The sun had dipped just below the Seireitei walls, casting long amber shadows across the Division 4 training ground. Ethan stood alone at the center of the field, his body still humming from the hellish training earlier. The world felt quiet now—too quiet. Almost as if the air itself was holding its breath.
He raised Hōkabana in front of him. The blade's red tint glimmered faintly, still warm from the countless explosions he'd forced it through.
"Akahana," he murmured. "You there?"
Her voice slid into his mind instantly, sultry and mischievous as ever.
"Always. You don't get rid of me that easily, sweetheart."
Ethan exhaled in relief. "Unohana said today's training wasn't done."
"She was right." Akahana's tone sharpened. "You've learned to bloom me… but you haven't learned to wield me yet."
Ethan frowned. "I'm wielding you right now."
"No," she corrected. "You're holding me. There's a difference."
Before Ethan could ask, the world around him suddenly blurred—the ground dissolved under his feet, the skies split open—
and he was pulled violently into his inner world.
---
Inside Ethan's Inner World
The crimson flower field spread infinitely in all directions, each petal glowing faintly like warm embers. The sky overhead roared with swirling red clouds and cracking golden veins of energy—Akahana's domain, wild and unstable.
She stood in front of him the moment his vision cleared.
Long, crimson hair cascading to her waist.
Golden eyes burning hotter than an active volcano.
Her kimono half-open like she never cared about buttons or modesty.
Her smile sharp enough to cut steel.
Akahana stepped toward him barefoot, petals burning under each step.
"Ethan," she purred, "it's time."
He swallowed. "Time… for what exactly?"
Akahana pressed two fingers to his chest. "To see my real form."
The petals around them exploded upward in a spiral of glowing red shards. The field trembled. The sky cracked open with a roar.
Akahana's voice echoed—both gentle and thunderous.
"You've been using the outer shell of my power. The safe mode. The restrained spark."
Her eyes glowed.
"Now I'll show you the flame."
She snapped her fingers.
The world detonated.
---
The Transformation
Ethan's blade shimmering in his hand suddenly cracked—not breaking, but shedding its outer layer like molten armor peeling away. Heat surged through his arm, through his chest, through every vein.
Akahana stepped behind him, her hands sliding over his arms, guiding his grip as if holding him in an intimate dance.
"Don't fight it," she whispered in his ear. "Let the explosion reshape you."
The sword dissolved into red light—
re-forging itself in his grasp—
metal folding, stretching, sharpening—
FWOOM.
A long crimson saber emerged, glowing faintly with an inner furnace-like heartbeat. The blade wasn't jagged or heavy—it was elegant, curved, refined. A weapon meant for precision as much as destruction.
Thin glowing lines—like blooming petals—ran along its surface.
Ethan's breath hitched. "This is—"
"My Saber Form," Akahana said proudly.
"The version of me that answers your intent, not your fear."
Ethan swung it experimentally.
The air didn't explode.
It rippled.
A focused wave of power whooshed past the field of flowers, cutting a trench clean through the earth without even disturbing the petals beside it.
Akahana smirked. "Now you understand."
Ethan blinked at the perfect cut. "This isn't an explosion."
"It's a compressed explosion," she corrected. "Not a blast."
She brushed her lips close to his ear.
"A blade."
---
Saber Form Mechanics
Akahana lifted his wrist with one hand, guiding the blade down toward a petal.
"This form doesn't explode outward. The power is directed along the blade's edge—focused, controlled. Like slicing with condensed detonation."
"Like… a bomb turned into a scalpel?"
Akahana grinned. "A very sexy scalpel."
Ethan laughed despite himself.
---
Power Demonstration
Akahana waved her hand, summoning a massive obsidian monolith into the field.
"Cut it."
Ethan stared. "That thing is the size of a small house!"
"Mm-hmm."
She crossed her arms, leaning back.
"I'll be disappointed if it survives."
He inhaled, steadying himself.
The saber pulsed—BOOM-BOOM—like a heartbeat inside his palm.
Ethan stepped forward, exhaled, and swung.
SHRRRRRRRRRRK—
The explosion didn't erupt. It traveled as a razor-thin line along the blade.
The monolith didn't crack.
It didn't shatter.
It simply slid apart, sliced perfectly clean down the middle like warm butter—
each half dropping silently.
Ethan froze. "I… did that?"
Akahana wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing his cheek.
"Yes," she whispered proudly. "We did that."
---
Returning to Reality
The inner world collapsed softly, like petals falling from a blossom.
Ethan blinked back into the physical world—
and gasped.
Hōkabana's Saber Form was still in his hands, pulsing with red light.
Unohana stood at the edge of the field, watching with mild amusement.
"My, my," she said. "It seems Akahana has revealed something new."
Ethan held up the saber. "She… upgraded."
"Oh?" Unohana smiled warmly.
"Then show me."
Ethan stiffened. "Show you… in combat?"
"Of course," she said sweetly.
"How else would I confirm your progress?"
Akahana whispered in Ethan's head, delighted:
"Oh, this is going to be fun. Let's cut the battlefield a few new skylines."
Ethan gulped.
Unohana unsheathed Minazuki.
"Begin."
And Ethan realized—
tonight would be worse than anything.
But he couldn't help the grin forming.
Because for the first time…
He wasn't afraid to bloom.