Chapter 38: Yoruichi Shihōin's Doubts
Narrator's POV
Location: Urahara Shop
Urahara calmly observed Ichigo, who lay fast asleep after unleashing his final attack. The boy had regained his Shinigami powers, and although the sight filled him with a quiet sense of pride, he couldn't help but sigh as he glanced at his signature hat.
"This was my fourth favorite hat," he muttered, holding the damaged item between his fingers, noticing the burn that had taken a piece off the brim. "That last attack was dangerous. If I hadn't covered myself with the blood barrier, I'd probably be missing an arm right now."
With a casual gesture, he placed the hat back on his head, tilting it slightly as usual. Just then, the sound of swift footsteps made him turn. Yoruichi entered with her usual elegant yet firm stride, her expression clearly showing irritation.
"How did it go? Did you find him?"
"No," Yoruichi replied curtly. "I followed his trail all the way to the central tower of Karakura… but it vanished. Just disappeared into thin air." She frowned, frustrated. Her tracking skills had never failed her before.
Urahara narrowed his eyes, a playful smile tugging at his lips. Seeing Yoruichi so frustrated was almost nostalgic—he hadn't seen that look on her face in a long time.
"Oh!" he exclaimed in a teasing tone. "So you couldn't find young Akira? Don't tell me… are you getting rusty, Yoruichi? Lost your edge, perhaps?"
A mischievous smile curved his lips, though in a mockingly graceful motion, he covered it with his fan to hide it. It was rare for anyone to escape Yoruichi's radar— and that only made Akira all the more intriguing.
"What did you just say about my skills!?" Yoruichi snapped, spinning toward him with a glare cold enough to freeze Hell itself.
"Me? Say something about your skills?" Urahara replied with feigned innocence, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'd never dare, Yoruichi. You must've misheard me… maybe your cat form is starting to affect your hearing."
He turned away with exaggerated nonchalance—mainly to hide the smirk that was starting to break through.
Still in her black cat form, Yoruichi narrowed her eyes in irritation but didn't respond. Only Urahara knew the truth behind that transformation—one of her many secrets.
With a faint huff, she turned and began pacing silently through the shop, her tail swishing with restrained annoyance. Not being able to track Akira down bothered her more than she cared to admit.
According to Urahara, Akira had defeated a lieutenant… and even managed to keep up with Byakuya for a brief moment. If that was true, then he was someone they needed on their side.
The problem was simple: They couldn't find him.
"How the hell does he just… vanish completely?" Yoruichi muttered under her breath, her paws gliding silently over the wooden floor.
And then, a memory she had long buried resurfaced. She saw it vividly—the day a Hollow devoured a human… not just any human, but Akira himself. Back then, he had been weak, barely a human with a faint trace of spiritual pressure. She had seen it happen… and did nothing.
At that moment, she had dismissed it as another casualty. Another soul lost to a Hollow. She hadn't considered it important. It wasn't her mission to intervene.
Now, however… that decision weighed heavily on her.
(What if he remembers? … What if he knows I let him die?) she thought, stopping for a brief moment.
Back then, Akira had been nothing more than a weak, insignificant human—just another with a flicker of spiritual power. She hadn't lifted a finger to save him. She'd simply watched from afar… and walked away.
It wasn't her duty. She had seen countless deaths over the centuries—why would that one have been any different?
But now… everything had changed.
Now they wanted that same boy—the one they had allowed to die—to help them.
Yoruichi clenched her teeth, even in her feline form. It was an uncomfortable feeling. She knew Akira owed them nothing. He had no reason to get involved.
And if he did learn the truth… Would he still help them?
Or would he leave them to their fate… the same way they had left him?
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Location: Demon Tower | Floor 15
Akira stood focused, his breathing steady as he stared at his hands. He had made his decision—he selected the Heartburst Liberation Fist fighting style.
He recognized both styles offered by the system; they came from the world of One Punch Man. The Dark Fist belonged to Suiryu, while the other—more brutal and destructive—was used by Bang… and most notably, Garou.
He knew little about the Dark Fist, and what he had seen didn't impress him much. It relied heavily on acrobatic kicks and rapid spinning movements. That wasn't his style. Akira was more direct, more ruthless—he preferred the raw, crushing power of his fists. Besides, the Dark Fist lacked a distinct signature technique.
The style he did choose, however— that one he knew well.
The Flowing Water Fist deflected attacks. The Whirlwind Iron-Cutting Fist sliced through anything. And the Heartburst Liberation Fist… struck harder than any of them.
It amplified the user's strength to absurd levels, and once mastered, became an incredibly dangerous art capable of shattering even the strongest foes.
"That's why I chose it… I know how it works. And I know how deadly it can be," he murmured, clenching his fist with resolve.
That was when he sensed Igris approaching. The shadow knight stopped right in front of him, standing tall and silent, then extended his hand.
He was holding something.
Akira raised an eyebrow curiously and accepted what Igris offered—a black ring, adorned with faint glowing patterns, like streams of molten lava flowing across its surface and inner band.
As soon as he touched it, a system window appeared before his eyes:
[Notification]
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Item: Magma Ring
Type: Accessory | Ring
Rank: A
Effect:
Reduces fire-type damage by 35%.
Decreases received heat by 45%.
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Akira smiled, satisfied. It was exactly what he needed to continue climbing the tower. The environment was becoming more hostile by the floor, and if the upcoming levels involved fire or extreme heat, this ring would be an invaluable advantage.
"Good find, Igris. Just in time."
He smiled genuinely as he slid the Magma Ring onto his finger. In a place like this—where heat was suffocating and fire seemed to burst from every corner—it was practically a divine gift.
"Thank you, Igris. This is really useful," he said with a sincere smile.
Igris nodded proudly, his posture straight and noble. Though he never spoke, his body language made it clear—he was proud to have brought something valuable for his master.
"Alright… is this area clear?" Akira asked as he continued walking.
The shadow knight nodded again. The area was completely clean—no trace of demons remained.
"I see… then let's move to the next floor. You'll be in charge of the shadows while I train my new fighting style."
Igris nodded once more, accepting the new responsibility without hesitation. Commanding the army of shadows was no small task—but he wasn't just any shadow. He was the first, the strongest. He knew Akira's training was top priority, and he would ensure his master was not interrupted.
The group pressed onward.
Akira walked at the front, his steps firm, eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"When we reach the twentieth floor, we'll leave the Demon Tower. Even though potions keep me active… nothing beats rest and natural recovery."
He knew his body needed more than artificial energy to truly grow. But for now, he had to make the most of every second inside the tower.
His strength wouldn't stop here.
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End of Chapter.