The shinigami guarding the Eleventh Division didn’t find it strange that Fujimoto Tōma had co looking for Zaraki Kenpachi.
After all, this was the Eleventh Division.
The battle division.
If soone ca here and wasn’t looking for a fight, that would be the strange part.
Before long, Tōma spotted Zaraki Kenpachi, with Madara Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika nearby.
The scene made his expression turn... odd.
Because Ikkaku and Yumichika were teaching Zaraki.
And Kusajishi Yachiru was cheering enthusiastically from the sidelines.
No matter how he looked at it, the picture felt completely upside down.
Only then did Tōma realize the truth.
Zaraki wasn’t in his spiritual body at all. He was using a gigai.
And Ikkaku and Yumichika weren’t coaching swordsmanship. They were lecturing him on restraining his chakra so he wouldn’t crush the artificial body.
With Zaraki’s pressure, even a slight excess would shatter it.
"Eh? Little Tōma, you’re here again!"
Yachiru waved happily when she noticed him.
"What... exactly is this?" Tōma asked, watching Zaraki fumble awkwardly, his eye twitching.
"Hehe! You said before that Kenny’s control was awful, right?" Yachiru said proudly. "After we went to the Living World, Kenny figured out that using a gigai helps him practice control, so he asked the Twelfth Division to make a special one!"
"...And when did I beco Little Tōma?" Tōma asked flatly.
"Huh? You don’t like it?" Yachiru tilted her head, eyes wide and sparkling. Pink hair, small fra, deliberate cuteness turned up to the maximum.
Tōma stared for a second, then sighed.
"Do whatever you want."
"Hehehe!"
Her grin was imdiate.
At that mont, Zaraki finally noticed Tōma.
His face twisted into a feral grin.
The gigai exploded.
With a loud bang, it shattered into fragnts as Zaraki reappeared in his true form, sword already in hand.
"Tōma!" Zaraki roared. "Fight !"
Yumichika clutched his head, staring at the ruined gigai.
"...Great. That’s another one I’ll have to beg the Twelfth Division for. They already hate ."
"Can’t be helped," Ikkaku shrugged. "That guy showed up."
"You’re not the one who gets lectured!" Yumichika snapped. "They only scold !"
He turned back to Zaraki helplessly.
"Captain, if you fight here again, you’ll get punished and sent to the Living World."
"So what?" Zaraki laughed wildly. "A fight shows up and I don’t answer it? Impossible!"
"...Have you ever considered," Yumichika said dryly, "going sowhere empty so you can fight without punishnt?"
Zaraki froze.
He stared into space for a few seconds.
"...That’s actually a good idea."
Tōma nodded. "Don’t worry. We have a place."
Zaraki’s eyes lit up. "Perfect! Where? Let’s go now!"
"Only you," Tōma said. "No spectators."
"Huh? Little Tōma, I can’t co?" Yachiru pouted.
"No."
Zaraki patted her head. "Yachiru, wait here. I’ll be back soon."
"...Okay."
Ikkaku and Yumichika looked disappointed, but didn’t protest.
"By the way," Tōma asked, "where’s Abarai Renji?"
"Training elsewhere," Ikkaku replied. "Ever since Kuchiki Byakuya beca a captain, Renji’s been pushing himself like crazy."
Tōma nodded.
He understood.
Renji wanted to beco a captain too. Only then could he truly stand beside Kuchiki Rukia again.
"Co on," Tōma said, turning. "Let’s go."
They descended into the deepest level of the Central Underground Prison.
Muken.
Zaraki stared at the endless darkness in awe.
"So there’s a place this big down here?"
"Soone brought once," Tōma replied. "For a fight."
Zaraki grinned. "Old man... or Captain Unohana?"
Tōma glanced at him.
Zaraki called Yamamoto "old man," but still used "Captain" for Unohana.
Respect, plain and simple.
"Unohana," Tōma said.
"So you beat her," Zaraki laughed. "Guess that ans you’re strong."
"Yes," Tōma replied calmly. "I won."
That only made Zaraki more excited.
Unohana had defeated him once, fair and square.
And Tōma had done the sa.
That was why Zaraki listened to him. A loser had no right to command the strong.
Tōma stepped forward, hand resting on the hilt of ikyō Shisui.
"Let’s begin."
Zaraki laughed and tore the eyepatch from his face.
Holding back now would be insulting.
His chakra exploded, filling Muken with overwhelming pressure.
Tōma nodded. Compared to before, he no longer needed to release his own pressure to match it. His compression was nearing its limit now. He stood comfortably above it.
Zaraki noticed.
"...You got stronger."
His grin widened.
"Good!"
He swung.
A massive golden blade of chakra tore through the air.
Tōma lifted his sword lightly.
A white slash appeared from nothing, colliding head-on.
Gold and white flooded the void.
When the light faded, the two were already locked together at the center, blades clashing countless tis in an instant.
Last ti, Tōma had ended things quickly.
This ti, he didn’t use any forms.
Just raw swordplay.
Even so, Zaraki couldn’t overpower him with brute strength alone.
"Hahaha! This is great!" Zaraki shouted. "Why aren’t you using that fire move?"
"Your goal," Tōma replied calmly, hands numbing from the impact, "is to force to."
Zaraki laughed louder. "Deal!"
They fought like beasts.
Every collision sent shockwaves through Muken. Even simple strikes detonated like explosions.
Hours passed. Maybe days.
Ti didn’t matter here.
Both still stood.
Zaraki’s uniform was shredded, soaked in blood. His skin was red, though whether from wounds or sheer heat was unclear.
Tōma looked better, but his clothes were torn as well. His wounds closed almost as fast as they were made.
He realized it then.
His recovery wasn’t much worse than Zaraki’s.
And Zaraki’s blade was growing sharper.
Near the end, even Tōma couldn’t avoid every strike.
But for every cut he took, Zaraki took hundreds.
That Zaraki still stood was terrifying.
"Again!" Zaraki roared, arms spread wide, smile unbroken.
Tōma laughed, exhilarated.
This kind of fight awakened sothing primal.
"Co on!"
Zaraki didn’t answer.
His body swayed.
Then, with a thunderous crash, Zaraki Kenpachi collapsed.
...
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