Masatsuki's palm slowly descended.
Then, with a sharp crack, the handguard of Raika Gōen Kaku shattered completely under Shūsuke Amagai's stunned gaze.
A moment later, his vision blurred as his body was cleaved in half from the chest down. His eyes gradually lost their light.
"Hiss... Destroying a Bankai with such incredible defensive power using only his bare hands—Junior is truly terrifying!"
Shunsui Kyōraku glanced at Masatsuki Aozaki's hand in awe, feeling an itch to examine his own Zanpakutō. After a brief moment of thought, he dismissed the impractical notion.
Everyone's hands are made of flesh—so how is it that only you can do something like this?
With just a hand blade, he shattered Amagai Shūsuke's Bankai and split him clean in two.
That level of power was simply beyond comprehension.
...
Swish!
Yamamoto landed beside Kyōraku, his expression unreadable.
Kyōraku instinctively shrank his neck, pulling his hat lower. After all, he had been slacking off the entire fight, and guilt was starting to creep in.
But the old man didn't even glance his way, his eyes instead fixed on Masatsuki Aozaki and the fallen Amagai Shūsuke.
Behind him, Chōjirō Sasakibe stood, his gaze filled with shock.
Even from a distance, his captain-level vision had allowed him to catch a vague glimpse of Masatsuki's breathtaking strike.
"Junior Masatsuki's Hakuda... has it already surpassed Genryūsai-sama's?"
Sasakibe swallowed hard.
This was a Bankai nearing first-class Reiatsu strength.
Not only that, but it seemed to have formidable defensive properties as well.
And yet, such a powerful Bankai had been shattered by Masatsuki Aozaki's bare hands.
At this moment, Sasakibe couldn't help but wonder—could even Genryūsai-sama accomplish such a terrifying feat?
"You're late, old man. Make sure to add another mark in my merit book."
Masatsuki's expression was utterly indifferent, as if the powerful captain-level enemy he had just defeated was nothing more than an insignificant insect.
Yamamoto gave a slight nod.
His gaze lingered on Amagai Shūsuke's broken form, a trace of sorrow flashing in his eyes, though he said nothing.
Masatsuki noticed the old man's expression and glanced at Shūsuke, as if remembering something.
This guy's father... had some connection to the old man, didn't he?
...
"Cough..."
A weak cough suddenly broke the silence.
Amagai Shūsuke's lifeless eyes twitched slightly, as though experiencing a final moment of clarity before death.
But his Reiatsu was fading fast, flickering like a candle in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment.
He was dying.
"Masatsuki Aozaki… I have both Bankai and the Bakkōtō… So how… did I lose to a mere Shinigami?"
His voice was weak, forced through clenched teeth, laced with unwillingness and disbelief.
He simply couldn't understand.
How could a Shinigami without a Zanpakutō's power...
Defeat him—a warrior who had unleashed his Bankai, fused it with the Bakkōtō, and absorbed multiple Cores to enhance his strength?
Masatsuki Aozaki watched him quietly, then slowly crouched down until they were at eye level and spoke softly.
"Whether it's one speck of dust or two, to the naked eye, there's no difference."
"...I see."
Shūsuke Amagai glanced at the shattered remnants of Raika in his hands.
"So my life... was just dust?"
"I'm talking about power, you idiot. Don't twist my words." Masatsuki scoffed.
Shūsuke paused, then suddenly let out a laugh.
"I see... So my life has weight after all."
"Masatsuki Aozaki, I misjudged you twice."
"You're not like your cold, heartless Master. If only the man my father followed had been like you."
With great effort, he shifted his broken body, stiffly turning his neck to glare at Yamamoto with hatred.
"Yamamoto... Genryūsai... Shigekuni."
"You have an outstanding disciple. This time... I lost."
"But it wasn't to you. I lost... to someone I can't even bring myself to hate."
"It's a shame I couldn't kill you. I've let my father down."
Masatsuki Aozaki: "?"
I beat you to this state, and you don't hate me?
What kind of logic is that?
Am I some kind of universally beloved demon saint, charming even my enemies into submission?
I'm not Rangiku!
"Shūsuke Amagai, was your father Shin'etsu Kisaragi?"
"You remember his name?"
Shūsuke sneered.
"Now that's unexpected."
"Why wouldn't I remember the name of my own disciple?"
Yamamoto shook his head slightly and stepped forward.
"I just never expected you to be his son."
His voice was low and hoarse, carrying the weight of time.
"I always thought his son had been cut down by the Kasumiōji Clan's blade."
At those words, Shūsuke's eyes trembled, and a complex wave of emotions surged within him.
Disciple?
What does that mean?
His father... was Yamamoto's disciple?!
"...It seems you don't know the truth."
Seeing the shock on Shūsuke's face, Yamamoto sighed.
"I had long suspected the Kasumiōji Clan of forbidden research."
"That's why I sent him to investigate—to find evidence."
"But what happened afterward was beyond even my expectations."
Yamamoto's brows furrowed, his expression tinged with both helplessness and sorrow.
"You wield the Bakkōtō, so you should understand its power."
"Kisaragi took up that blade… and became a mindless monster, consumed by the sword itself."
"He came before me, and in the end... I cut him down with my own hands."
Yamamoto took a deep breath.
Though he had killed countless men, the memory of slaying his own disciple was one that never sat easily in his heart.
"Be wary of the Bakkōtō... the Bakkōtō..."
Shūsuke suddenly recalled his father's dying words, and a chill ran through him. His pupils shrank in realization.
Ever since his father's death, he had been investigating the Bakkōtō.
It all stemmed from those final words.
After years of searching, he had learned that his father, too, had been investigating the Bakkōtō before his death—only to be killed by Yamamoto.
And so, he had convinced himself that Yamamoto had slain his father to bury the truth.
To avenge him, he needed power—enough to defeat Yamamoto.
That was why he had allied with the Kasumiōji Clan.
But in the end, his true enemy hadn't been Yamamoto at all...
It had been Gyōkaku Kumoi, the very man he had worked alongside.
At least, Shūsuke thought bitterly, Kumoi was already dead by his blade. That was some small comfort.
The Bakkōtō had been forged at Kumoi's command, and Shin'etsu Kisaragi's death was undeniably linked to him.
During the siege, when Kumoi realized he was cornered, he had no choice but to entrust the Bakkōtō's power to Shūsuke, hoping he could turn the tide of battle.
But once Shūsuke got what he wanted, there was no way he would let that old schemer live.
And so, with a single slash, he had ended him.
"...Was I blinded by my own eyes, unable to see the truth?"
Shūsuke raised the broken remains of Raika. His eyes had lost all light, yet his body suddenly erupted in flames.
No one moved to stop him.
They all understood—this was the release he had chosen for himself.
"...Oh? So he was my senior's son? Never even realized."
Masatsuki stood up.
"Master, you should've told me earlier. I would've held back a little."
"...Stop talking nonsense, Junior. Kisaragi-senpai was already dead before you were even born. What could you possibly remember?!"
Shunsui Kyōraku sighed, feeling exhausted trying to keep up with Masatsuki's train of thought.
"Honestly, I only learned after looking into it myself."
"I thought he had been assassinated by the Kasumiōji Clan… I never expected that he had changed his name and joined the Gotei 13."
Yamamoto watched the burning figure, firelight flickering in his eyes as he spoke in a deep voice.
"Masatsuki, don't let this weigh on you."
"Though there were reasons behind his actions, he made his choices… and many of them were wrong. His death is not your fault."