A blast of air erupted, morphing into a vicious gust—like a bomb going off.
Akira Kisaragi's vision darkened, his ears ringing with a dull buzz.
Even without reiatsu, Yoruichi Shihoin's raw power and flawless technique were enough to dominate at this stage. Total overkill.
Akira's gut sank. He twisted aside on instinct, desperate to dodge the lethal strike.
He knew that punch better than anyone. Take it head-on? Best case, he's crippled. Worst case, he's dead.
This chick's insane!
Her slim fist grazed his cheek, the sheer force unleashing a howling wind that tore through the air.
For a split second, Akira felt like he was caught in a deep-sea current, his body stretched and pulled like putty.
A sensation he'd never felt before—danger everywhere, suffocating.
The gust slammed into the floor, exploding with a boom. Cracks spiderwebbed out, jagged and menacing, like a beast's gaping jaws.
Sweat slid down Akira's nose. His nerves were stretched to the breaking point.
"Well, not bad!" Yoruichi grinned. "You're the first newbie to dodge my fist."
"Since you've got talent, let's crank it up a notch. Gotta teach these rookies something, right? Hakuda's a Soul Reaper's last stand—every student better graduate with flying colors. Consider this my special lesson."
As the battered students turned their shaky gazes to the pair, Yoruichi moved again.
This time, they could actually track her. Barely. Minds struggled to keep up, but if they memorized it, they'd have a killer Hakuda move in their pocket.
Akira, though? He stood there, dazed, like a wooden dummy.
Yoruichi shook her head, disappointed. Real geniuses were rare. Sure, tons of students graduated yearly, but captain-tier powerhouses? Barely a handful.
This guy was rude, sure, but a quick lesson would do.
She eased off—less force, slower speed.
But in Akira's world, everything shifted.
The instant Yoruichi attacked, her form broke down into dozens of pieces in his mind—arms, legs, torso, waist, even the twitch of her stance, all dissected in perfect detail.
Like a dry sponge, he soaked up every nuance of her Hakuda move, hungry for it. In a flash, he'd grasped its strengths, flaws, and quirks—making it his.
Heart of a God.
The moment he locked onto her rhythm, he truly got how terrifying this trait was. It didn't hand him raw power, but it gave him endless potential. With this, he could master any skill to its peak.
A spark flared in his eyes, his whole vibe flipping upside down—sudden, seismic.
Off to the side, Aizen—propped up by a classmate—watched his buddy with keen interest. The slight curve of his lips betrayed a flicker of excitement.
Yoruichi sensed the shift too, but her punch was already flying. No pulling back now—she charged, fist blazing toward the seemingly defenseless kid.
Rock, paper, scissors.
Smack!
A crisp sound cut through. Akira's palm met her fist, light and gentle, like a playful tap between friends.
But the clash unleashed a heart-pounding boom. Air surged outward in wild waves.
No major damage, but the students—already pummeled by Yoruichi—gaped in disbelief.
He blocked it?!
What the hell?!
Shock crashed through their minds like a tidal wave. They couldn't process it—didn't want to. Lose to some no-name shrine master from a backwater temple?
After weeks together, Class 1-A knew Akira's deal. Compared to the rich Seireitei kids, a Rukongai guy like him—even with his "shrine master" title—was small fry.
Yet this nobody had just held his own against a Shihoin noble!
"Huh. Blocked it," Yoruichi said, peering up at the tall kid inches from her. Surprise flashed across her sharp, pretty face.
"Didn't see that coming. A Hakuda genius with a weird counter?"
Her voice hit his ears, but Akira stayed cool—on the outside. Inside, his mind was a mess.
The gap between them was insane. Even catching her punch with his palm nearly shattered his hand. Only sheer grit kept him from screaming.
Hold it together. Don't ruin my rep here!
Yoruichi clocked his struggle. With a sly grin, she flipped her left wrist and struck again—close-range grapple this time.
Brute force locked his arms, shutting down his next move. Luckily, he'd let go of her right hand, buying a slim chance.
She didn't let up. Her Hakuda flowed sharper, faster—like a growing storm ready to swallow him whole.
But against that onslaught, Akira was a lone boat on a raging sea. Teetering, nearly sunk, yet somehow bobbing back up at the last second.
And under her pressure, Heart of a God kicked in hard. He picked apart her slowed moves, stealing their essence bit by bit.
As the fight dragged on, Nobutsume Ōmaeda frowned.
Wait a sec.
How'd they end up tangled like that?!
Akira's right arm was pinned to Yoruichi's chest. Her legs scissored his neck—only her left hand blocking her thigh kept his head from popping. His legs, meanwhile, clamped her waist.
Both locked the other down, but posture-wise, Akira had the edge!
He knew Yoruichi's pride kept her from using reiatsu—just pure skill. That was his opening. In a real fight, she'd have smashed him to paste already.
"Lady Yoruichi's got Kisaragi pinned!"
"No way—Kisaragi's pinning her!"
The students' heated debate jolted Nobutsume back to reality. When he focused, the two were locked in a borderline awkward tangle.
Aizen's eyes gleamed with heat. Interesting… Another hidden genius like me?