into arrogance?”

“—!”

On full alert, Byakuya immediately drew his sword, and only then did his body, shaken for an instant, regain its steadiness.

What is this…

A bead of cold sweat slid down Byakuya’s face.

That pressure—merely that pressure had forced me to draw my blade by reflex. The spiritual pressure I sensed from the Third Division before was nowhere near this powerful. Could it be that even in that battle he was still concealing his true strength?

“Oh… so you drew your sword?”

Casting only a faint glance at Byakuya, who stood in focused readiness, Chojiro did not remove his hand from the hilt.

“Knowing how to use your stance to block the pressure your opponent exerts on you—this is what I taught you in the beginning.”

“You have mastered it rather well.”

“…”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes, and his figure vanished from where he stood.

Clang!

At some point Chojiro had drawn his blade. He held it directly behind him, not even turning his eyes backward, and neatly blocked the thrust of Byakuya’s sword.

“Using rotation in combination with a specialized flash step to circle behind your enemy, then pierce and destroy the Chain of Fate and the Soul Sleep.”

“Flash Blossom was the first technique I taught you. Did you really think it would work on me?”

His voice never rose or fell. From beginning to end, Chojiro never once looked at the Byakuya behind him.

“…”

A helplessness he had never before known swept over Byakuya in an instant. To resist the pressure that man placed upon him, Byakuya directly released his Zanpakuto.

With a sharp rush, countless cherry-blossom petals burst forth as the blade vanished from Byakuya’s hand, covering the heavens and pressing down upon Chojiro in a storm.

Without even sparing a glance for those beautiful blades, lovely as flower petals, Chojiro’s figure disappeared from Byakuya’s sight.

Silently, Byakuya turned his gaze toward the man now standing atop a nearby building, and a complicated light flickered in his eyes.

How long had he admired him?

When he was still very young, this man had come to the Kuchiki household at his grandfather’s request, charged with his instruction. Spiritual pressure, swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, flash step, kido—every technique that might one day become useful in battle had been taught to him without reservation.

He was a presence like a revered master.

That lofty figure in his eyes struck straight at Byakuya’s heart.

I admired him.

All this time I have continued striving, training myself with the goal of surpassing him, hoping that one day I might become strong enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

Receiving my own Zanpakuto, mastering Bankai—through all of it, he alone was the one I had to surpass…

But…

But why…

Byakuya bit down hard, unwillingness burning within him. Proud as he was, this was the first time he had ever shown such an expression.

He had inherited the Kuchiki house, become a captain, and yet that man remained just as—

Lofty beyond reach!

A sudden powerlessness welled up in Byakuya’s heart. He could no longer even feel unwillingness; it was the helplessness of knowing that even with centuries, perhaps a thousand years of effort, he still could not surpass him.

That man had always remained ahead of him.

“Oh… those two have already left the infirmary?”

He sensed spiritual pressure from afar—that of the two captains he had personally sent to the Fourth Division before: Sajin Komamura and Kaname Tosen.

If they dragged their half-healed bodies into a fight against that monster Kenpachi Zaraki, then even two against one would likely leave them with no fate but slaughter.

At last, it was nearly… time.

Excitement stirred in Chojiro’s heart.

What sort of scene would it be, speaking with him directly?

“Hmph. That can wait until the time comes.”

As if muttering to himself, Chojiro swept aside the clutter of thoughts in his mind and lightly leapt down from the building.

Looking at Byakuya, whom he himself had first guided through the gate, Chojiro’s lips curved slightly.

He was not like Lord Genryusai, so fond of such violent methods of instruction. For this captain, who could be counted as his disciple, Chojiro loosened his grip on the sword hilt.

At once, the overwhelming pressure that had dominated the entire field vanished with it.

“!”

He was not going to fight?

Byakuya froze.

The atmosphere of naked hostility that had existed between them only moments before vanished as though it had never been there at all, replaced in an instant by something entirely different.

“Put away your sword, little Byakuya.”

Chojiro slowly walked past him, unconcerned that Byakuya’s blade remained in its released state.

“You no longer need my guidance.”

“!”

Byakuya suddenly turned around. Looking at Chojiro as he passed by, he opened his mouth, yet not a single word came out.

“If you go to Sokyoku Hill now, you will still make it in time. I too am on my way elsewhere.”

“W-wait…”

Byakuya reached out, wanting to seize Chojiro, but suddenly he realized that the distance which had seemed close enough to touch a moment before had now become immeasurably far.

“There, you will find what you seek, little Byakuya.”

Chojiro’s figure gradually blurred, then vanished, yet his voice still reached Byakuya’s ears with perfect clarity.

“When you have transformed there, let us have a proper match. I am looking forward to it.”