No Cheat in Bleach ? Watch me help Aizen then. Chapter 87: Madarame Ikkaku: "You Look Pretty Strong"

Higashi Shuuichi opened his eyes and realized he was lying flat on the ground.

Mind and body, both consud by exhaustion.

He had just finished another battle with his Zanpakutō spirit in his inner world. This ti, he'd done well—only died 619 tis before finally overwhelming his blade enough to be kicked out of the ntal realm.

"One day, I'll defeat you for real. And you'll speak your true na to with your own mouth."

That was the vow burning in Shuuichi's chest.

With a sigh, he dispelled the cloaking Kidō he'd set up.

Having just returned from Hell and imdiately endured a brutal inner confrontation, he wasn't in a rush to report back to the Seireitei. He'd already vanished long enough from Soul Society—what difference would a few more hours make?

He started down a flat dirt path, deciding to give himself a rare day off. A small reward for surviving the literal inferno of training.

Soon, he arrived at a quiet village—clusters of houses, peaceful laughter, children playing with their mothers at the roadside.

This kind of serene atmosphere could only exist in the upper-numbered districts of Rukongai—probably above District 70.

Anything lower would be far more chaotic.

"Wow! Mister, are you a newcor or from the outside?"

A sharp-eyed little boy spotted him and skipped over happily, his childish voice bright and curious.

"What do you think?" Shuuichi smiled gently, crouching down.

"Outsider!" the boy answered confidently, pointing at the Zanpakutō on Shuuichi's waist. "The souls here don't carry swords like you do!"

"Then you're probably right. Say, would you be kind enough to give this outsider a tour? Especially if you know any good spots to eat?"

He ruffled the kid's hair, playing along.

It was strange that soone didn't recognize a shihakushō, but on second thought, not all commoners could tell the difference. Shinigami attire didn't exactly scream "official uniform," and outside of Captains and nobles, most people wouldn't know one from another.

"Uncle Ichiraku's ran is sooo good! I'll take you!"

The kid bead, clearly thrilled. Probably trying to drum up business for the shop, Shuuichi guessed.

Not that he minded—he didn't actually need to eat, being a Shinigami. He just wanted to relax and taste a bit of that simple, nostalgic life.

A small taste of peace before diving back into a world of masks and warfare.

But before he could take ten steps into the village—fighting.

A distant clang of weapons echoed. Shuuichi frowned.

Did I misjudge this place? Maybe it's not one of the safe districts after all?

He scanned for spiritual pressure—nothing major. Either the threat wasn't serious, or whoever it was didn't need to unleash reiryoku on unard villagers.

"Does this happen often?" he asked the boy, eyes narrowing.

"Nope!" the boy blinked, then followed Shuuichi's gaze. "Ohhh, you an over there? That's not bad guys! That's just Big Bro Ikkaku fighting soone again!"

...Ikkaku?

The na tickled sothing in Shuuichi's mory.

Bald head. Wild grin. A lunatic with a spear—

Madara Ikkaku?

It clicked. Shuuichi rembered. He'd roped Zaraki Kenpachi into joining the Eleventh Division far earlier than canon—maybe Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika hadn't even t Zaraki yet?

Interesting. Those two were part of the new guard—mid-to-high level future assets for the Gotei 13. Losing them could ripple across future deploynts.

Still, it wasn't worth worrying over. Aizen certainly wouldn't care about ants. And after what he'd survived in Hell?

Shuuichi felt unstoppable.

So, as the boy tugged at his sleeve, trying to guide him away from the ruckus, Shuuichi smiled and nodded.

"Sure, let's go your way."

But fate wasn't so accommodating.

Just as he turned the corner—BOOM—a bald man ca crashing through the street, chasing another man. The first guy kicked a wooden stick into the air, and it flew—right toward Shuuichi.

Without blinking, Shuuichi lifted a finger.

Crack.

The stick split cleanly in midair, whistling past on either side of him.

"Whoa! That reflex!" a voice cried.

He turned. Of course. That ridiculously pretty face belonged to Ayasegawa Yumichika.

And the bald man—Madara Ikkaku.

"Hey, haven't seen you before. New around here?"

Ikkaku's eyes lit up. The last guy was boring—but this one? Strong. He could feel it.

"I am. But I'm not interested in fighting. Don't give that look."

Shuuichi didn't even need to explain further. That hungry gleam in Ikkaku's eyes was unmistakable—identical to Zaraki's.

Worse—Shuuichi had seen that look in Unohana's eyes, too.

And Unohana had left him with nightmares. Literal, sweat-soaked, heart-pounding nightmares.

I hate that look.

But Ikkaku didn't care.

"You don't wanna fight? Too bad! Madara Ikkaku—rember the na!"

He charged forward, blade still sheathed.

Shuuichi sighed. He really didn't have ti for this.

He raised one finger, pressed it lightly to the blade tip.

BOOM.

The blade shattered, scabbard and all, crumbling under the force of his spiritual pressure. But not a single soul nearby was hard.

Once upon a ti, Shuuichi couldn't have done this. But after Hell? His precision with reiryoku was unparalleled.

Too bad Ikkaku couldn't appreciate the courtesy.

Drenched in sweat, heart hamring, he grinned wildly.

This is it! A real challenge!

He threw a punch, aiming straight for Shuuichi's head.

"You're getting annoying, Ikkaku."

Shuuichi's eyes went cold. He stepped forward, delivered a brutal punch to Ikkaku's gut.

Ikkaku went flying, carving a shallow trench into the dirt as he crashed, wheezing.

In an instant, Shuuichi flash-stepped and stood over him.

"Still alive?"

"Cough... I lost. Go ahead. Kill ."

"As long as you're not dead."

Shuuichi knelt, placed two fingers to Ikkaku's chest, and cast a healing Kidō.

"Why?" Ikkaku rasped. "Why save ?"

Shuuichi didn't even pause.

"I'm a Shinigami. 4th Division. I heal people. I don't kill civilians."

"Even if I want to kill you?"

Shuuichi paused.

"If you ever get strong enough to actually threaten —then we'll talk."

He left Ikkaku sputtering in the dust, uninterested in further conversation.

He already had enough trouble juggling Matsumoto Rangiku, Kisaragi Shuusuke, and occasionally covering for Soi Fon. He didn't need another psychotic warrior-in-training to babysit.

Let Ikkaku idolize Zaraki like he was supposed to.

As Shuuichi walked off, Yumichika arrived and knelt by Ikkaku, inspecting the healed bruises.

"Ikkaku...?"

"Yumichika..."

"Huh?"

"You know about Shinigami, right?"

"Yeah, they manage Rukongai. Fight Hollows. Keep Soul Society safe."

"Then let's beco Shinigami."

Yumichika stared, startled. But sothing in Ikkaku's eyes—the fire, the resolve—it was different.

It was because of him. That stranger.

"Alright," Yumichika nodded. "Let's do it."

And Ikkaku clenched his fists, eyes fixed on the road where Shuuichi had vanished.

"One day, I'll be strong enough to make you answer that question."

—

Shuuichi, of course, had no idea.

Even if he had, he wouldn't have cared—because in that exact mont, a Hell Butterfly found him.

A summons.

From Yamamoto Genryūsai himself.

It was strange.

He'd expected Sayako Douma or Unohana. Even Aizen.

But not the old man.

Also strange—the butterfly had found him with perfect accuracy, despite his masking spells.

And worst of all?

He'd just started his vacation.

That tiny window of peace was over before it even began.

—

anwhile, in the Douma family's underground chamber, Sayako Douma lay weak and pale.

Five ghostly Oni clung to her body, leeching spiritual energy from her bones.

Standing in the spot Shuuichi had occupied days ago was a man cloaked in the white haori of Squad One.

The number One stitched at his back left no doubt.

"So," Genryūsai said, "you contacted just to tell that forr 4th Division Vice-Captain Higashi Shuuichi... was sent into Hell on your orders?"

"Yes, Head Captain."

Sayako's voice echoed, soft and ethereal.

"You understand what that ans? Hell is not a playground. Makizaru was corrupted by just a short visit. Shuuichi spent five years there."

"Semyoubasa assures he's fine. I believe in her. I believe in him."

"It is still Hell's power. Your clan's mistakes and Makizaru's fall are well docunted. I will conduct a full inspection of Higashi Shuuichi."

Silence.

Then Sayako whispered,

"And if there's a problem?"

Yamamoto closed his eyes.

"Then I will return Semyoubasa... to your clan."

There was no emotion in his voice.

Only finality.