"What did you say?!"
Sarugaki Hiyori exploded. Her face turned crimson with fury.
Before anyone could blink, she drew her Zanpakutō with a sharp shing, the glinting tip pointed straight at Shiki Mirai.
Off to the side, Kyōraku Shunsui, Hirako Shinji, and Hikifune Kirio exchanged amused glances and, with perfect synchronicity, all took a few steps back—making just enough room for the brewing storm. None of them made any move to intervene.
Shiki's face was like still water, his voice calm but edged with ice, cutting through the air clearly:
"First—your Zanpakutō is your most important partner. It is your blade to cut down enemies…"
His tone grew colder.
"…and your shield to protect allies. To draw it against a fellow Shinigami is foolish and irrational."
"When you do that, it means you no longer see your comrade as someone to protect—but as an enemy."
"I'm not a full Shinigami yet!" Hiyori shouted back, gripping her blade with shaking fists.
Shiki's gaze didn't even ripple.
"Then the moment you chose to draw it… you should have been prepared to be cut down."
With those words, he calmly raised his right hand—index finger extended—aiming it unceremoniously at her forehead.
The gesture was insulting in every way.
"So arrogant!"
"He's just a 5th Seat…"
"Teach him a lesson, Hiyori!"
Murmurs of barely restrained outrage stirred among the graduates.
Hiyori's eye twitched. She bared her teeth, revealing two sharp canines, and roared:
"Of course I know that, you bald bastard!"
"…Bald?" Shiki's expression blanked.
An eerie silence fell over the training ground.
"Pfft… Pfft—Hahahaha!" Kyōraku Shunsui was the first to lose it, clutching his sides. "Shiki, my boy… she just called you bald… Hahahaha!"
"Hahaha! That's perfect! He is totally a smug bald guy!" Hirako slammed a hand on his thigh, laughing like a lunatic.
For context—Shiki was known throughout the Gotei 13 for his looks. Clean-cut face, a messy black ponytail tied loosely behind his head, that lazy, moody aura… he was the very picture of a handsome noble.
Female Shinigami blushed at the sight of him. Some even slipped him handkerchiefs.
And now, in public, this tiny girl had called him bald.
It was unheard of.
A pulsing vein throbbed visibly on Shiki's forehead—but he took a deep breath, forcing his composure to hold.
"So you understand the consequences. And yet, you still chose to draw your blade…"
"Then be ready to face them."
"Blah blah blah! Just shut up and fight already!"
Hiyori gripped her Zanpakutō with both hands, tip raised and eyes locked on that damned pointing finger, a growl building in her throat.
First thing she'd cut was that smug finger.
"Fight?" Shiki's tone was so calm it was almost bored. "You? A finger is more than enough."
"You—!!"
Blood rushing to her head, Hiyori let out a primal scream and raised her blade high, pouring every ounce of strength into her swing.
"Die already!!"
But with a mere tilt of his body, Shiki let the strike pass clean past him, not even brushing his sleeve.
"Not bad," he said, his voice ghosting by her ear, "You knew to go all-out after drawing your blade."
"But…"
"You say you understand—but clearly, you don't."
"To face an enemy, you need the intent to kill."
"Did you think this was a spar? A school exercise?"
"Shut up, bald bastard! Bald bastard! BALD BASTARD!"
Her vision blurred with rage. All reasoning drowned beneath the tide of fury.
She struck wildly—sweeping, stabbing, hacking, a furious whirlwind of motion.
And yet, Shiki moved like drifting silk—his body flowing between the strikes with minimal effort, never resisting, never faltering.
And through it all, that damnable finger remained pointed at her forehead, a fixed, silent insult.
"Woah…"
"She can't land a hit…"
"So this is what a real seated officer can do…"
The graduates looked on, stunned. Their earlier frustration faded into awe.
They had thought Hiyori was strong—and she was. But now, standing against a true officer, she looked powerless.
Yadōmaru Lisa adjusted her glasses, eyes wide with disbelief.
She knew Hiyori's combat skill and Reiatsu. Easily at the level of a seated officer.
And yet… she couldn't even graze his uniform?
So this is what it means to be a seated officer… Maybe I've been overestimating myself…
Beside her, Kyōraku Shunsui glanced at his Vice-Captain with a small smile and whispered:
"Don't take it to heart, Lisa-chan. You're already very talented. You might not be at Vice-Captain level yet, but you're more than qualified for 5th Seat—Hiyori too."
Lisa glanced up in surprise.
Kyōraku continued with a chuckle, "That guy, Shiki… he's already at Vice-Captain level. Honestly, he's among the strongest even among Vice-Captains. Watching him fight? You'll learn a lot."
Lisa nodded slowly, her gaze sharpening again as she turned back to the duel.
On the side, Hirako Shinji scowled inwardly.
Shiki, huh. Just Vice-Captain level?
His eyes drifted toward the ever-smiling, brown-haired Aizen Sōsuke.
That guy gave off a danger far beyond any Hollow. His instincts had never screamed this loudly—not even against a Gillian.
And Shiki?
Shiki didn't give off danger. He gave off nothing.
Which was, perhaps, even worse.
Someone who can stay close to Aizen without being consumed… can't be simple.
Too bad… Hiyori's not going to force out his full power today.
Already, Hiyori's attacks were slowing. Her breathing turned ragged.
Shiki noticed instantly, his tone cutting and cold.
"What's wrong? Out of breath already? You think this kind of performance is enough to swagger around in the Gotei 13?"
"SHUT! UP! BALD BASTARD!!"
With a final scream, she clenched her Zanpakutō and a powerful surge of Reiatsu burst from her small body like a shockwave!
The force howled across the training field, sending uniforms rippling and sand scattering.
"W-What is this pressure?!"
"She's going to use her Shikai?!"
"She's one of the three students who unlocked it this year!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Hiyori bent her knees, then exploded upward into the air—her spiritual pressure flaring to its peak.
Her Zanpakutō's shape began to change, swelling into a wild, beast-like blade pulsing with primal energy.
"Chop Cleanly, Kubikiri Orochi!"
Shikai, released.
Her Reiatsu multiplied—five, six, seven times stronger. Like a mountain crashing down from above, she dove toward Shiki, blade gleaming.
But Shiki?
Still expressionless.
Sevenfold amplification… not bad. Definitely promising.
Most Shikai only boost power three to five times.
But… still not enough.
He opened his mouth, and amid the howling spiritual pressure, his voice rang clear:
"End of winter—plum blossoms."
Reishi began to spiral around his fingertip—pure, icy blue, gathering rapidly.
The air turned freezing.
Faint ghostlike silhouettes of crystalline plum blossoms bloomed around him in midair.
"Thunder cracks the heavens—Lightning fall upon the bough."
In the next breath, golden lightning overtook the blue.
Each plum blossom at his side ignited—lightning dancing at its center, like birds perching on frost-covered branches.
Lisa stiffened in shock.
"Th-That chant… Is that Kidō?! I've never seen it in any textbook!"
Kyōraku smiled, adjusting his hat.
"We haven't either, Lisa-chan."
"Tch… This brat always has to show off with his 'original creations'." Hirako scoffed, but deep in his eyes, a sliver of seriousness flashed.
In the center of the field, Shiki completed his incantation:
"Now bloom—"
All the golden lightning condensed, the blossoms shrinking and spiraling into his fingertip.
A single, blinding point of light.
"Hadō: Raimei Ume Shinka!"
Zzzzzap—!
A golden bolt burst from his finger.
It spread wide in the air—unfolding like a flower of lightning, a massive plum blossom forged of pure, destructive thunder.
It shimmered with devastating beauty—blooming upward just as Hiyori descended.
BOOM—!!
The impact roared.
Golden lightning scattered in wild arcs.
Hiyori let out a sharp cry before her body was thrown from the sky—slamming hard into the training field.
Her blade reverted, dropping with a dull thud beside her.
She twitched… but couldn't rise.
Silence.
Every graduate stared, dumbfounded.
In the middle of the field, Shiki stood quietly—his finger still extended, his robes fluttering in the breeze.
Expression calm.