Chapter 127: The Unlucky Blade of Mist

The Rukongai’s shadowed streets were silent under the cover of night, save for the occasional rustle of restless souls. At the Shin’ō Academy, students were tasked with a perilous practical exam: hunt a Hollow and return with its remains as proof of their skill. For Chiyo, a diminutive student with a sharp wit and sharper blade, this mission was turning into a sleepless ordeal.

Chiyo trudged alongside her four teammates, her small frame barely visible in the moonlit gloom of Rukongai’s outer districts. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, glinted with irritation. “This is absurd,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “I’m getting wrinkles staying up this late. Kids like me should be asleep by nine, not chasing monsters at midnight!”

The moon hung high, casting a pale glow over the team. One of her teammates, a wiry boy named Kenta, grumbled under his breath. “When did Rukongai get so calm? I thought this place was a Hollow-infested mess.”

Another teammate, Yumi, snorted. “You’re out of the loop. Ever since Captain Unohana started patrolling with the Eleventh Division, she’s been carving through every thug and Hollow in sight. Rukongai’s practically a temple now.”

Unohana Retsu’s name carried weight. The Fourth Division captain’s serene demeanor belied her past as a bloodthirsty warrior, and her patrols had tamed the lawless districts. But her efficiency made this Hollow-hunting mission maddeningly difficult.

“If we go back empty-handed, Instructor Yamabuki will chew us out,” Kenta groaned. “And it’s his fault for sending us here when his wife’s already cleared the place!”

Chiyo rolled her eyes. Yamabuki Haruto and Captain Unohana weren’t married, but their close partnership—sharing quarters—fueled rampant gossip among the students. “Let him shout,” she snapped. “It’s not like he’ll skin us. Probably.”

Her retort was cut short as her senses flared, a pulse of malevolent reiatsu prickling her skin. She drew her Zanpakutō, a slender blade that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. “Something’s coming,” she hissed.

Kenta dropped to the ground, pressing an ear to the earth. “Footsteps. Chaotic ones. Left flank, closing fast.” The team gripped their Zanpakutō, bracing for combat in the near-pitch darkness.

A figure stumbled into view—not a Hollow, but another Shin’ō Academy student, his face ashen with panic. “Run!” he shouted, waving frantically. “There’s a big one behind me!”

Before Chiyo could react, a crimson glow erupted in the sky. A searing wave of energy swept past, igniting the ground in a roaring blaze. The students froze, stunned by the blast’s ferocity. Chiyo’s eyes snapped upward, and her stomach dropped. Looming in the darkness was a towering figure, its bone-white mask gleaming beneath a tattered black cloak. Standing over fifteen meters tall, it swayed as it advanced—a Menos Grande of the Gillian class.

“A Gillian,” Chiyo whispered, her voice trembling. In Bleach lore, Gillians were the weakest Menos-class Hollows but still far beyond the capabilities of academy students. Most of her team had reiatsu levels barely reaching the fifteenth rank, weaker than even low-seated Gotei 13 officers. A Gillian required at least a seated officer’s strength to challenge, and for them, it was a death sentence.

Panic seized the group. One student, the least composed, collapsed in terror, his shihakushō stained with fear. Chiyo’s mind raced, but her resolve hardened. Despite her youth, her reiatsu rivaled a seated officer’s, and she wasn’t about to let her team perish.

“Scatter, Kiribana!” she shouted, releasing her Zanpakutō’s Shikai. The blade dissolved into a swirling white mist that enveloped the Gillian, clouding its vision. Kiribana’s abilities were twofold: it disrupted an enemy’s visual perception and conjured illusions to confuse them. The Gillian roared, its massive arm swinging blindly as a Cero—a devastating beam of Hollow energy—blasted into an empty field.

“Chiyo!” Yumi cried, her voice cracking.

“I’m fine!” Chiyo barked. “Get to the Seireitei, now!” Her close-combat skills were lackluster, but her Kidō mastery was exceptional for a student. As Kiribana held the Gillian’s attention, she began chanting. “Chariot of thunder, bridge of a spinning wheel, with light, divide this into six! Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō!”

Six beams of light shot from her hands, pinning the Gillian’s massive frame in place. Without pausing, she continued, “Sprinkled on the bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind, stop and become the calm. The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Hadō #63: Raikōhō!”

Golden lightning erupted from her palm, engulfing the Gillian in a crackling storm. Her teammates, fleeing toward safety, glanced back in awe. The tiny Chiyo was a force to be reckoned with.

The light faded, revealing the Gillian’s mask, cracked but not shattered. It broke free of the Bakudō, its claws slashing through the air. Chiyo’s heart sank. Her attack had wounded it, but not enough. Gillians were slow, but their raw power was overwhelming. She retreated toward a nearby hillside, using Kiribana’s mist to obscure her movements and slow the Hollow’s pursuit.

The Gillian, realizing its vision was compromised, abandoned precision. It unleashed a barrage of Cero blasts, scorching the landscape indiscriminately. Chiyo’s reiatsu was draining fast, Kiribana’s mist sapping her reserves. This is all Haruto’s fault, she thought bitterly. If he hadn’t forced me into this stupid exercise, I wouldn’t be running for my life! If I die, I’m haunting his quarters every night!

She reached the hillside, only to find her path blocked by a sheer cliff. “A dead end? Seriously?” she groaned, half-expecting some clichéd miracle to save her. The Gillian loomed closer, its mask splitting open as a crimson Cero charged in its maw.

Chiyo’s fear boiled into defiance. “You think I’m scared? I’m pissed now, and when I’m pissed, even I’m scared!” Tears pricked her eyes, but she stood her ground, channeling every ounce of reiatsu into one final spell.

“Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! On the wall of blue flame, inscribe a twin lotus. In the abyss of conflagration, wait at the far heavens! Hadō #73: Sōren Sōkatsui!”

Twin azure flames roared from her hands, meeting the Gillian’s Cero head-on. The collision shook the earth, a blinding explosion of light and heat.