Ichigo's grip tightened around the newly forged blade.
The floating swords that once filled the sky around him vanished like shards of a dream, dissolving into the wind. All that remained was silence—heavy, charged, and waiting to erupt.
Across from him, Zangetsu stood still, his coat fluttering in the residual wind, his dark sunglasses gleaming beneath furrowed brows. A slow smirk curled his lips. Behind that calm expression was something ancient—like a storm restrained just beneath the surface.
"You found it," Zangetsu said, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the air like thunder rolling across a distant battlefield. "But claiming the sword isn't enough. Now you must prove you deserve it."
Ichigo raised the blade. His arm trembled—not from weakness, but from the pressure building inside him. His entire body was slick with sweat, each breath ragged. His spiritual energy swirled around him in erratic pulses, like a beast trying to escape its cage.
"No more games," Ichigo muttered. His voice was calm, but his eyes were fierce—burning with unshakable resolve. "I'm done holding back."
Zangetsu's smile deepened as he shifted his stance, planting his feet. Then—boom.
A crushing wave of spiritual pressure exploded outward.
CRACK.
The stone floor beneath Ichigo's feet split open. Air distorted. Debris lifted. The sheer weight of Zangetsu's presence pressed against Ichigo's chest like a mountain trying to crush him.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
But he didn't falter. He didn't retreat.
"Let's go."
Flash.
Ichigo vanished, reappearing in front of Zangetsu in a burst of high-speed movement. He slashed in a wide arc.
CLANG!
Their blades met midair. Sparks flew, the ring of steel against steel echoing like a war cry. The force rattled Ichigo's bones. He gritted his teeth, went for another strike—only for Zangetsu to sidestep with blinding speed and deliver a heavy kick to Ichigo's ribs.
WHAM!
He crashed into the ground, dust exploding outward. A groan escaped him—but he rolled through the pain, rebounding to his feet with grit in his eyes.
Zangetsu was already on him, blade descending fast.
"If you want Bankai," Zangetsu said, his voice now a booming roar, "you must be stronger!"
Ichigo didn't speak. He felt it. The heat in his limbs. The scream of his soul. The call of the blade.
With a shout, Ichigo surged forward again. His steps blurred. Each swing carried more weight, more precision. He didn't think—he flowed. His energy pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, harmonizing with the blade in his hand.
Then—he saw it. An opening.
HAAA!!
With every ounce of force in his being, Ichigo brought his blade down.
BOOOOM!
The clash shattered the silence. Wind blasted out in a violent shockwave, flattening the dust around them. For a heartbeat, the world stood still—frozen in the wake of his power.
Zangetsu's glasses cracked. His expression shifted.
"There it is," he said, voice no longer amused but reverent. "You've found it."
Ichigo's energy erupted like a typhoon. Black and red energy coiled around him like living flame. His sword shifted—slimming, sharpening—becoming a sleek black katana with a blood-red hilt.
Tensa Zangetsu.
His clothing transformed, his cloak darkening and tightening to his form like battle armor. The air itself hummed around him, charged with spiritual voltage.
Ichigo stood tall. Calm. His breath even.
He wasn't just stronger. He was evolved.
Zangetsu stepped back, nodding once.
"Well done, Ichigo. You've unlocked your Bankai. But don't mistake this for the end. Now your true training begins," Yoruichi said, arms folded, a rare seriousness lining her voice.
Ichigo panted lightly, his clothes fluttering in the residual wind his transformation had caused. The dark, tattered cloak of his Bankai—Tensa Zangetsu—wrapped around his lean frame like a whisper of shadow. He looked down at himself and smirked.
'I need to master my Bankai. Though sadly, I can't fully master it... not without losing these powers,' he thought grimly. The cost was always looming, always waiting.
A chill brushed across his exposed chest and arms. 'I'm cold, not gonna lie,' he thought with a wry smile as he turned his head.
Yoruichi stood frozen, staring at him in wide-eyed astonishment.
'He unlocked it in such a short time. I don't know if I should be impressed… or terrified,' she thought, a flicker of unease hiding behind her calm exterior.
"I'm thinking of refining it more before I fight Byakuya," Ichigo said, stretching his shoulder. "Rukia's execution isn't for another two days, right?"
"Yes," Yoruichi replied, folding her arms again, her expression softening. "At the pace you're going, you'll be massively stronger than Byakuya by then."
"Good." Ichigo's head snapped toward the cave's entrance. His eyes narrowed. "Hmm... we seem to have a visitor."
Yoruichi turned sharply, muscles tensing, as Renji Abarai walked in through the shadows of the tunnel. Her body moved instinctively—she was ready to strike.
But Ichigo didn't even flinch.
"What brings you here, Abarai?" Yoruichi asked cautiously, her voice low and firm.
"I'm here to train," Renji replied, standing tall despite the wary energy radiating from Yoruichi.
She narrowed her eyes. "What makes you think we'll just allow you to train, knowing you could become trouble for us later?"
Renji's expression hardened with resolve. "Don't worry about that. I'm not here to fight any of you anymore. I've decided... I'll save Rukia myself."
Ichigo chuckled under his breath. It wasn't mocking—but it wasn't kind either. Renji shot him a glare, but he said nothing. The memory of being beaten—twice—was still fresh, and the gap between them had only grown wider.
"We'll let you train," Ichigo said casually, already turning away.
Then, rubbing his stomach, he added, "Man, I'm hungry."
Yoruichi shook her head, a small smile breaking through her stern demeanor. "Come on. I'll make you something."
Ichigo's grin widened at that, and the two left together, their voices fading behind them. Renji stood alone, facing the silent Tenshintai.
'Alright… let's begin, Zabimaru,' he thought, determination burning in his eyes.
Later…
Ichigo sank into the hot spring, steam rising around him like a warm fog. His body relaxed, muscles soaking in the comfort after days of tension. The meal Yoruichi prepared sat satisfyingly in his stomach.
'If the others knew I was chilling like this while they're locked up… they'd probably murder me,' he thought with a chuckle. 'Yep. This is the life.'
A soft splash behind him caught his attention.
Yoruichi stepped into the spring, the mist swirling around her lithe form. Ichigo's eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched her move with effortless grace.
'Time to steal her from that dumb scientist,' he thought, his smirk widening.
TO BE CONTINUED