Inside another palace.
The space here was lofty, its arched dome embroidered with intricate textile patterns in gold thread.
Senjumaru Shutara stood in the center.
Her bright red lips curved slightly as she watched Yan Si standing opposite her.
"Your Shinigami uniform is quite nice."
Her voice was soft, with a certain languid drawl.
"A fine cut, and the robe is rather interesting... woven from Hollow power, is it?"
Her gaze settled on Yan Si's face.
"The mask is made from Quincy power. How exquisite."
She tilted her head slightly, and the six golden mechanical arms behind her slowly unfolded.
The arms were slender, with intricate gears at their joints and sharp metal fingertips.
"A shame, though. Each piece is lovely, but they don't go well together." Shutara extended one mechanical hand, tracing through the air with its metal index finger.
"Each makes too strong a statement. The ensemble lacks harmony."
The mechanical hand withdrew and rested against her chin as she smiled.
"Why not take them off and let me improve them for you?"
Yan Si still held Sayafushi in his hand.
Shutara's gaze fell on the blade, and her bright red lips parted again.
"This blade should have been made into a sewing needle."
Regret colored her tone.
"What a waste to make it into a Zanpakuto."
The mechanical arms behind her shifted slightly.
Tiny silver glints shone at the fingertips of one arm. It held a slender sewing needle, its tip gleaming coldly beneath the lights.
"Surprised?"
Shutara spoke softly.
"Indeed, few people use needles as weapons."
The needle rose, pointing toward Yan Si.
"If you lick it, take care not to pierce your tongue."
"Sashikuro."
All six mechanical arms behind her moved at once.
They weren't attacking. They were weaving.
The arms swept through the air