Chapter 40: Battle with the Sword Spirit

Yamabuki Haruto stared at his sealed Zanpakutō, frustration simmering.
Why won’t she tell me her name? Is she hiding something… or just messing with me?

“Chōjirō,” Haruto asked carefully, “how do you communicate with your Zanpakutō? Maybe I should check if your method is correct.”

Sasakibe Chōjirō answered without a trace of doubt, cheerful as ever.
“I just… spoke with it. Last night, Gonryōmaru told me its name! That’s it. Isn’t that normal? Isn’t that how you did it too, Brother Yamabuki?”

Haruto forced a smile. “Heh… yes, yes, nothing wrong with that. You’re talented, Chōjirō. Go get some rest.”

As Chōjirō left, Haruto gritted his teeth.
So it’s just me, huh? Maybe I’ve been asking her wrong… Maybe she’s a tsundere type. White hair, twin tails, arrogant voice…

He muttered to himself: “Fine. Tonight, I’ll try a… romantic approach.”

That night, Haruto sat cross-legged, Zanpakutō across his knees. He entered meditation, breathing evenly until the world blurred away.

“Oi. White-hair? Tsundere? Hey, twin ponytails—white silk stockings? You there?”

A voice echoed, cold and sharp: “Squeak.”

Haruto’s eyes widened. “That’s… it? Just one squeak? Well, at least you’re listening! Why don’t we talk face-to-face?”

In an instant, he was pulled into his inner world.

Endless sky and shifting horizons surrounded him. Above, a colossal Rubik’s Cube rotated slowly. Perched upon it, legs crossed, sat his Zanpakutō spirit—a haughty white-haired girl with sharp eyes and stockings so bright they almost glowed.

She peered down. “Didn’t you drag me out for a reason? Speak.”

Haruto scratched his cheek. “Well… uh. Your skirt’s so short. Sitting up there, aren’t you worried someone might—?”

A blur. A kick. White silk crushed against his face.

“You pervert!” she shouted, stomping. “You called me here just to spout trash?”

“Hey, hey—don’t get mad!” Haruto laughed nervously. “Look, just tell me your name, then we can work together!”

The spirit unsheathed a shining silver-white saber. “My name? Sure. Impress me. If you can satisfy me in battle, I’ll tell you.”

Haruto drew his blade, tension filling his body. “Fine. But don’t regret this!”

The spirit smirked, sheathing her weapon again. “Life and death are decided in one strike.”

“Huh? Why aren’t you attacking—”

He froze. Blood poured from his stomach. His eyes widened—his belly had already been slashed.
When?

“Too slow,” she mocked.

Grimacing, Haruto pressed his wound and cast Kaido to heal. The gash closed instantly. He lunged, blade flashing with all the speed he could muster—his dual-sword style driving power to its peak.

His sword cut through empty air. The spirit had vanished, reappearing behind him.

Cold sweat dripped down his neck. Even Yoruichi herself couldn’t move that silently… this speed is absurd!

“So slow,” she whispered, patting his shoulder.

“Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō!” Haruto snapped, six rods of light pinning her form.

She only smirked. “Bakudō #61: Rikujōkōrō.”

Six rods slammed into him in return. Both frozen.

“Everything you know… I know,” she said coolly, slicing apart the restraints as though they were paper.

Haruto gritted his teeth and broke free as well. “Fine then—Hado #88: Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!”

A roaring dragon of lightning burst forth.

The spirit calmly raised her hand. “Bakudō #81: Danku.”

A barrier of light swallowed the storm, scattering its power into sparks across the sky.

She rested her hand on her sword’s hilt, posture shifting into a draw stance. “You want to know what I’m capable of? Fine. I’ll show you. If you survive this strike, I’ll tell you my name.”

Haruto’s lips curled in relief. “Finally… you said it yourself!”

He planted his feet, reiatsu rising like fire. One slash… I can take it. I’m nearly captain-level now. No problem. My Zanpakutō will finally awaken!

The spirit smiled sweetly, almost tenderly. “Goodbye, my poor master.”

Her blade flashed.