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Chapter 225: He Was Once a Genius Shinigami, Too
🕑 Added 2026-01-11 16:00:16 +0000 UTC“Muramasa!”
With Kuchiki Kōga’s silent roar in his heart, the manifested Zanpakuto spirit—Muramasa, grotesque in face, nails unnaturally long, yet dressed with a forced “politeness”—appeared at Kōga’s side.
“You should already know this,” Kyōraku Shunsui said calmly. “Your Zanpakuto’s ability doesn’t work on me.”
Not long ago, the two of them had still been “close” allies. Back then, Kōga hadn’t really guarded himself from Kyōraku at all—he’d even laid Muramasa’s weakness completely bare.
As long as you shut your heart away, you could resist Muramasa’s influence.
Easy to say.
In practice, more than ninety percent of Shinigami simply couldn’t do it.
For Kyōraku Shunsui, though, it was effortless.
“True—Muramasa’s ability not working on you is a real pain,” Kuchiki Kōga said, stepping forward. “But I never told you that Muramasa can only do that one thing, did I?”
He took one step and swung his blade.
Fast. Sharp. Clean.
Yet Kōga seemed to “forget” to pour enough reiatsu (spiritual pressure) into it—so only a faint aftershock rolled toward Kyōraku.
It looked harmless.
But in the next second, Kyōraku saw blood spray across his vision.
His blood.
Because he felt a chill spread across his chest.
…When?
Kyōraku reflexively slashed out a Kidō blade and used Shunpō to retreat, widening the distance between them.
Is there some special effect attached to the sword pressure?
No—
The thought barely formed before Kyōraku realized something was wrong.
Across from him, Kuchiki Kōga looked like he was desperately trying to close the gap, desperately swinging.
But this time, there was no way those sword pressures should have reached him. Kyōraku had plenty of time to intercept the reiatsu flying in with them.
And yet…
he still got cut.
He had even used Hadō 81: Dankū—the Bakudō barrier said to completely block all Hadō below number 90.
It did nothing.
Kōga’s reiatsu passed through Dankū like a hollow phantom, then vanished a short distance in front of Kyōraku—just like before.
What the hell was going on?!
Kyōraku couldn’t make sense of it.
Was there something he hadn’t considered?
With that question hanging over him, Kyōraku took one slash… then two… then three.
He abandoned offense entirely and shifted into full defense. Until he understood what was happening, he didn’t dare make a more aggressive move—let alone release his Zanpakuto.
Even with Kōga having committed such an enormous crime, Kyōraku Shunsui couldn’t decide execution on his own as an Eighth Division captain.
Either he needed the Central 46’s final judgment decree…
or the Kuchiki clan head had to act personally.
Otherwise, given Kuchiki Kōga’s status, even Kyōraku would only get burned.
And unfortunately, Kyōraku’s Zanpakuto release was exactly the kind of ability where both sides ended up killing each other.
Ever since Kyōraku mastered it, the only person he’d ever seen escape its rules was Higashino Shuuichi—and that was only because Shuuichi “cheated,” using an even stronger rule to collide with Kyōraku’s rules and cancel them out. Otherwise, Higashino Shuuichi would have died inside Kyōraku’s Zanpakuto ability back then.
So even though Kyōraku was strong and senior, in a restricted internal battle like this, he was at a real disadvantage.
Thankfully, Kyōraku wasn’t fighting alone.
As time passed, the first captain who managed to re-subdue his own manifested Zanpakuto and arrive as backup finally noticed what felt “off” about Kyōraku’s situation.
“Kyōraku-taichō, why aren’t you countering these clumsy attacks at all?”
The Seventh Division captain, Komamura Sajin—wearing that round helmet-like mask—asked after easily blocking several attacks meant for Kyōraku.
“Clumsy attacks?”
Kyōraku’s eyes widened, and then understanding struck him all at once.
He finally got it.
Komamura hadn’t even cleanly “cut” the attacks—yet the attacks were stopped anyway.
So did Komamura see through something Kyōraku, after fighting for so long, had failed to see?
Of course not.
It wasn’t that Kyōraku looked down on Komamura—he simply knew Komamura was straightforward, not someone with too many extra thoughts.
Which meant the conclusion was obvious:
Kyōraku’s own senses had been deceived by whatever method Kuchiki Kōga was using.
No—maybe it wasn’t just his eyes.
Maybe even his spiritual intuition had been warped.
That was why Kyōraku kept making wrong reads in the face of Kōga’s attacks.
But that method hadn’t taken hold on Komamura yet—either because Komamura arrived too suddenly, or because Kuchiki Kōga hadn’t had time to “affect” him.
So now was the best chance to break Kuchiki Kōga and capture him.
“Komamura-taichō—leave defense to me. Please, defeat Kuchiki Kōga as quickly as possible!”
Kyōraku made the optimal decision almost instantly.
Since he’d already fallen into Kōga’s trap—and since he couldn’t conveniently release his Zanpakuto—then he would commit fully to support and hand the task of crushing Kōga to Komamura.
Komamura still had questions, but he trusted Kyōraku. He didn’t argue.
He simply answered, then released his Zanpakuto fully in front of Kuchiki Kōga.
“Bankai: Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō!”
A gigantic black-armored warrior manifested behind Komamura—his Bankai.
If you wanted a swift end, Bankai was the obvious choice.
Facing Komamura Sajin at full power, Kuchiki Kōga didn’t flinch at all—instead, the madness on his face deepened.
Everyone was trying to stop him from taking revenge on the Tsunayashiro faction.
Everyone was trying to stop him from “creating a better Soul Society.”
Then they could all be destroyed.
His hypnosis—capable of disturbing a Shinigami’s sense of space and time—couldn’t take effect quickly on a captain who had already deployed Bankai.
But Kuchiki Kōga had other abilities.
“Stop underestimating me! Hyōga Seiran!”
“Kage Shibari-jutsu!”
Kōga’s voice and Muramasa’s voice rang out almost at the same time.
In the next instant, more than a dozen pitch-black shadows shot across the ground. Their ends latched onto Komamura Sajin’s shadow—and the shadow of Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō—binding both with a powerful restraint.
Because of the difference in raw power, the bind lasted only a moment—probably not even two seconds.
But it was enough.
From the tip of Kuchiki Kōga’s blade, a blizzard exploded outward—ice spikes, ice blades, and ice arrows so sharp they were like surgical scalpels, carving into Komamura and Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō.
And the reiatsu being stripped away piece by piece—
even Komamura in Bankai, even Kyōraku trying to react with Dankū to block it—
could do nothing to stop it.
“A Kidō I’ve never seen… did you create it yourself?”
Kyōraku murmured behind Komamura and Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō.
There was no doubt: Kuchiki Kōga’s talent might be far beyond what Kyōraku—and many others—had ever imagined.
Kyōraku couldn’t even understand the true intention behind Kuchiki Ginrei’s insistence back then that Kōga hide his fangs.
Was it really only to keep other noble families—certain two in particular—from becoming wary of the Kuchiki clan?
Or was it…
Kyōraku looked at the distance, where Kōga was already casting again—trying to take Komamura’s life while he was “ill.”
Or was it that decades ago—maybe even earlier—Kuchiki Ginrei had already seen this flaw in Kuchiki Kōga?
If so, then in Kyōraku’s eyes, Kuchiki Ginrei was a fool.
Blocking was worse than guiding.
The more you suppressed Kuchiki Kōga, the more catastrophic his eventual eruption would be—more terrifying, more incalculable.
That volcano-like wrath—
how many people could endure it?
“Kuchiki Kōga… you’re too arrogant!”
Komamura Sajin proved at least he could.
Kokujō Tengen Myō’ō—covered in fresh wounds from that single exchange—rose with Komamura from the ground.
Its massive body swung the enlarged Zanpakuto down, meeting Kuchiki Kōga’s attack head-on.
A self-created Hadō with power comparable to the 90s and above—like Hyōga Seiran—wasn’t something even the creator could spam.
Without buildup, there was no way to chain it repeatedly.
And so the fight fell back into a dull, brutal, razor-dangerous clash of blades.
Steel against steel.
Tiger against lion.
Kuchiki Kōga—who had stewed inside the First Division for who knew how long, cast aside by comrades, pouring everything into training—displayed strength far beyond anyone’s expectations.
“So… how long do you think Kuchiki Kōga can last? An hour? Half a day? A full day?”
Inside the First Division barracks—in Kuchiki Kōga’s room—Higashino Shuuichi sat in the chair. Across from him was the manifested spirit of his own Zanpakuto, smiling as always.
And behind them, Urozakuro sat atop the table, legs dangling—white and slender—asking with bright curiosity.
“Why do you assume he’s the one who fails?”
Higashino Shuuichi closed the military treatise his Zanpakuto had just handed him.
“Sometimes, if you stay silent for long enough, most people will forget you.
I suspect that in Soul Society now… there aren’t many left who remember that Kuchiki Kōga was once hailed as a once-in-five-hundred-years genius Shinigami.”
Then Higashino Shuuichi rose from his seat and looked up at the candle above—nearly burned down to its end.
In a Soul Society that had been gradually “connecting” with the Human World, using such an old-fashioned lighting method was indeed rare.
“Not just anyone is worthy of marrying into one of the Five Great Noble Houses.”
Elsewhere, Komamura Sajin grew more and more alarmed as the battle dragged on.
Because he realized that even as a Seventh Division captain—with Kyōraku Shunsui guarding from behind, allowing Komamura to abandon defense and focus purely on offense—
he was still being pushed into the disadvantage in his “duel” against Kuchiki Kōga.
It wasn’t that Komamura’s swordsmanship was worse.
It was that Kuchiki Kōga had woven an entire arsenal of Kidō into his blade—things Komamura had never seen before.
Those bizarre spells—
some temporarily blinded his eyes,
some detonated with violent explosions that warped his movement,
some scattered huge amounts of tiny ice shards that restricted his steps…
If Shihōin Yoruichi or Second Division Captain Soi Fon had been here, they would’ve recognized it immediately:
Kuchiki Kōga’s combat concept and technique had become extremely close to the principles of Shunkō.
In fact, with just the right trigger, Kuchiki Kōga could probably grasp a Shunkō unique to himself.
And all of it—
was something Kuchiki Kōga had forced out alone, by groping through solitude and darkness.
“Not enough… still not enough! You’re a Seventh Division captain and this is all you’ve got?!”
Kuchiki Kōga pressed Komamura step by step.
Kyōraku was about to move in and support further, but then he noticed a detail—
Muramasa was gone.
Sometime during the exchange between Kuchiki Kōga and Komamura Sajin, the manifested Zanpakuto spirit had disappeared.
Kyōraku’s face turned iron-dark.
He knew what Kōga’s true anger was.
Kyōraku knew Kōga’s purpose wasn’t revenge against all of Soul Society. The chaos across Soul Society was only meant to tie down the Gotei 13—so they couldn’t stop Kuchiki Kōga from taking revenge on the Tsunayashiro faction.
So Kyōraku didn’t even need to guess where Muramasa had gone.
“The madness on the surface… was just for me to see. In reality…”
Kyōraku no longer had the luxury to worry about Komamura’s safety.
The other side was far more dangerous.
Because most nobles, in terms of Shinigami strength, weren’t even worth mentioning.
Luckily, just as Kyōraku prepared to leave—
another captain arrived.
He could have come earlier.
But he hesitated, because he knew exactly what would happen the moment he stepped in.
In the end, he still came.
And that meant he had made his choice.
In the sky above—
suddenly, countless cherry blossoms began to fall like rain.
