"Aizen, you go back first."
Akira walked calmly through the crowd and stopped in front of his younger brother.
"Mm," Aizen nodded softly.
"Brother… be careful."
"And—don't kill Shinji-sensei by accident."
Aizen said this with a light tone, but when he glanced at Akira and met his brother's cold, indifferent eyes—eyes like frosted obsidian, emotionless and razor-sharp—something shifted inside him.
That distant heart, filled with a god complex and ruthless calculation, a heart that treated all beings like disposable chess pieces, experienced a ripple.
A small one.
But it was the first.
Is this… what it feels like to be cared for?
To feel warmth? From someone else?
I didn't think I'd ever value something like that. And yet… I'm happy.
"…Tch."
Hirako Shinji's expression twitched in the background.
To an outsider, Aizen's comment might sound like affectionate concern.
But to someone like Shinji—who'd once witnessed Aizen's true nature years down the line—it sounded like a threat disguised in courtesy.
It was as if Aizen had just politely instructed Akira to eliminate him.
"Akira-kun," Shinji raised a brow, still smiling.
"So, what are we doing? Kendo match?"
"Or something a little more exciting… a full-on Shinigami duel?"
Akira responded to Aizen's cryptic "reminder" with only a glance, then stepped forward and stood opposite Hirako Shinji.
"You can do whatever you want."
"I'm invincible."
Shinji grinned broadly, voice playful, but filled with quiet confidence.
Sure, the chantless Bakudō #81: Danku Akira had used earlier had given him a genuine scare—especially the control shown after just three days of Kidō study.
But Shinji was still a captain-level Shinigami.
He could do that too.
More importantly, no matter how impressive Akira's talent was, he was still a first-year student who had been in the Academy less than a week.
You don't become a captain because you're easy to beat.
"Since this is your Kendo class," Akira said, voice calm, "what you had earlier with Aizen was an incomplete kendo match."
"So let's finish what you started."
He placed his right hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutō—and slowly drew it from the sheath with a sharp whisper of steel.
"Okay then!"
Shinji's reply still echoed in the air when he disappeared using Shunpo, leaving behind only a fading afterimage.
He appeared instantly in front of Akira, blade raised high, gleaming with cold Reiatsu.
Zanpakutō in hand, he brought it down in a deadly arc like a blade from the heavens.
The sheer pressure from the swing felt like a mountain collapsing—Reiatsu condensed into the edge, vibrating the very air like a boiling cauldron.
The move was deceptively simple.
A vertical cleave.
In fancy terms: Split Mount Hua.
In honest terms: raise the blade—and cleave.
But when wielded by a captain, even such basic swordsmanship became a force of nature.
Among the onlookers—
Shihōin Yoruichi would've dodged it with Shunpo without hesitation.
Urahara Kisuke, seeing the blow, would've detonated all his tech just to escape.
Byakuya Kuchiki, even with Senbonzakura released, would've seen every petal scattered and shredded under that slash.
That was the gap of Reiatsu.
That was the gulf in kendo.
And when combined… it became something few could overcome.
But—
Clang!!
Akira didn't move.
He raised his Zanpakutō calmly with one hand—from low to high—meeting Shinji's full-force slash head-on.
When their blades collided, the kendo hall thundered.
A massive shockwave erupted from their point of contact.
The wooden floorboards cracked and shattered beneath them, buckling under the Reiatsu collision.
Dust blasted into the air, carried by concentric waves rippling outward from the impact.
From where they stood, it looked like the entire dojo had been hit by a spiritual earthquake.
And yet—
When the dust cleared…
Akira stood where he had been.
Unshaken.
Unmoving.
His Zanpakutō held steady with a single hand.
Shinji's blade, despite the force and pressure behind it, couldn't push forward even a millimeter.
It was like trying to cut a mountain with a kitchen knife.
"Interesting."
Shinji narrowed his eyes, smiling slightly.
"No wonder your little brother told you to be careful."
"But if this is all you've got, then him saying I'd get killed…"
He chuckled.
"That's a bit much, don't you think?"
Hirako Shinji spoke casually, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes—a trace of genuine seriousness that hadn't been there before.
This strike was no weaker than the one he had aimed at Aizen moments earlier.
Yet Akira had blocked it with one hand.
There was no longer any doubt—this boy didn't just surpass Aizen in kendo. Even in pure Reiatsu, he completely overwhelmed him.
"Oh?"
Akira's golden eyes ignited, and an aura of blazing Reiatsu erupted from his body like wildfire.
The spiritual pressure roared to life, golden flames licking across his figure like a living inferno.
He flexed his arm. Reiatsu surged like magma through his blade—and with a single motion, it exploded outward, transforming into a golden crescent slash that carved through the air like a divine judgment.
Boom!
Shinji's face remained composed, but his instincts screamed at him.
He felt the crushing weight behind the attack before it even hit.
His pupils contracted sharply as the shock hit his blade—he was pushed back by the sheer pressure of the slash, unable to stop his retreat.
He was driven backward—a full ten meters.
Before Shinji could regain his footing, Akira had already shifted into a dual-hand stance.
His wrists twisted with expert form, Zanpakutō carving a brilliant arc of light.
He stepped forward with precision, his next swing a clean, devastating downward cut.
"Way of the Sword: Twin Severance!"
The very air trembled, rupturing under the force.
Invisible spiritual particles scattered in all directions were instantly vaporized by the golden wave of Reiatsu, like frost dissolving in a blaze.
BOOM!
Shinji slammed his right foot onto the ground. The impact cracked the floor as his strength pinned him like an anchor into the earth.
He gritted his teeth, clenched his Zanpakutō in both hands, and brought it up defensively just in time.
BOOM!
The golden Reiatsu slash collided with Shinji's blade.
The clash erupted in a violent surge, an untamed tsunami of spiritual pressure flooding outward.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Shinji was blasted backward by the wave, his body flung like a projectile.
Even as he used condensed Reiatsu to form footholds in mid-air and slow himself down, the force behind the slash dragged him along, carving a long trail of dust and wind behind him.
He finally managed to halt himself—barely—after being sent flying more than ten meters.
"…Is that it?"
Shinji tilted his head back and looked down at Akira from mid-air, trying to maintain a superior posture.
But even as he opened his mouth to speak, his expression changed.
His pupils constricted—needle-thin.
"Way of the Sword: Hundred-Step Flying Blade!"
Without anyone noticing, Akira had switched back to a one-handed grip.
He held the Zanpakutō horizontally, pulled it back like a bowstring… and then released it.
ROOAAAAARRRR—!!
The sound tore through the Shino Academy Kendo Hall, the entire Spiritual Arts Academy trembling under the force of the unleashed sword cry.
It wasn't just a slash—it was a sovereign roar.
The Zanpakutō, thrown into the air, was consumed by golden Reiatsu.
Before everyone's stunned eyes, it transformed into the shape of a radiant golden dragon in mid-flight.
The dragon's presence was overwhelming.
It exuded a razor-sharp killing aura—its edges screamed of death and finality.
It soared across the sky like a living weapon, descending on Shinji with claws extended and fangs bared.
"What… is this sword technique?!"
Shinji's voice was strained.
He raised his blade, planting it between the upper jaws of the dragon, and forced Reiatsu out from both feet in a desperate counter.
Spiritual energy surged upward, pushing back against the weight of the closing maw.
But the golden dragon's power slanted downward with an unstoppable arc, forcing his arms and knees to bend, his entire posture collapsing under the sheer pressure.
He couldn't hold it.
Couldn't resist the weight.
His body, unbalanced and overwhelmed, was hurled through the air by the downward force.
He flew from the center of the Kendo Hall all the way to the far rear wall—and slammed into it with a bone-rattling crash.