Bleach : I Need To Rizz To Become Stronger ?!-Chapter 66: Hesitation Means Defeat

The crash of Asauchi clashing against spear rang through the kendo hall, thunderous enough to shake the rafters. The wooden floor beneath Madarame Ikkaku's feet cracked like a spider's web as he slid back from the impact. Shin winced.

Damn. That's going to cost me.

A moment later, spiritual particles surged around him, forming a translucent barrier that expanded outward until it sealed the entire hall in a shimmering dome.

Ikkaku immediately tensed, blade ready. "What the hell did you just do?"

"Relax," Shin replied casually. "It's just a barrier. This is a school, after all—too much noise and we'll have an audience. You can release your full reiatsu now."

Ikkaku grinned wide. "You should've said so sooner!"

In the next breath, a vortex of pure pressure burst from his body—fierce and wild like a blood-hungry beast unleashed.

Now wielding his Shikai, Hōzukimaru, as a long spear, Ikkaku's strikes came faster and harder, each thrust a reckless, savage blur. Though uninjured, the bloodlust woven into his reiatsu was enough to make Shin feel as though the scent of gore was already in the air.

From overhead, Ikkaku dropped like a hammer, spear stabbing toward Shin with brute force.

But Shin merely shifted sideways, letting the strike whistle past him.

CLANG! The spearhead smashed into the ground—but oddly, did no damage this time.

Ikkaku was unfazed, already landing and swinging again. The long reach of Hōzukimaru allowed him to dominate the range, forcing Shin to stay at least two meters back.

"What's wrong, kid?" Ikkaku roared. "Where's all that fire from earlier!?"

It looked like Shin was on the defensive, but he weaved through the flurry of attacks with unbothered fluidity. Dodging, always just barely out of reach.

He hasn't even tried to counter yet, Ikkaku thought.

Even if Ikkaku had learned Bankai (which Shin doubted he'd use here), this style didn't impress him. It was wild, feral, unrefined. Perfect for overwhelming lesser opponents—but against Shin's surgical technique, it was like watching a monkey flail a sword.

Ikkaku thrust again—missed. His growing frustration was visible now. He seemed to be dominating the fight with his longer reach, but Shin's unshaken poise made it feel like he was being toyed with.

Why isn't he countering? Ikkaku's mind raced. Was Shin waiting for the perfect opening? Should he switch tactics? Or would doing so give Shin the edge to close the distance?

He hesitated.

Hesitation kills.

Ikkaku growled, eyes flashing. Mid-thrust, he suddenly twisted—turning his next stab into a downward slash.

But Shin was already moving.

He raised his Asauchi and caught the shaft of Hōzukimaru dead-on, blade sliding along the length of the spear with terrifying precision.

Shit—! Ikkaku's instincts screamed. Shin was closing in fast. With the spear's current form lacking a guard, it couldn't block a point-blank strike. At this rate, Shin would shear his hand clean off!

Panic flared.

Then—

"Split—Hōzukimaru!"

With a howl, Ikkaku activated the second form of his Zanpakutō. The spear split apart, transforming mid-swing into a three-section staff.

He snapped the chain tight, aiming to trap Shin's blade between the links—but it was already too late.

The instant Hōzukimaru changed shape, Shin's Asauchi had already vanished from his line of sight.

What—?

Like a wraith, Shin slipped past the chained segments, reappearing inside Ikkaku's blind spot—and his blade now hovered against the Third Seat's throat.

Shink.

A sharp breath hissed through Ikkaku's teeth. The steel at his jugular was so cold it burned. His muscles locked. His hands, gripping two sections of his Zanpakutō, hung frozen mid-motion.

Shin's voice came soft and lazy, but every syllable cut like a scalpel.

"Hesitation means defeat, Madarame-san."

Ikkaku gulped.

That first time, Shin had caught his opening.

This second time, he'd caught it again—and this time, with a maneuver so refined it bordered on art. Dropping his blade, feinting with footwork, reclaiming the weapon mid-motion...

This guy... Ikkaku thought, still frozen. Is this really what the Academy teaches these days? I've never seen anyone fight like this.

Shin lowered his blade, still smiling. "Looks like Vice-Captain Shiba gave me the wrong opponent after all."

A vein pulsed on Ikkaku's shining dome. He grit his teeth—but didn't retort.

He wasn't a sore loser. Not in a fair fight. Instead, he gave a low grunt.

Shin twirled his Asauchi into a graceful sword flourish, sheathed it with a click, and dispelled the reiryoku barrier surrounding the dojo.

"Thank you for the match."

Ikkaku stood tall, eyes narrowed, Zanpakutō returning to its sealed form.

"...You're graduating soon, aren't you?" he asked, voice rough.

"Next year," Shin replied. The current semester was nearly over. His final year awaited.

Ikkaku nodded. He didn't ask why someone this strong hadn't graduated early—he didn't care. He just said what was on his mind.

"Come join the Eleventh Division."

Shin tilted his head. "Hm?"

"You've got the sword for it. We're the combat division. No better place for a guy like you."

The Eleventh Division—the sword of the Gotei 13. Every generation's strongest swordsman had worn its mantle. In that regard, Ikkaku was right.

But Shin just smiled. "I appreciate the offer, really—but I've already been promised to a squad."

"...Which one?"

"Squad Four."

Silence.

"...Come again?"

"Squad Four."

"...No, no—you do mean Four, right?"

Ikkaku stared, face halfway between disbelief and nausea. Next to him, Yumichika looked just as dumbstruck.

Squad Eleven had no love for kido users, considering them cowards. But there was one group they looked down on even more...

The medics of Squad Four.