The assignment was simple: hunt down a band of missing-nin encroaching on Mist territory along the eastern marshes. Gengetsu assigned Kenpachi to lead the team—unofficially, of course. The Mist didn't assign monsters, they "observed" them.
Kenpachi was partnered with two others: a sensor-nin from the Kaguya clan, and a Swordsman-in-training named Hoshirō.
The kid couldn't have been older than 11.
He wore the blue flak of the Hidden Mist with pride and carried a basic katana on his back—the kind issued to Academy graduates who showed sword promise. He looked up to the Seven Swordsmen. He idolized strength.
And unfortunately, he thought Kenpachi was one of them.
𓂃𓂃
"Is that your sword?" Hoshirō asked as they moved through the mist-wrapped forest. "It looks… weird."
Kenpachi didn't answer.
The blade on his back—Nozarashi—hummed with a dull ache. It was heavy in a way that felt right. Like a predator too big to be caged.
"I wanna be like you," Hoshirō continued. "Gengetsu-sama says you've killed more enemies than some full Swordsmen. Maybe I can—"
"You can't," Kenpachi said flatly.
Hoshirō blinked. "What?"
"You can't be like me. You don't want to be."
The silence after that lasted until they found the enemy.
𓂃𓂃
The rogue ninja group wasn't elite—but they were smart. Set traps. Laid chakra-sapping mist. Two with Wind affinity, one with a strange crystal release.
They were well-armed. Prepared.
They weren't prepared for Nozarashi.
Kenpachi didn't even draw it at first. He walked straight into the middle of their formation, ignoring the kunai and elemental blasts that peppered the trees around him.
When one of them, laughing, tried to impale him from behind, Nozarashi came alive.
Kenpachi swung.
The sound was like thunder tearing open steel.
One motion. The rogue's body was gone from the chest up.
No seals. No flourish. Just raw, unfiltered chakra-infused steel. The blood hit the trees like paint from a thrown bucket.
The second rogue tried to run.
Kenpachi followed—grinning. Nozarashi dragged through the earth behind him, screaming sparks, singing to the wind like a battle hymn.
The blade cleaved a trench through the marsh.
It didn't just cut.
It consumed.
By the end of the battle, four bodies were scattered across the battlefield in pieces. Hoshirō stood frozen on a branch, face pale, hands trembling.
"Th-that wasn't kenjutsu…" the boy whispered.
Kenpachi looked up at him. "You thought I was a swordsman?"
He laughed, wild and low.
"I'm a killer with a blade. There's a difference."
𓂃𓂃
Back in the inner grounds of the Yuki compound, Yachiru sat quietly in a meditation circle, surrounded by her cousins and retainers.
She was supposed to be learning advanced Ice Formation rituals.
But she stopped mid-chant.
Her eyes opened.
The mist outside the temple rippled unnaturally. Not from weather. Not from chakra.
From 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵.
And not just any killing intent—𝘩𝘪𝘴.
But it was different now.
Sharper. Heavier. Hungrier.
She clutched her chest for a brief second and looked into the distant fog as if seeing through it.
"He's changed…" she whispered.
Her cousin blinked. "Princess?"
She stood abruptly. "Cancel the rest of today's lessons."
"Why? What's wrong?"
She gave them the perfect smile again.
"Nothing," she said, "Just… curious."
𓂃𓂃
In the following weeks, rumors begin to swell—of a cleaver-wielding demon who kills rogue ninja in one strike. Of a blade that carves the battlefield like a god's scythe. Of chakra that hangs in the mist long after the corpses are gone.
The Bingo Book entries are updated again.
And now, for the first time, Nozarashi is mentioned by name:
Kenpachi — "The Man Butcher"
Affiliation: Kirigakure
Danger Level: S-Rank (Avoid Direct Engagement)
Weapon: "Nozarashi" — Unknown Chakra-Reactive Cleaver
Threat Level: If Genin or Chunin encounter, immediate retreat is advised. If Jonin-level, recommend flanking and/or long-range suppression. Do not engage alone.