Muken.
Dark red blood still flowed across the ground, and Unohana's Bankai showed no sign of fading.
Kenpachi Zaraki stood in the middle of the blood, gripping his Zanpakuto.
All the wounds on his body had healed, and his Reiatsu was much stronger than before the battle began.
But his steadily rising presence had stopped growing.
Yoriichi watched Zaraki.
His blade did not fall again.
Unohana noticed the change as well.
She closed her eyes, sensing the flow of Reiatsu within Zaraki.
The power that had been forcibly suppressed had gradually begun to loosen.
But at this point, it could go no further.
Unohana spoke slowly.
"It seems we've reached the limit."
Zaraki raised his head, displeasure showing on his face.
Unohana looked at him.
"The rest will be up to him."
Yoriichi nodded.
Zaraki abruptly raised his Zanpakuto, pointing its blade at Yoriichi.
"Hey!"
He grinned, his gaze turning fierce again.
"We're not finished yet!"
With that, Zaraki prepared to charge again.
Yoriichi raised a hand in front of him.
"It's over."
"Over?"
Zaraki frowned, and the smile vanished from his face.
He hated nothing more than other people deciding when his battles ended.
Yoriichi paid no mind to his mood and simply looked at him calmly.
"The Quincy will attack again."
"You'll have plenty of chances to fight."
Zaraki tightened his grip on his sword, the displeasure in his eyes undiminished.
Yoriichi continued, "What I want to tell you is that you don't need to suppress your strength anymore."
His voice carried far through the empty expanse of Muken.
Zaraki froze.
He seemed to understand, yet also seemed not to.
No need to suppress my strength?
When had I ever suppressed my strength?
For Kenpachi Zaraki, fighting had always meant acting on instinct.
He slashed when he wanted