Eleventh Division barracks.
The moment Nobu stepped inside, the eyes of every Eleventh Division member seemed to turn toward him at once.
It was clear they already knew why he had come and in their gazes, there was an uncharacteristic gravity.
Ordinarily, the Eleventh looked down most on Fourth Division, for in their view, the Fourth was nothing but a den of weaklings.
But Tachikawa Nobu...
Was not that sort of Fourth Division man.
Madarame Ikkaku was the first to step out from within.
When he saw Nobu, he gave a short nod.
"You're here."
"What, you've been waiting just for me?" Nobu asked with a light smile.
"Taichō's inside."
The Eleventh's barracks were unlike any other division's.
There were only a sparse two or three offices; the rest was nothing but training halls.
Even in the central courtyard, the space was filled with equipment for practice and combat.
Following Ikkaku's lead, Nobu stepped into the largest of those halls and there, among the crowd, his eyes immediately found the most striking figure.
Two meters tall, black hair bristling in spikes, chest bare, lean frame taut with sinew, eyes half-lidded in a perpetual squint...
Yet merely standing there, the man radiated a crushing pressure.
At Zaraki Kenpachi's side stood Kusajishi Yachiru and Ayasegawa Yumichika.
As Nobu looked at Kenpachi, the other's gaze locked unerringly onto him.
That fearsome face slowly split into a grin.
"You finally came."
Nobu replied evenly, "With Captain Zaraki's gracious invitation, how could I not?"
Zaraki lived for battle—the thrill of crossing blades with someone strong.
And though the Gotei was full of powerful individuals, he wasn't the sort to fight just anyone strong.
He wanted to cross swords with Nobu because Nobu felt different.
No one else fought with that same blade-work—not even other captains.
Yachiru came bouncing up to Nobu then, circling him twice before calling out with a bright laugh:
"Nobu-chan!"
Nobu: "…"
He knew Yachiru liked to hand out nicknames, she called Ikkaku things like "Baldy" or "Marble Head."
So this must be his.
…Not too bad, actually.
Kenpachi walked straight up to him, looming high above.
"Enough chatter. You know why I called you here, right?"
Nobu's eyes flicked toward the other members in the hall.
"I'd like to ask Captain Zaraki to have them step outside and close the door."
Kenpachi's eyes narrowed. "You want to do it here?"
A captain-level fight would shred any normal training hall.
Nobu smiled faintly. "If Captain Zaraki wishes to spar with me, this hall is more than enough.
And I've heard Eleventh Division men don't care for Kidō."
Something ignited in Kenpachi's gaze.
He glanced at Ikkaku and in moments, Ikkaku and Yumichika had cleared the space.
The great doors shut.
Only four people remained inside.
Kenpachi hated useless talk and pointless acts.
Nobu's arrival meant only one thing—
A fight.
...
Outside in the courtyard, Eleventh Division gathered in a knot.
They knew their captain was about to spar with Fourth Division's Third Seat, Tachikawa Nobu.
They wouldn't see the match, but they cared very much about the result.
Lately, Nobu's name had been spreading— the man who, at the Exchange Meet, had defeated Ichimaru Gin after Gin had released bankai. Some already counted him as captain-class in strength.
But no one thought Zaraki Kenpachi would lose.
Once the space was cleared, Kenpachi asked again, "You got any other requests?"
Nobu, still unhurried, said, "I hear from Third Seat Madarame that Captain Zaraki enjoys the thrill of blood and battle.
But today's match… I might have to disappoint you."
Kenpachi's narrow pupils locked on him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means—" Nobu's voice was calm.
"I won't bleed."
Ikkaku, standing at the edge, clenched his fist at those words.
This guy really dares.
A cruel smile curled Kenpachi's lips.
"I don't believe it."
Nobu loosened his shihakushō collar, baring the hard muscle of his chest.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes steady on Zaraki.
"Then try me, Captain Zaraki. I'll let you take the first cut."
"…"
"…"
The silence in the hall deepened to something almost physical.
Ikkaku and Yumichika exchanged a glance, both seeing the same flash of astonishment in the other's eyes.
Outwardly, Nobu was easy to get along with not taciturn, warm to friends, always with a ready smile.
But that was only the surface.
They still remembered exactly what he had said to Ichimaru Gin at the Exchange Meet.
Those words had been pure arrogance, unbowed and untamed.
And now, facing their captain—he was exactly the same.
Their captain was Kenpachi—the strongest swordsman among the Shinigami,
one of the foremost in strength even among the captains.
"Why aren't you moving, Captain Zaraki?"
In that deadly stillness, Nobu's voice was almost casual, the faint curl at his lips carrying an almost careless air.
"If you think one cut isn't enough… two would be fine too."
Shing—
Steel rasped from its sheath.
Kenpachi drew his Zanpakutō, long-bladed, its edge pitted and jagged with countless notches, the weapon of a man who had fought more battles than one could count.
Without expression, he rested the blade against Nobu's neck.
"Kid… you're interesting. You think you can kill me today?"
Nobu smiled faintly. "You exaggerate, Captain Zaraki. This is just a spar. When we're done, I still have to get back to the division—Fourth has plenty of work waiting for me."
"No."
Kenpachi's voice was rough, his eyes boring into Nobu's.
"Today… only one of us walks out that door."
Nobu sighed lightly.
"So, Captain Zaraki… are you going to take that cut, or not?"
The moment the words fell—a violent reiatsu exploded from Kenpachi's body,
whipping Nobu's shihakushō in the blast, splintering the wooden floor beneath his feet with a web of cracks.
Then—a flash of blinding steel came crashing down from above.
BOOM