Chapter 13: Ryugetsu's Request
So… the lower the target's reiatsu, the higher the success rate, huh?
That ruled out Szayelaporro as a test subject — the clone he'd caught couldn't use any techniques anymore, just act as a one-time bomb.
And there weren't any enemies nearby. Testing something like this on his own squad members would be suicidal.
Wait… intelligent beings?
Mizuma paused, his eyes narrowing mischievously toward the Zanpakutō resting beside him.
A Zanpakutō was a form of intelligent life too, wasn't it?
And according to the skill description, the technique required an attack to trigger any real effect.
Then it's decided. You'll do nicely.
He focused, eyes widening. The border between iris and pupil dissolved into a deep, icy blue.
A sharp dizziness struck — the world spun and went black.
When his vision cleared, Mizuma realized his perspective had changed completely. He was no longer in the captain's quarters of the 8th Division.
He was… in a modern room.
To the left of the door stood a bookshelf. Ahead — a bed. A computer desk sat by the window, the whole place washed in cool blue tones. On the floor, a black-and-white cat with half an ear missing lay sprawled lazily.
"…"
He stood still for several seconds before exhaling a long, heavy sigh.
The inner world of his Zanpakutō…
was his own room?
He chuckled softly.
It had been a long time.
This was his old bedroom — from his previous life.
Twenty years apart, yet everything remained the same.
The faint tapping of keys echoed in the air, along with the muffled sounds of a video game leaking from cheap headphones — the exact game he used to play obsessively.
Taking two steps forward, Mizuma noticed the cat — "ChingChongBeelzebubCthulluAbominationPlusUltaAllForOneOneForAllNeko" — glance up at him, stretch, rub against his leg, meow twice, and return to bask in the sunlight beneath the window.
Then he saw the person sitting at the computer desk.
A young woman in her early twenties — white blouse, pleated skirt, long black hair, calm dark eyes. Her figure was neat, balanced, and her face… both familiar and foreign.
If he'd been born as a woman, or had a sister, she would have looked exactly like this.
"You finally came?" the woman said without looking up, her tone casual as she stared at the monitor. "I've been waiting a long time — precisely seventeen years, three months, and four days."
A familiar number.
Seventeen years, three months, and four days ago, he'd enrolled in Shin'ō Academy and received his first asauchi.
"Yeah. I've been wanting to see you too."
Mizuma sighed, sitting down on the bed and watching her profile.
"Ryugetsu."
To be honest, he wasn't the type who talked much with his Zanpakutō.
Back then, he'd always found the idea a little strange. Sure, he knew a spirit resided within, but after a year of trying without ever getting a response, he simply started treating it as a tool — a power to be wielded.
The only reason he'd achieved shikai so early was thanks to the System's daily "+1 Swordsmanship" quests. Since acquiring Ryugetsu, he'd only ever heard her voice three times — faint, distorted, half unreal.
So he'd stopped trying.
With the System on his side, communication had seemed… optional.
Maybe that was why his Zanjutsu meditation had always failed.
This, right now — seeing her face to face — was the first true meeting.
"Hmph…"
Ryugetsu pursed her lips, finally turning her head. Her eyes met his — calm, distant, and slightly cold.
"What brings you here… my master?"
"Just call me by my name, please," Mizuma said dryly.
Honestly, hearing his female self address him as "Master" was enough to make his scalp tingle — especially since she was dead serious.
He brushed away the goosebumps from his arms and tried to shift topics.
"So… uh… how do I achieve Bankai?"
"That's far too soon for you," Ryugetsu replied, sighing softly.
"Please don't underestimate my power. It's not something to be unlocked lightly."
"Yeah. I figured."
Mizuma shrugged, unsurprised. Even his current shikai drained him quickly — at his level, activating a Bankai might burn him to ash before the enemy even landed a hit.
Imagine dying from your own sword — it'd be the joke of the century.
They'd probably still mock him for it a thousand years later.
"Alright, then let's talk about you."
Leaning back onto the bed, he stared at the ceiling, feeling a wave of nostalgia.
"I've had you for seventeen years. I've tried reaching you so many times, but you never once responded. Why?"
Ryugetsu didn't answer directly. Instead, she tilted her head and said quietly,
"Plenty of Shinigami die without ever speaking to their Zanpakutō."
"But those people never awaken their blades," Mizuma smiled faintly.
"I did — even if it was with… outside help. You never resisted me, though. Why?"
"Because of loyalty," she said simply.
"I was born to serve you. Refusal was never an option."
"…"
Perhaps because this was his inner world, words weren't necessary.
Just looking at her, he knew what she meant.
He saw flashes — memories, feelings — buried deep within.
Zanpakutō were unique entities: born from the asauchi forged by Oetsu Nimaiya, fused with a fragment of their wielder's soul. They could become partners, friends, lovers, mentors…
Or anything else that could share a bond of life and death.
Because in truth — a Zanpakutō was the Shinigami themself.
A reflection of the same soul, different only in form.
Mizuma and Ryugetsu were no exception.
Born from him, she understood him better than anyone.
She had watched him longer than anyone.
"I see…"
So she hadn't rejected him out of disdain — just quiet anger at being ignored.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't consider your feelings."
Ryugetsu raised an eyebrow, her gaze unreadable.
Then, for reasons he couldn't grasp, the atmosphere suddenly lightened.
After a moment's silence, she removed her headphones, walked up to him, and leaned in close enough for their breaths to mingle.
A small smile tugged at her lips. "Alright, fine. I forgive you."
"That's it?" Mizuma blinked. "Just like that?"
"What, were you expecting me to cry and roll on the floor?"
Her eyes curved with a teasing glint. "You're a cruel master."
Then her expression softened, thoughtful.
"Well… actually, I do have one request."
She tilted her head, voice lowering playfully. "Will you grant me this tiny wish?"
"As long as it's nothing too crazy…"
"At times like this, you're supposed to agree immediately," she sighed.
"Anyway, let's make it a riddle:
If someone seeks another's help, what's the first thing they should do?"
That one was easy.
"Alright… I understand."
Mizuma bowed his head slightly and said, earnestly—
"Please help me, Ryugetsu."
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〔TL〕
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