The early morning sun cast its golden glow over the Seireitei, signaling the start of a new chapter in Musashi and Arasaka's lives. The two renowned shinigami stood at the Senkaimon gate, their silhouettes outlined against the gleaming white walls. Around them, a handful of squad members were present to bid them farewell, their expressions ranging from solemn to admiring. Among them was Kuchiki Sōjun, standing silently with a faint smile on his face, and Captain Yoruichi, leaning casually against the gate frame.
Musashi adjusted the strap of his pack, glancing briefly at the crowd before his gaze settled on Sōjun. "Take care of yourself, Lieutenant," Musashi said in his usual calm tone.
Sōjun chuckled lightly, though there was a trace of melancholy in his expression. "You sound like you're saying goodbye for the last time. It's not like you'll be gone forever."
Musashi gave a small nod but didn't reply.
"Make sure you keep Arasaka in line, will you?" Yoruichi chimed in, a teasing grin on her face.
"Hey, I don't need babysitting!" Arasaka retorted, crossing his arms.
Yoruichi raised an eyebrow. "After the stunt you pulled at the last banquet, I beg to differ."
The memory made Arasaka wince, while Musashi remained stoic, though a faint glimmer of amusement crossed his eyes.
"Safe travels, both of you," Sōjun said, stepping forward. His voice softened as he continued, "The Living World is unpredictable. Stay alert, and don't let your guard down. And Musashi…"
Musashi turned his attention fully to the lieutenant.
"When you come back, I'll be here to officially hand over my position to you," Sōjun said, his tone both warm and firm.
Musashi hesitated, the weight of the moment settling on him, before giving a deep bow. "I'll honor your trust."
Arasaka, feeling the mood growing too heavy, clapped a hand on Musashi's shoulder. "Alright, enough with the serious stuff! Let's get going before I fall asleep standing here."
With that, the Senkaimon gate opened, its light illuminating their path to the Living World.
---
The air shimmered faintly as the Senkaimon opened, its gates parting to reveal the stark contrast between the spiritual realm and the human world. Arasaka and Musashi stepped forward, their black shihakushōs fluttering in the breeze, as they crossed into the unfamiliar streets of Karakura Town. The faint hum of human life surrounded them, but to their trained senses, a heavy presence of hollow activity lingered like a storm on the horizon.
Arasaka adjusted his zanpakutō at his waist, his expression calm but alert. "Feels strange, doesn't it? Being here after all the drills."
Musashi grunted in agreement, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his katana. "We're not here to sightsee. Let's locate the disturbances and deal with them quickly."
Arasaka smirked. "Straight to business, huh? You're no fun, Musashi. At least try to enjoy the breeze."
Musashi glanced at him but said nothing. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the quiet moments; he simply couldn't afford to let his guard down. His instincts, honed over years of combat training, warned him that danger lurked nearby.
They moved through the streets, their steps silent and purposeful. The city was alive with activity, though the humans were blissfully unaware of the spiritual battle unfolding around them. Arasaka stopped suddenly, his hand raised.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, his voice dropping.
Musashi nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. "Three signatures. Two weaker ones moving together—and one stronger one further out."
"Split up?" Arasaka suggested.
Musashi shook his head. "No. We take them together. No need to be reckless."
Arasaka shrugged. "Fine by me. Let's start with the weaker pair."
They turned down a side street, the air growing heavier with each step. The faint echoes of growls and claws scraping against concrete reached their ears. Emerging into an alleyway, they found two hollows feeding on the lingering spiritual residue of a recently departed soul.
Musashi didn't hesitate. In one fluid motion, he unsheathed his blade and lunged forward, the force of his swing cleaving through the first hollow before it could react. The creature let out a guttural scream before disintegrating into particles.
The second hollow reared back, its grotesque form towering over them. It opened its maw, preparing to release a cero, but Arasaka was faster.
"Bakudō #4: Hainawa!" he shouted, extending his hand. A glowing rope of yellow energy shot forth, wrapping around the hollow's limbs and pinning it in place.
"Finish it," Arasaka said casually, holding the hollow in place.
Musashi didn't need to be told twice. With a burst of shunpo, he appeared above the hollow, his sword crashing down with brute force. The hollow shattered beneath the blow, its mask splitting cleanly in two.
Arasaka released the binding spell, dusting off his hands. "You know, you could leave some for me once in a while."
"Focus," Musashi replied, sheathing his blade. "The stronger one is close."
The two shinigami followed the trail of spiritual pressure, their movements seamless as they navigated through the human city. The stronger hollow's presence loomed over them like a dark cloud, oppressive and suffocating.
They found it near the outskirts of the town, where the city gave way to a wooded park. The hollow was massive, its form resembling a monstrous centipede with rows of sharp, clawed legs and a grotesque mask that leered down at them.
"Now this one's interesting," Arasaka said, a grin spreading across his face.
Musashi drew his blade, his posture low and ready. "No time for jokes. It's targeting nearby souls. Keep it contained."
Arasaka raised his hands, the air around him crackling with spiritual energy. "Hadō #33: Sōkatsui!"
A blast of blue energy shot from his palms, striking the hollow square in the side. The creature roared in pain, its attention shifting to the two shinigami.
"That got its attention," Arasaka muttered, dodging as the hollow lunged toward him.
Musashi appeared in front of the creature in a blur of movement, his sword flashing as he delivered a devastating slash to one of its legs. The hollow screeched, its balance faltering as it tried to recover.
"You're slow," Musashi said coldly, stepping in to deliver another heavy strike.
The hollow retaliated, swinging one of its clawed legs in a wide arc. Musashi blocked the attack, the force of the blow pushing him back a few steps.
"Keep it busy!" Arasaka called out, already preparing another spell.
Musashi didn't reply, his focus entirely on the fight. He pressed the attack, his strikes relentless as he chipped away at the hollow's defenses.
Arasaka, meanwhile, chanted under his breath, his reiatsu surging. "Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō!"
Six rods of light appeared around the hollow, slamming into its midsection and immobilizing it. The creature thrashed against the binding spell, but it couldn't break free.
"Now's your chance!" Arasaka shouted.
Musashi nodded, his blade glowing faintly as he poured his spiritual energy into it. With a single, powerful swing, he struck the hollow's mask, shattering it completely. The creature let out one final roar before disintegrating into nothingness.
As the dust settled, Arasaka leaned against a nearby tree, catching his breath. "You know, for all your brute force, you're not bad to have around."
Musashi sheathed his blade, his expression unreadable. "And you're useful enough with your spells."
Arasaka laughed. "High praise coming from you."
Their banter was interrupted by the sound of distant screams. Both shinigami tensed, their senses flaring as they felt a sudden spike in spiritual pressure.
"That's not good," Arasaka said, his tone serious.
Musashi nodded. "Another one. Stronger than the last."
Without wasting a moment, they sprinted toward the source of the disturbance.
The scene they arrived at was pure chaos. A hollow even larger than the last was rampaging through the streets, its massive form towering over the nearby buildings. Its mask was adorned with jagged spikes, and its limbs crushed everything in their path.
Musashi and Arasaka didn't hesitate.
"Take the high ground," Musashi ordered. "I'll engage it directly."
"Got it," Arasaka replied, already scaling a nearby building.
Musashi charged forward, his blade drawn. The hollow swung one of its massive arms at him, but he sidestepped the attack with ease, slashing at the limb as he passed. The hollow roared, its attention fixed on the relentless swordsman.
From above, Arasaka began his assault. "Hadō #58: Tenran!"
A spiraling blast of wind tore through the hollow's side, causing it to stagger. Arasaka followed up with another spell. "Hadō #63: Raikōhō!"
A bolt of golden lightning shot from his outstretched hand, striking the hollow with a deafening crash.
The spell was strong and destroyd hollows mask.
The two shinigami stood amidst the wreckage, they didnt brake a sweat.
"Four hollows in one day," Arasaka said, shaking his head. "They really don't make this job easy, do they?"
Musashi wiped the blood from his blade before sheathing it. "It's not about easy. It's about results."
Arasaka smirked. "You're such a charmer."
Despite his stoic demeanor, Musashi allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile.
(End of a chapter)