Hirako Shinji opened his mouth to speak, but something made his expression freeze.
Pata—
A tide of footsteps echoed through the streets.
From faint to thunderous, they came from every direction, and soon, more than two hundred Shinigami, all in black uniforms, converged behind Ran Yan.
They stood silently—rows upon rows—forming a stark wall opposite the Fifth Division barracks.
And among them, three wore the distinctive white haori of captains:
Unohana Yachirū,Shiba Isshin,Sasakibe Chōjirō.
Hirako Shinji's face darkened.
"Captain Unohana. Captain Isshin. Vice-Captain Sasakibe..."
His voice grew colder as he glanced at each.
"What's the meaning of this?"
Particularly toward Unohana, his gaze wavered with unease.
He had once thought the First Kenpachi might be his counterbalance to Ran Yan—but now she stood here, against him.
"I heard there would be a captain's duel," Unohana said gently, "As captain of the Fourth Division, I have a duty to ensure there are no unnecessary deaths. Right, Captain Hirako?"
Her words were smooth.
But everyone knew her past.
Had Yamamoto not suppressed her, she wouldn't be a healer today, but a destroyer of Seireitei.
"What about you, Vice-Captain Sasakibe?" Hirako asked tightly. "The head-captain won't be happy if he hears of this."
Chōjirō answered calmly, "The head-captain sent me."
That reply felt like a sword through Shinji's defenses.
"And you, Captain Isshin?" he pressed.
Isshin stepped forward, voice steady. "Doing this now only brings more disgrace to the Shiba name, huh, Captain Hirako?"
He used Hirako's own words from the Kendo Hall—twisting them back with venom.
"I admit it. I misjudged someone... but it wasn't Aizen."
"I misjudged you."
Hirako Shinji turned toward Ran Yan again.
"You're dangerous," he said flatly.
"More dangerous than Aizen."
Until now, he hadn't been sure—was Ran Yan the mastermind, or just a brother protecting his sibling?
But now, seeing the precision of the preparations, the support from captains, and the execution of the moment…
He knew.
This wasn't the act of a boy.
This was the orchestration of a threat greater than any captain.
"A man more dangerous than Aizen."
Ran Yan met his gaze, unmoved.
"Is that all you have to say in your final hours as Fifth Division Captain?"
There was no anger in his voice.
No urgency.
Just truth.
"Don't speak to me like you've already won," Shinji sneered. "You're not a captain yet. We're equals now."
"And who wins… is still undecided."
Calm returned to Shinji's face. The storm passed. His centuries of discipline reasserted themselves.
"Then let our Zanpakutō decide," Ran Yan said, eyes narrowing.
He had no intention of holding back.
This wasn't about reputation.
This was about removing a failed leader and ascending cleanly, for what was to come.
"Captain Isshin," Unohana said softly, "Would you mind setting the barrier?"
"Of course," Isshin nodded.
A captain-level duel—unrestrained—could devastate Seireitei. Even if it remained a Shikai match, the energy alone would be like a natural disaster.
"Hachi Reppū Shōfū no Jin."
As Isshin knelt and pressed his palms to the ground, an orange cubic Kidō barrier surged upward, encasing both duelists in luminous light.
Hirako Shinji didn't wait.
He had tasted Ran Yan's sword once before, and he would not let that happen again.
He immediately called out:
"Collapse, Sakanade."
The Zanpakutō twisted in his grip—its pommel hollow and ringed, the blade sprouting five small circles near the guard.
A sweet, strange fragrance flooded the air, instantly saturating the sealed battlefield.
Clang.
Ran Yan reached for his sword.
Only to realize his right hand—meant to draw down—had lifted upward.
"Welcome to my inverted world, Ran Yan Sōsuke," Hirako said, his voice laced with amusement.
"Surprised? This is the ability of my Zanpakutō. Up becomes down. Left becomes right. Forward becomes back. Even your slashes and your senses—reversed."
"You're skilled with the blade, yes. But here? Your mastery means nothing."
"I, on the other hand, don't need precision. Even a clumsy swing will drive you into despair."
Ran Yan looked at his hand again.
It had reversed—yes.
But he simply adjusted his footing.
A brief flash of surprise flickered in his eyes, then calm returned.
No fear.
No concern.
Just… analysis.
Sakanade's reverse world?
Noted.
Hirako's grin widened. "What's the matter? Scared to move?"
"Wise. But it won't help."
"In this space, your swordsmanship is meaningless."
"And mine—"
He spun his Zanpakutō once.
"—is a nightmare!"