Chapter 236: In Flight
As they headed for the Flower Crane Cannon, the atmosphere inside the Shiba Dojo turned strangely heavy, like the air had thickened without anyone noticing.
Yoruichi kept glancing toward Ichigo as if she wanted to say something. Her lips parted once, then closed again. In the end, she let out a quiet sigh, shook her head, transformed into a cat, and darted back into the dojo, as though she could not bear to watch the departure.
Kukaku, meanwhile, kept shooting sharp looks at her younger brother, who was throwing a full tantrum and insisting on following them to the Soul King Palace. Her patience snapped. She actually landed several solid blows on him, each one heavy enough to knock the nonsense out of his skull.
Ganju froze.
He stood there with a dazed, blank stare, looking at the woman whose eyes were almost red, and for a second, he genuinely questioned whether this was really his sister. Or if she had somehow developed some unclear feelings for Ichigo along the way and did not know what to do with them.
Gin and Rangiku did not come at all.
To them, it was just a cannon launch. They would rather spend time together. The distance between them had lasted far too long, and it would take more than a dramatic moment like this to mend it. They needed time, constant refinement, and the slow process of fitting themselves back into the shape they were always meant to be.
Tōsen, on the other hand, followed closely behind.
The man known as the most righteous in Soul Society walked with the group toward the Flower Crane Cannon without hesitation, his presence adding weight to every step. This did not feel like sending someone up for training or experience.
It felt like a procession to an execution ground.
Even Ichigo, eternally optimistic, finally sensed it.
He drifted closer to Kisuke and whispered like he was asking about a taboo.
"Hey, Clogs and Hat. Why does everyone look like that?"
His eyes flicked toward the silent backs ahead.
"It is so weird. We are just going up to the Soul King Palace to take a look, meet the Soul King, and come right back, right? Why does it feel like we are never coming back?"
Kisuke did not slow. He did not even lower his voice, which somehow made his answer more unsettling.
"I advise you to take this seriously, Kurosaki kun," he said calmly. "Going to the Soul King Palace is a serious undertaking by its very nature."
He walked behind Kukaku, composed to the point of being irritating.
"The Shiba Clan was once one of the Five Great Noble Clans that mastered the method of travel to the Soul King Palace. Even after their fall, they remained loyal to His Majesty the Soul King. When the Shiba Clan opens that path, it means the situation has completely deteriorated. We are using an ancient privilege to survive in this world once more."
Ichigo blinked.
"But it is still just dropping by."
"It is different," Kisuke replied without missing a beat. "This concerns ritual and religion. Since matters have reached this point, we must maintain a solemn atmosphere. Only then can the quality of a Shinigami be demonstrated."
He said it with a straight face.
It was impressive, in the way only professional liars could be impressive.
Kisuke took raw emotion, grief that had nothing to do with doctrine, and draped it in eight hundred layers of solemn explanation. He spoke of taboos, of reverence, of the proper attitude for such a journey, until the sadness in the air no longer seemed personal.
It became mandatory.
As if anything else would be disrespectful to the Soul King and the Soul King Palace.
Kukaku, walking ahead, did not respond at all.
Ichigo might be her relative, but the Shiba Clan valued the Soul King more than blood. Since ancient times, they had considered themselves the Soul King's most trusted right hand. When the Soul King was dismembered, the Shiba Clan had been the ones who resisted most fiercely.
Now, with a real chance at atonement, and with a distant relative as the offering, Kukaku intended to send him all the way.
Beneath Ichigo's casual words, the murder unfolded with a frightening sense of normality.
Everyone wanted the Royal Guard's verdict.
Everyone wanted the Soul King Palace to respond.
So everyone made the most rational choice, the coldest one, and called it order.
Kukaku looked bold and generous.
Yoruichi looked careless, yet her concern ran deep.
Kisuke looked eccentric, always holding his folding fan, speaking in odd circles, reliable as stone when it mattered.
None of them revealed the truth.
They simply walked in silence beneath the towering shadow of the Flower Crane Cannon.
No chatter.
No small talk.
Only the weight of a ritual procession, as if speaking too much would crack the fragile mask holding their decision together.
Ichigo, still confused, was ushered into the Tenchūren, the special vehicle used for travel to the Soul King Palace. Kisuke followed him in.
The moment both were inside, a flash of resolve hardened in Kukaku's eyes. She looked up at the Flower Crane Cannon, then dropped her cloak and began chanting a Kidō invocation, loud enough to cut through the stillness.
"Yonder, the copper colored desire seeks thirty six degrees of control. Seventy two pairs of illusions, thirteen pairs of horns, the monkey's right hand grasps the stars. Embrace the twenty five wheeled sun, the cradle of sand is bleeding."
Scarlet flames spiraled around the Tenchūren, forming a crimson ring.
The launch seal.
Only this special Kidō could properly fire the Tenchūren through the Flower Crane Cannon.
As the flames burned brighter, Kukaku cast another Kidō toward the cannon's massive body, her voice sharp as steel.
"Three sparrows' destiny, four dragons' destiny, five directions without a road, six leagues without return. Heaven's Wind, Orangutan, Spoon, Elm Staff, a thousand ashes, a thousand wisdoms, the plan of white clouds. Leaning toward the Great Yin, do not step on the fiery red shadow."
Guidance.
A fixed bearing, a forced trajectory, the only way to reach the Soul King Palace.
Reiatsu gathered.
Spiritual Pressure filled the base of the Flower Crane Cannon, rising in waves, layering onto the massive structure until it felt like the air itself might ignite. It was Kukaku's first time doing this, yet her movements were clean, practiced, as if she had launched it a hundred times already.
She stared into the burning mechanism, jaw clenched, then slammed her fist into the ground.
A pillar of fire erupted upward.
"Flower Crane Cannon, launch!"
The Tenchūren roared.
In an instant, it shot into the sky like a burning star, vanishing into the distance.
Kukaku's lips trembled. She bit down hard enough to draw blood, then sank onto the dirt beside the Flower Crane Cannon as if her legs had finally given up.
Farewell, little brother Ichigo.
.....
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