A Name

Kao Susumu stared at the Zanpakuto in Hongjiang's hand, his eyes bloodshot. So that damn Diezuka Hongjiang had been telling the truth: the Asauchi in his own hand wasn't the best one at all.

He wanted it so badly. No—in Kao Susumu's eyes, the sword had been his to begin with. Hongjiang had gotten it through underhanded means, and now he would right that wrong and take back what belonged to him.

"What's that idiot trying to do?"

"Is he trying to steal someone's Zanpakuto?" another boy asked with a shake of his head and a laugh. "Commoners are commoners. They're useless no matter how hard you try to prop them up."

"Not all of them. Hongjiang's an exception, isn't he?"

By now, Hongjiang's reputation among the new students had quietly begun to change. A monster who could turn an Asauchi into a Zanpakuto the moment he got his hands on one was impressive enough to make even the nobles set aside their prejudices.

The teacher leading the group on the viewing platform was grinning from ear to ear. He'd known Diezuka Hongjiang was a genius. No wonder the Head Captain had chosen him as his personal disciple!

What was that kid trying to do? The teacher had just noticed Kao Susumu's movements. Was he actually trying to take the Zanpakuto from Hongjiang?

What an idiot! the teacher cursed inwardly. He lifted his heel, about to step in and stop him. He still wanted to see whether this genius could make an even greater breakthrough—perhaps achieve Shikai.

Of course, being able to communicate with one's Sword Spirit and achieve Shikai right after transforming an Asauchi into a Zanpakuto was the stuff of legend. It was difficult, but what if Hongjiang actually managed it? He wouldn't allow anyone to interfere with Hongjiang now.

Just then, the situation in the training ground changed again. The teacher lowered his raised foot. It seemed he wouldn't have to step in after all.

The teacher wasn't the only one keeping an eye on Hongjiang. His close friends, Urahara Kisuke and Shihoin Yoruichi, were just as eager to see him take another step forward.

Kao Susumu was just two steps away from the Zanpakuto he wanted, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take them.

Yoruichi now stood between them, sword held level. From the look of her, if Kao Susumu took so much as one more step, she would swing her sword without hesitation. He didn't doubt it for a second.

But that wasn't the main reason he couldn't move. A sword was already pointed at him, its blade less than an inch from his throat. Forget taking another step—even the slightest movement would leave him decapitated.

The sword belonged to Urahara Kisuke. The smile that usually rested on his face had vanished, and his narrowed eyes were open. A dangerous aura radiated from him.

"Back off..." Urahara pushed his sword a little closer, the blade pressing directly against Kao Susumu's throat. His eyes held not a trace of emotion as he said coldly, "Or I'll... kill you!"

"I'm backing off, I'm backing off..." The cold against his throat finally brought Kao Susumu to his senses, while Urahara's gaze, as if he were looking at a dead man, filled him with even greater fear. His hands trembling, Kao Susumu raised them over his head and backed away step by step as if surrendering.

Once Kao Susumu had retreated almost fifty meters, Urahara sheathed his sword and went to Yoruichi's side. His smile returned.

"Which possibility do you think it is?"

Yoruichi knew what Urahara meant. The three of them had never seen one another's Zanpakuto, but they knew that each of them had one and had already mastered Shikai.

And now, the sword in Hongjiang's hand was undeniably a Zanpakuto. Either he was lying to them, which made little sense and seemed unlikely,

or Hongjiang had two different Zanpakuto. Logically, that was the most likely possibility.

But it was also the most impossible. No one could possess two different Zanpakuto. It simply couldn't happen!

Yoruichi couldn't make sense of it. She shook her head and said quietly, "I can't guess. We'll let him explain it himself later. If he won't, I'll beat it out of him!"

Hongjiang had no idea what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was feeling wonderful. Even if he went through this experience again, he'd still find it fascinating.

He was now inside a large room—not his physical body, of course, but his consciousness. Candlelight flickered within, illuminating the Hannya Masks around the room. They seemed to come alive in the glow, grinning one moment and snarling the next.

An Asauchi's transformation into a Zanpakuto was one of the signs that someone had become a Soul Reaper. A Zanpakuto had its own name, a name all its own.

Communicating with one's Zanpakuto and learning its name was called Shikai. It also meant that one had left the ranks of low-level Soul Reapers behind.

The process could take a long or short time, depending on the person. Some learned the name in a flash of inspiration; others truly heard the sword's voice telling them. No one knew exactly what it took to learn the name and achieve Shikai.

But if you could see the physical form of your Zanpakuto, then you were sure to achieve Shikai. That was the case with Hongjiang now. The physical form of his Zanpakuto was right there in the room.

And if nothing unexpected happened, it was the pitch-black armor at the very back—a bizarre suit of armor that seemed to be worn by someone invisible.

"Are you me?" Hongjiang asked the Hannya Mask hovering in midair.

"You should know that if you can come here, it proves I am you." A hoarse voice came from the mask, sounding as if it were having trouble breathing.

"You're being straightforward this time..." Hongjiang shrugged and muttered to himself. Then he reached out and continued, "Now that we've gotten this far, I don't suppose you're going to keep me in suspense?"

"My name?" An armguard gripped Hongjiang's hand tightly as a hoarse voice spoke. "Don't forget. I'm called..."

In the Sword Chamber, Hongjiang's eyes snapped open.

"Was that just a dream?" Hongjiang murmured. He looked at the short sword in his left hand and shouted, "Catch him..."

"Jiagui!"

The short sword Hongjiang had been gripping in his left hand vanished. Everyone in the training ground rubbed their eyes. They hadn't even blinked, and yet the sword that had been there a moment ago was gone.

Their gazes shifted slightly toward Hongjiang. At some point, a black glove had appeared on his left hand. Its fingertips curled inward like hooks, and a Hannya carving adorned its thick back.

His forearm was also covered in smooth, pitch-black armor. It was dull and looked more like an insect's carapace than metal. Plain in appearance, it nevertheless gave off a sinister, murderous air.

"Shikai! This has to be Shikai!" The teacher had already rushed over from the stone platform. His face was flushed as he stared at the armor on Hongjiang's left arm, repeating the words over and over.

"Excellent! A genius, a true genius! No wonder the Head Captain thought so highly of you!" The teacher kept patting Hongjiang on the shoulder, showering him with praise.

Hearing this, the new students gathered around the training ground erupted in excited chatter.

"He's a monster!"

"That sword's called Jiagui, right? It looks so cool!" a girl said, clasping her hands to her cheeks.

Of course, not everyone agreed. Some voices expressed a different opinion.

"Fast, sure, but it looks kind of ordinary."

"It looks like a direct-attack type. Probably pretty weak."

"I think so too. The spectacle was underwhelming."

Kao Susumu was among them. Seeing how ordinary Hongjiang's Zanpakuto looked, he felt much better.

Praise and suspicion swirled together, but there was no denying that Hongjiang was the most eye-catching student there. For a long time to come, he would be the one everyone kept watching.

During the spiritual-pressure test, he'd said that was his last chance to shine. He hadn't expected to eat his words so soon.

Seeing the bewildered looks on Yoruichi and Urahara's faces, Hongjiang couldn't help feeling troubled.

It felt great to stand out, but this time he'd attracted far too much attention. For him and Old Man Yama, things had gone seriously off plan—enough to give them a headache for a long time.