— — — — — —
Rukia Kuchiki's eyes widened in disbelief when she spotted Ryo standing just a few feet away from her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, stunned.
But almost immediately, her expression shifted to something more complicated.
"No—seriously, why would you try to save me?"
Ryo tilted his head slightly, giving her a sidelong glance filled with amusement.
"Let's just say I was... curious."
"Are you kidding me right now?" Rukia snapped, struggling against her restraints. "Do you even realize you're on the Captain-Commander's kill list!?"
She was utterly baffled.
They had no connection. Nothing at all. Yet here he was, standing right in front of her, blocking a blow from Sōkyoku—the execution naginata.
What the hell was he thinking?
If he really wanted to help, couldn't he have acted yesterday? Why show up now—right when it's the most dangerous? Did he hit his head or something?
"Kill list, huh…" Ryo narrowed his eyes, turning his gaze downward toward the old man below.
"Hard to believe someone that dangerous looks like he's about to nap like a baby."
Yamamoto raised an eyebrow. He wasn't deaf—he could hear Ryo mocking him loud and clear.
From the sidelines, Soifon stepped forward and looked up, scowling.
"What a fool. Walking straight into the Captain-Commander's trap—he's signing his own death warrant."
Kyoraku Shunsui adjusted his straw hat, voice low and grave. "Yeah… this doesn't feel like a fair matchup."
"Captain Kyoraku? What do you mean?" Rangiku Matsumoto asked, glancing between Ryo and the others, confused.
That's when Yamamoto finally spoke.
"All captains—clear the area. This battle is not one you can be part of."
Everyone froze.
Wait—did he really just say captains?
Surely he meant the vice-captains, right?
But before the confusion could spread further, Toshiro Hitsugaya turned to his lieutenant.
"Rangiku, we're leaving."
He still didn't trust Gin Ichimaru. This was the perfect excuse to go find him.
"Captain?" Rangiku looked flustered but didn't argue.
Shunsui then turned to his own lieutenant.
"Nanao, head back to Division Eight."
Without a word, Nanao Ise vanished using shunpo.
Soifon, however, frowned deeply.
"Captain-Commander, with all due respect…"
She clearly wanted to suggest that all captains join forces to bring Ryo down quickly.
"Captain Soifon," Retsu Unohana suddenly cut in, her tone calm but firm. "Please, leave this to the Captain-Commander."
"But—"
"Staying here will only get you killed. You'd be nothing but weeds crushed under the pressure of their fight."
The moment she said that, Marechiyo Omaeda— Soifon's vice-captain—completely panicked.
"C-Captain, we should get the hell out of here! No mission's worth dying over!"
Soifon gave him a death glare but said nothing more. One glance from Yamamoto was all it took—she turned and left, dragging Omaeda with her.
"Let's go, Isane."
Unohana nodded to her own lieutenant, then looked over at Byakuya.
"Captain Kuchiki, are you leaving as well?"
Byakuya glanced at Rukia, then turned his gaze forward again.
"My vice-captain was injured and is resting in Division One's barracks. I need to see him."
Abarai Renji had gotten hurt trying to save Rukia, and though Byakuya had struck him down, it was still part of his duty. If there was a chance for Renji to recover, he didn't mind asking Unohana for help.
As for Rukia… well, maybe she still had a chance to survive.
"Then... let's go." Unohana said, glancing toward the direction of Central 46.
As the captains began to leave, Ryo casually drew his Zanpakutō, looking up at the massive weapon above.
He suddenly chuckled.
"So this is the Sōkyoku—said to have the offensive and defensive power of a million Zanpakutō and now wielded by Yamamoto Genryūsai himself... that's interesting."
"Interesting? Have you completely lost it?!"
Rukia was losing her mind. "There's still time to run—don't throw your life away for nothing!"
Ryo turned to her again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You're pretty cute for a princess."
"Shame you can talk."
A vein throbbed on Rukia's forehead. Her eyes went wide, and her fists clenched so hard she looked about ready to punch his smug face in.
But Ryo was already turning back to the old man below.
Yamamoto slowly stepped forward, gripping Sōkyoku's massive naginata.
Above, the flaming phoenix began shrinking, concentrating into the blade—ready to strike.
Then—
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Ukitake Jūshiro appeared beside Kyoraku Shunsui, carrying a large shield strapped to his back. He coughed twice as he landed.
"Cough, cough… Am I late? Is Rukia alright?"
Shunsui glanced over with a strange expression. "You're not late. But you came for nothing."
Ukitake blinked, then looked up toward the sky.
"What? But… oh thank goodness, Rukia's okay!"
"Captain Ukitake…" Rukia furrowed her brows at his sudden appearance.
"Wait—don't tell me you're also here to act all reckless?"
Was he trying to save her too? Seriously?
"Hmm..." Ukitake turned toward the man beside her, squinting. His brows furrowed.
"I can't sense any Reiatsu at all… His control is incredible."
Even among the Gotei 13, Ukitake ranked high. But he couldn't sense anything from Ryo.
That meant one thing—Ryo's reiatsu was so overwhelming, it was simply beyond his ability to detect.
And that was bad. Really bad.
Then, Yamamoto spoke, still facing away from them.
"Ukitake."
"You brought a spiritual tool to interfere with Sōkyoku. What do you think you're doing?"
Ukitake flinched, slowly turning to see his old teacher glaring at him, massive naginata in hand, Division 1 haori flapping in the wind.
He winced hard, and finally understood what Shunsui meant earlier—he really had come for nothing.
Yamamoto was planning to cut someone down with Sōkyoku, and here he was with a damn shield, trying to stop it.
Yeah, right. That wasn't brave—it was suicide.
"Sensei, I—" Ukitake's face twisted in a half-apologetic, half-terrified grimace.
In response, Yamamoto stripped off the top half of his uniform, revealing a scarred and muscular body that looked anything but elderly.
"You two scheming brats—get the hell out of my way."
"YES SIR!"
Both Ukitake and Shunsui stiffened as a chill ran down their spines. The old man was pissed now.
Yamamoto gripped Sōkyoku tight, fire pouring from his nose and mouth like a living volcano.
Then came a voice, soft and amused: "Not using your own blade? Old man, that's not a good idea."
Yamamoto replied without hesitation. "I don't need it to deal with a brat like you."
"Oh?" Ryo smirked.
Then—Slash!
Blood sprayed from Yamamoto's chest.
A clean cut.
"Huh. Looks like you do need it after all, old man."
Ryo's tone was mocking, almost playful.
"You arrogant punk!"
With a roar, Yamamoto raised the massive naginata and brought it crashing down toward Ryo.
.
.
.