Bleach: Stirring Up a Storm

Shikaon Susumu stared at the Zanpakutō in Kōe’s hand, his eyes bloodshot. It turned out that damn Shihouin Kōe was telling the truth—the Asauchi in his own hands wasn’t the best one at all.

He wanted it. No, in Susumu’s eyes, that blade belonged to him from the start. It was only because Kōe had used despicable means that he obtained it. Now, Susumu was going to correct that mistake and take back what was rightfully his.

”What is that idiot trying to do?”

”He doesn’t want to snatch a Zanpakutō, does he?” Another boy shook his head and laughed. ”Commoners are commoners. Just useless trash that can’t be helped.”

”Not entirely. Isn’t Kōe an exception?”

By now, Kōe’s impression among the freshmen had quietly shifted. A monster who could transform an Asauchi into a Zanpakutō the moment he touched it was more than enough to make these nobles drop their prejudices.

On the viewing platform, the leading instructor was grinning from ear to ear. He knew this Shihouin Kōe was a genius. Truly worthy of being the Head Captain’s last disciple!

*What is that kid doing?* The instructor finally noticed Susumu’s movements. *Is he trying to snatch the Zanpakutō from Kōe’s hand?*

*What a fool!* the instructor cursed inwardly. He slightly lifted his heel, preparing to step forward and intervene, but hesitated. He wanted to see if this genius could achieve an even greater breakthrough—like Shikai.

Of course, communicating with a Zanpakutō spirit to achieve Shikai immediately after transforming the blade was a world-shaking concept. It was incredibly difficult, but what if he actually succeeded? He absolutely would not allow any human interference to disrupt Kōe at this critical moment.

Just then, the situation on the floor changed again. The instructor slowly lowered his heel back down. It seemed he wouldn’t need to step in after all.

The instructor wasn’t the only one paying attention to Kōe. As his best friends, Urahara Kisuke and Shihouin Yoruichi also hoped Kōe could take it a step further.

Susumu was only two steps away from touching the Zanpakutō he so desperately desired. Yet, he found himself completely unable to take those final two steps.

Yoruichi now stood between them, her sword drawn and held at the ready. Judging by her stance, if Susumu took even half a step forward, she would swing her blade down without a second thought. Susumu didn’t doubt this for a second.

But that wasn’t the main reason he froze. Another sword was already leveled directly in front of Susumu, the edge resting less than an inch from his neck. Let alone taking a step forward, even a slight twitch would result in his head being separated from his shoulders.

The owner of the sword was Urahara Kisuke. His usual easygoing smile had completely vanished, his perpetually half-closed eyes were now wide open, and his entire being radiated a terrifyingly dangerous aura.

”Step back...” Urahara pressed the blade a fraction closer, resting it directly against Susumu’s throat. His eyes were devoid of any emotion as he spoke with chilling indifference. ”Or else... I’ll kill you.”

”I’ll step back, I’ll step back...” The icy steel against his neck finally brought Susumu back to his senses, and Urahara’s dead-eyed stare filled him with absolute terror. With trembling hands raised above his head in surrender, he slowly backed away step by step.

Only after Susumu had retreated nearly fifty meters did Urahara sheathe his sword and return to Yoruichi’s side, his familiar smile reappearing on his face.

”Which possibility do you think it is?”

Yoruichi knew exactly what Urahara was asking. Although the three of them had never actually seen each other’s Zanpakutō before, they all knew that the others already possessed one and had achieved Shikai.

Yet right now, Kōe was undeniably holding a newly formed Zanpakutō. Either Kōe had been lying to them all along—which made no sense and was highly unlikely.

Or, Kōe possessed two entirely different Zanpakutō. Logically, this was the most probable explanation.

But at the same time, it was the most impossible reality. No one could possess two different Zanpakutō at the same time. It was absolutely impossible!

Unable to wrap her head around it, Yoruichi shook her head and muttered, ”I can’t guess. We’ll make him tell us himself later. If he refuses, we’ll beat him to death!”

Meanwhile, Kōe was completely oblivious to the massive headache he was causing. He was feeling fantastic; this kind of experience was intoxicating, no matter how many times he went through it.

He currently found himself standing inside a massive room—not his physical body, of course, but his consciousness. Candles flickered throughout the space, casting dancing shadows over the Hannya masks mounted on the walls. In the shifting light, the masks seemed to alternate between eerie smiles and ferocious grimaces, as if they were alive.

Transforming an Asauchi into a Zanpakutō was the hallmark of becoming a true Shinigami. Every Zanpakutō had its own name, a unique identity.

Communicating with one’s Zanpakutō to finally learn its name was the process of Shikai. It signified that a Shinigami had transcended the ranks of the low-level grunts.

This process could be long or short, varying wildly from person to person. Some learned the name in a sudden flash of inspiration, while others genuinely heard the blade’s voice speak to them. No one knew exactly which step triggered the revelation of the name to complete the Shikai.

However, if you could see the physical manifestation of your Zanpakutō spirit, then achieving Shikai was a certainty. This was exactly Kōe’s current situation. The physical form of his Zanpakutō spirit was right here in this room.

And unless he was mistaken, it was that pitch-black suit of armor standing at the very back of the room—an eerie suit of armor that looked as though it were being worn by an invisible man.

”Are you me?” Kōe asked, looking at a Hannya mask suspended in midair.

”You should know that being able to come here proves that I am you,” a hoarse voice echoed from the mask, sounding as though it were struggling to breathe.

”You’re quite straightforward this time...” Kōe muttered to himself with a shrug. He extended his hand and continued, ”Since we’ve reached this point, I assume you aren’t going to keep me in suspense?”

”A name?” An armored gauntlet materialized, tightly grasping Kōe’s hand as the hoarse voice spoke. ”Don’t forget, my name is...”

Back in the Sword Room, Kōe’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

*Was that just a dream?* Kōe muttered softly. He looked down at the short sword in his left hand and called out loudly, ”Seize him...”

”Kōki!”

The short sword that had been firmly grasped in Kōe’s left hand vanished into thin air. The crowd rubbed their eyes; they hadn’t blinked, and that short sword had definitely been there a second ago.

Shifting their gazes slightly up Kōe’s arm, they saw that a black gauntlet had inexplicably appeared on his left hand. The fingertips curved inward like sharp hooks, and the thick back of the hand bore a raised Hannya relief.

His forearm was similarly encased in smooth, pitch-black armor. It was dull and lusterless, resembling the carapace of an insect rather than forged metal. It looked unpretentious and plain, yet it radiated a sinister, murderous aura.

”Shikai! This is definitely Shikai!” The instructor from the stone platform had already rushed over. His face was flushed red as he stared at the gauntlet on Kōe’s left arm, muttering the word over and over.

”Well done! A genius, a true genius! Truly worthy of being the Head Captain’s esteemed disciple!” The instructor continuously patted Kōe’s shoulder, showering him with endless praise.

Hearing this, the surrounding freshmen erupted into an uproar.

”He’s a monster!”

”That blade is called Kōki, right? It looks so cool!” a girl squealed, cupping her cheeks.

Of course, not everyone was in awe. Dissenting voices soon emerged.

”It was fast, sure, but it looks a bit ordinary.”

”Looks like a direct-attack type. It’s probably very weak.”

”I think so too. The spiritual presence is too small.”

Among the doubters was Shikaon Susumu. Seeing that Kōe’s Zanpakutō looked so thoroughly unimpressive made him feel immensely better.

Praise and suspicion flew through the air in equal measure, but it was undeniable that at this moment, Kōe was the most eye-catching freshman in the academy. He had just cemented himself as the focal point of attention for a very long time to come.

During the spiritual power test, he had literally just told himself that it would be his final time on stage. He hadn’t expected to eat his own words so quickly.

Seeing the utter confusion plastered across Yoruichi and Urahara’s faces, Kōe couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of distress.

Stealing the spotlight felt great, but this was entirely too much spotlight. For both him and Old Man Yama, this severely derailed their plans. It was going to give them a massive headache for a long time to come.