Ikkaku's Request for a Fight

Beneath the dark gray sky, Asano Kiyoshi held a bouquet of white chrysanthemums and gently placed it before Bannai Daigo's grave.

Behind him stood Bannai Daigo's family, their faces still streaked with undried tears. As they watched Asano Kiyoshi come to pay his respects, Bannai Daigo's wife merely wiped her tears away and gave Asano Kiyoshi a deep bow.

Asano Kiyoshi silently returned the gesture, the scene of Bannai Daigo's death replaying over and over in his mind.

That shattered body, the flying flesh and blood, the warm blood—they all left him with an inescapable sense of guilt.

Bannai Daigo's youngest child lay before the grave, sobbing loudly. Rain poured down in sheets, washing over the bones and blood atop the grave, washing away all sin and obsession.

Asano Kiyoshi walked blankly along the cemetery path, looking at the bleak blue-gray bricks washed by the rain, a large part of his clothes already soaked through.

At that moment, an Uncle with brown hair and a pink feathered haori appeared beside Asano Kiyoshi.

Shunsui held up an umbrella, sheltering Asano Kiyoshi beneath it. He stroked his lightly stubbled beard, bent his tall frame slightly, sighed, and said to Asano Kiyoshi, "Does it hurt?"

Asano Kiyoshi froze for a moment. Once he recognized the visitor, he was about to bow when Shunsui pulled him close by the shoulder. Shunsui waved a hand and continued, "There's no captain right now. Just an Uncle a little older than you. Don't be so stiff."

Hearing Shunsui's words, Asano Kiyoshi fell silent for a moment before nodding somewhat gloomily. "Yes, Captain Kyoraku. It does hurt..."

Shunsui looked up at the gloomy sky and said, "It always feels strange at first. Take it slowly..."

After saying that, Shunsui said nothing more. He simply stayed quietly at Asano Kiyoshi's side, holding the umbrella for him.

Seeing the confusion in Asano Kiyoshi's eyes, Shunsui smiled and asked, "What is it? Did you think I'd say a lot to comfort you?"

Asano Kiyoshi answered with a little embarrassment, "Yeah, more or less."

"Hahaha, I'm not very good at comforting people either. Besides, when something like this happens, other people's comforting words aren't all that useful. Taking a walk with you might be better. And anyway, a young guy like you probably wouldn't want comfort from an old Uncle like me."

Hearing Shunsui's teasing tone, Asano Kiyoshi could not help but laugh. He then wanted to take the umbrella from Shunsui and hold it himself as the junior, but Shunsui refused with a smile. "I'm much taller than you, so it's easier for me to hold it. Besides, what adult lets a child hold an umbrella for them? Leave things like holding umbrellas to the adults. All you need to do is grow strong beneath our umbrellas. That's what the old man who once held an umbrella for me taught me."

Hearing Shunsui's description, Asano Kiyoshi did not need to guess who he meant.

The two walked down streets of gray bricks and tiles. Raindrops fell upon the paper umbrella with a steady patter, rich with rhythm. As the rain continued to fall, Asano Kiyoshi felt much better. There was little he could do about this. It had been Bannai Daigo's choice, and it had also been Asano Kiyoshi's choice. They both had things they wished to protect. To die fighting for something—that was perhaps the finest fate for a Shinigami.

Shaking his head, Asano Kiyoshi still felt a little stifled inside.

Watching the youth's departing figure, Shunsui stood where he was. His pink haori looked especially conspicuous amid the many muted colors around him. Then he lightly scratched his head and sighed. "The worries of youth..."

Then the pink haori vanished from the spot. Uncles had their worries too. His stern, bespectacled lieutenant was the source of his worries~

Endless paperwork and endless stamps to seal~

After returning to the hospital, Asano Kiyoshi smiled when he saw that Yumichika and Ikkaku had mostly recovered. He briefly told them what had happened afterward.

When they heard that Asano Kiyoshi had dealt with that Hollow all by himself, Ikkaku once again challenged him to a fight.

This time, Asano Kiyoshi did not refuse. The two of them snuck out of the Fourth Division barracks and came to an open space.

Although Yumichika tried to stop them, he only said a few token words. He knew Ikkaku's personality well enough to know that he was unlikely to listen.

Thus, left with no other choice, he could only serve as referee, watching over the battle and keeping lookout for them.

The early summer night was not too stuffy. A beam of moonlight fell as Ikkaku's lips curled slightly. Light glinted off his bald head as he stared at Asano Kiyoshi, his eyes narrowing. Streaks of cold light shot from those small eyes, carrying an intimidating force that pierced the soul.

With a clang, the two drew their Zanpakuto from their sheaths at the same time.

The Scroll within Asano Kiyoshi's mind also displayed Ikkaku's stats:

Name: Madarame Ikkaku

Slash: 39 (After the system's instruction and training, his Zanjutsu ability had improved considerably)

Hakuda: 42 (The system's training had consolidated the fighting ability he developed during his street thug days)

Demon: 20 (Still so terrible that words could not describe it. What was going on with that bald head?)

Shunpo: 39 (After learning Shunpo, combined with his natural battle instincts, his proficiency had risen quickly)

Reiatsu: Sixth-Seat Reiatsu

Overall Rating: 140 (He possessed strength close to that of an ordinary division's Fifteenth Seat, but his fighting spirit was exceptionally strong. Host, please treat him with caution!)

Zanpakuto: Hozukimaru (Shikai learned)!

Looking at Ikkaku's numbers, Asano Kiyoshi silently nodded. Ikkaku's rate of improvement had also been fast. Perhaps because he had been provoked by that Pig-faced Hollow, Ikkaku had actually already comprehended Shikai.

The reason Asano Kiyoshi had accepted Ikkaku's challenge was simple. He also wanted to know how far his strength had reached. Besides, constantly refusing Ikkaku's requests for battle was not a good way to make friends. To be friends with a battle maniac like Ikkaku, one had to cater to his preferences. What was more, it was only a friendly spar. There was no harm in it.

Seeing the two assume their stances, the helplessness on Yumichika's face turned serious. Though he was not a battle maniac, his respect for battle was no less than anyone else's. On such a solemn occasion, he would not show his usual playful manner.

A dark cloud slowly covered the moon. Then, against the backdrop of the night, the two figures moved like ghosts!