The battle still raged on, but the one in West Rukongai's 62nd District was drawing to a close.
After finishing off the final Adjuchas-class Hollow, Shihōin Yoruichi approached Higashi Shuuichi.
"Captain Shihōin, I—"
He started to speak, but Yoruichi raised a hand to stop him.
"We'll talk later. No time now," she said briskly. "Just got a message from Shunsui—seems the team escorting the nobles back to Seireitei ran into a massive ambush. The Commander-General's ordered me to reinforce them."
She glanced down to where the young noble girl—freed from Raiden Sankakushō—stood clutching the broken hilt of her wooden sword.
"Third Seat Higashi, I'm leaving the rest of the Hollows here to you. And that little lady too—see her home safe. Got it?"
"No problem at all, Captain Shihōin. With my strength, handling the cleanup here is no issue," Shuuichi replied without hesitation.
Yoruichi gave a nod, satisfied.
She was curious, of course—Shuuichi's Shikai had revealed a function never logged in any official record. But now wasn't the time to question it.
That little girl, though… she recognized her. A Fēng. The Fēng family were essentially retainers of the Shihōin clan. And if she remembered right, the current Sui-Fēng had recently mentioned a prodigy among their kin—Fēng Kōryō, a child with great potential, possibly her successor.
Judging by what Yoruichi had just witnessed, the kid had spirit.
In the hands of someone like Higashi Shuuichi—whose loyalty was nearly Shunsui-level meticulous—she'd be well protected.
"Then I leave this place to you…"
The final syllable hadn't even left her lips before she vanished, swallowed by her unmatched Shunpo.
"…Um. Shuuichi-sama? Thank you."
Kōryō's voice was soft and unsure. She stood hugging the ruined hilt of her mock Zanpakutō, cheeks tinged red, eyes averted.
She didn't know who Shuuichi was, but she recognized that haori on Yoruichi's back. And if that woman had trusted this man, then he had to be important.
She wasn't wrong.
"Mm." Shuuichi gave her a short nod, eyes closed, fingertips crackling faintly with reishi.
Starrk's message had come in.
"Coordinates confirmed. We've pinned down most of the squad leaders. You've done enough. Let us handle the rest."
So. His job was over?
Shuuichi frowned.
Already? I barely got to enjoy it.
Truthfully, most of the kills had gone to Yoruichi. Aside from a single Gillian and some minor clean-up, he'd only had a few chances to stretch.
But unless Aizen gave him permission to masquerade as a captain-level, he couldn't push further. He had to play the dutiful third seat.
"…You want to fight Hollows?"
He turned, eyes falling on the girl still hugging her broken sword.
"Eh? Y-Yes! I want to be strong like you, Shuuichi-sama!"
Her response came fast and fierce, eyes burning with resolve.
Shuuichi gave her a slow shake of the head. Then knelt slightly, placing his palm on her head in a gentle pat.
"Your heart's right. But you missed one thing. In a Shinigami's battle—reiatsu is everything. No reiatsu? No power. No defense. Nothing."
"…Reiatsu…" she mumbled, small mouth tugging downward.
She knew what it was. But knowing wasn't doing. She was still too young—her pressure, even with talent, was barely a flicker.
"Shuuichi-sama, then… why your hand?"
He extended his right hand again.
Shuuichi smiled—warm, soft, disarming.
"Well then, noble lady… want to see what a real fight looks like?"
He had a plan now. Befriending Fēng Kōryō might be an excellent long-term investment.
If she grew into the woman he remembered—head of the Second Division, commander of the Onmitsukidō—then when Aizen's fall inevitably came, and it was time for Shuuichi to flip the script and play the loyal soldier, someone like her backing him could make all the difference.
Just like Yoruichi once did.
Kōryō, of course, had no idea what thoughts churned beneath Shuuichi's smile.
All she felt was her heart pounding wildly.
Her small hand slid into his.
"Mm~"
Without another word, Shuuichi pulled her gently into his arms. She let out a soft gasp as her body tipped forward, and found herself securely cradled—his arm wrapped around her waist, positioning her with practiced ease.
"Bakudō #39: Enkōsen."
A translucent shield of reishi bloomed around her—shaped like a shimmering disc, durable and wide, keeping her cocooned in safety.
Then—
Flash.
They were gone.
A heartbeat later, Shuuichi appeared in front of a raging Gillian, his arm still wrapped around Kōryō, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Tenchō."
Two fingers. One touch.
The Hollow vanished in a mist of shattered reishi.
Another hundred meters—another Gillian. Shuuichi appeared above it, eyes calm.
"Tessan."
This time he didn't hold back. His heel slammed down with such force that the Hollow disintegrated mid-air.
Another. Then another. Then another.
Less than ten minutes later, the 62nd District was silent.
Every last Gillian reduced to ash.
"Now," he said, standing on a hill overlooking the battlefield, Kōryō still in his arms, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining like twin moons.
"…That's a real fight."