Bleach: Reborn — Chapter 145 - A Second Was All It Took

"Here!"

A resounding, forceful shout snapped everyone's gaze across the arena. It was a tall, powerfully built young man with red hair, lightning-bolt tattoos etched between his brows.

"Renji Abarai?" Behind the blindfold, Wayne's eyes glimmered faintly.

In just a single month, Wayne really hadn't taken the time to observe this problem child. His mind had been entirely focused on his own training. Aside from Momo and Kira, whom he had known from before, Renji Abarai and Kuchiki... uh, no. At this point, Rukia still didn't bear the Kuchiki name.

Wayne had not yet reached out to these canon characters on his own initiative. Perhaps after this grand event ended, it would be time to make contact, especially with Rukia, who would later have the Hōgyoku implanted in her by Kisuke Urahara. No matter the angle, this was someone he absolutely had to get to know.

Renji stepped down from the viewing platform and entered the arena. Wayne folded his arms across his chest and watched him with keen interest. Just one month of study, how much could this problem child really have learned? Wayne was genuinely curious to find out.

"First-year student. State your name."

"Renji Abarai." Renji's voice came out low and gruff. "I'm challenging this upperclassman."

He pointed to a second-year student who had not used Shikai and whose Reiatsu had been completely drained in the previous match, still not fully recovered.

Perhaps aware of his own limits, Renji didn't dare skip grades. He simply picked the upperclassman he judged to be the weakest. His goal was almost certainly the ranking rewards. Even the lowest-tier prize was precious to Renji right now. That springwater elixir crafted by the 12th Division was enough to further improve Renji Abarai's soul potential and strengthen his Reiatsu.

The challenged competitor gritted his teeth. He knew full well how hard it had been to get this far. Without the ability to release his Zanpakuto into Shikai, he had relied on combat skill and luck alone to fight his way here. The previous match had drained him completely. The 4th Division members had helped him recover, but not nearly enough to return him to peak condition. This was a tournament, but if this were a real battlefield, no enemy would give you time to fully recover. Restoring nearly half his Reiatsu was already the maximum the 4th Division could manage within the limited time available.

"Fine." Not choosing to forfeit, this medium-build second-year student resigned himself and accepted Renji's challenge.

It wasn't only Renji. A number of outstanding first-year students — along with others who simply thought themselves outstanding, raised their hands one after another and began picking their upperclassmen to challenge. The early bird catches the worm; wait too long and the easier targets would all be claimed.

After roughly twenty minutes, nearly two hundred first-year students had stepped onto the platform. They mostly picked second- or third-year students for their matches. Only a scant few chose opponents from the fourth year or above, not because they wanted to test themselves, but because the second-year slots were almost entirely filled. The remaining third-year students were beyond their ability to beat. With no better option, they settled on fourth-year participants.

"This year's freshman challenges are more numerous than the last two years," students from the upper years murmured among themselves on the viewing platform. They had all walked the same path year by year, and they remembered both the arrogance of youth and the dejection of defeat. For that, they were perfectly happy to watch the newcomers eat humble pie.

"True enough. But I can see this batch of newcomers isn't lacking in talent. I've even heard a few promising ones have already been stamped with approval by various squads." The students on the platform chatted freely, their gazes settling on the standouts their information networks had flagged.

"It's just a shame no one this year dares challenge the higher years. You know, if a first-year takes on a fourth- or fifth-year, the rewards multiply like crazy."

"What's so special about fifth-year? The rewards for a 64th-place finish in the sixth-year bracket are already several times better than a top-16 finish in the second or third year. I remember a few years back, a student jumped straight from first year to challenge the sixth year. He stopped at the top 32, but his multiplied rewards were higher than the second-year champion's."

"Are you talking about Kitazawa, the current sixth-year?" A fifth-year student stepped forward to ask.

"Yeah, that's the one. He's down there on the sixth-year field right now." Everyone followed the speaker's finger toward the sixth-year zone. There stood a tall, upright figure, Zanpakuto cradled in his arms, quietly waiting for the challenge matches to conclude. He didn't expect anyone to challenge him. Since joining Shin'ō Academy, he had rarely met his match. In his first year he had successfully challenged the sixth year, earning outstanding results and lavish rewards, and soared to prominence overnight. His name appeared in every year's challenge tournament after that, and he had claimed first place in the year rankings in both his third and fifth years. His second year he failed to take the championship because he was in the middle of awakening his Zanpakuto. His fourth year he ran into a monstrous student whose Zanpakuto perfectly countered his own; both exhausted their Reiatsu, and Kitazawa lost on the very last, spent-beyond-measure exchange.

Now this was his final Ranking Tournament. For whatever reason, Kitazawa had not graduated early and had chosen to remain at the academy, perhaps with the goal of staying on as an instructor someday. Even so, his record had already drawn the attention of several squads. In this last Ranking Tournament, he hoped to claim the championship once more and lay the final foundation for his future.

"Then, are there any more students who wish to join the challenge tournament?"

"I will!" At the very front of the stands, Momo slowly raised her hand. Just moments ago, Wayne hadn't rushed to pick anyone, so naturally Momo and Kira hadn't hurried onto the stage either. Even as they watched the pool of unchallenged upperclassmen grow stronger and stronger, neither felt any urgency. According to Wayne's expectations for them, he wanted them to temper themselves through combat, not compete merely for rewards, tempting as those rewards were.

Momo walked to the front of the stage and stopped before a female third-year upperclassman.

"Please grant me your instruction, Senior." Momo gave a slight bow. The senior's expression had been none too pleased, her brow tightly furrowed, but it relaxed just a little at that. Even knowing Momo was here to compete for rewards, the gesture softened her considerably.

On the other side, Kira selected a fourth-year upperclassman, also a Soul Reaper who had not yet released his Zanpakuto. The plain, standard Asauchi hilt didn't particularly catch Kira's eye. But during the earlier bouts Kira had watched this upperclassman carefully. He had no superfluous flair; he fought purely on swordsmanship and Shunpo. That was exactly the kind of fight Kira needed, so Kira chose him.

As for Wayne, Yū Nakai escorted him directly into the sixth-year combat zone, drawing a ripple of discussion from the audience below.

"That's... Tsukishiro Hinamori, isn't it?" First-year students on the viewing platform stared at the figure being supported forward.

"They say he's one of the most outstanding students ever admitted to Shin'ō Academy."

"The most outstanding of the lot."

"He's going to challenge the sixth year? Are you kidding? Isn't he blind?"

"Even blind, he's still the top of his year." The students broke into noisy chatter about this peculiar student.

"Though I've heard he hasn't done anything noteworthy this past month. People keep seeing him going to the tavern to drink."

"Has he gotten full of himself?"

"What does a first-year honors student have to be full of himself about? I think his shine has just faded. Word is a few newcomers behind him are on the verge of surpassing him in reputation, and even the teachers have stopped paying him attention."

"If you ask me, he wants to make a splash and win back his old glory."

"Ha. Don't embarrass yourself. That's the sixth year. I'm in the same class as Hinamori — he's nowhere near as strong as people say. Look, he can't even step onto the stage without someone holding him up. Hey! Just go back down already!"

Whether out of jealousy for Wayne's ability or envy of his closeness with the Soul Reaper squad members, this student grew angrier the more he thought about it and shouted out directly. His outburst stirred up quite a few others who had long been fed up with Wayne's reputation. They joined in together.

"Big... big brother Tsukishiro, I think I've brought you trouble." The sudden torrent of jeers made Nakai's heart lurch.

In truth, coming down to the field had been Nakai's idea. He had wanted to watch Wayne's match up close so he could learn from it, and so he had asked Wayne for permission to accompany him. His own strength wasn't enough to step into the ring. Wayne hadn't refused, just a simple nod of agreement. That was why Nakai was supporting him onto the field; otherwise, Wayne would have been up there in two Shunpo steps.

"It's fine. Pay them no mind." Wayne was completely indifferent to the voices from the viewing platform. As they walked, he spoke quietly to Nakai. "In the fight ahead, I'll try to slow things down. Just watch carefully."

"Mm!"

Unbothered, Wayne walked with an easy composure until he stood before a sixth-year upperclassman.

"First year, Tsukishiro Hinamori. Senior, pardon the offense." As his words fell, the sound of Wayne drawing his blade rang out.

"Hmph." The sixth-year opposite him gave a cold snort and likewise drew his Zanpakuto. By now, this upperclassman's Zanpakuto already bore its own distinct hilt, proof that it had awakened.

"Kid, I've heard of you." The sixth-year let out a low, contemptuous laugh. "First-year prodigy. Pity you're blind. I don't know where you found the gall to try this, but don't think you can use me as a stepping stone. Today I'll show you exactly what the sixth year looks like."

With that, he leveled his Zanpakuto before his chest. Every inch of his stance said he was about to release Shikai.

"Please grant me your instruction." Wayne paid the mockery no attention. He stepped back into a bow stance, lowered his center of gravity, and brought his blade up lengthwise into a thrusting posture, quietly waiting for the referee to call the start.

The last challenger was in position. The first-year challenge tournament was about to officially begin.

"Match—" At the head referee's signal, every competitor arrayed across the field launched their attack.

"Begin!"

"Spread your wings! Flame Spirit Fly — gwah!"

In Wayne's arena, the sixth-year upperclassman immediately began chanting his Zanpakuto's Shikai release incantation. He never finished it. Before the words were out, Wayne had already closed the distance with a single Shunpo and drove his blade into the man's chest.

PFFT!

The dull sound of the blade leaving flesh, blood spraying in its wake. Before the upperclassman could even fall, Wayne raised a hand. "4th Division medical team, please. Approximately half a blade's width from the heart. If you're quick, he can still be saved."

"First year, Tsukishiro Hinamori — victory!" The referee raised the flag and shouted at once. "4th Division, save him!"

As the 4th Division members stepped onto the field, Wayne walked calmly from the center to the edge and reached over to close Yū Nakai's jaw, which had nearly come unhinged.

"Well? Did you see it clearly?"

"I couldn't see a thing!" Nakai snapped back to himself and wailed.

The whole fight, start to finish, had lasted two or three seconds at most. Whatever happened to letting him study it properly? Whatever happened to slowing the pace down? It was over in a blink. What exactly was he supposed to learn from that?

It wasn't just Nakai who was dumbfounded, the entire audience was. They had only just begun to cheer, getting ready to root for someone or lay into someone with jeers, when a match below had already ended before a single shout could leave their mouths.

The students who had been watching Wayne most closely nearly choked.

"That's it? What just happened?"

"How would I know? I was watching the Shikai release in the next arena. Before anything even changed over there, the match next door was done. What on earth happened?"

Aside from the small number who had kept their eyes on Wayne the whole time, almost no one knew what had occurred. All they knew was that among the three-hundred-plus simultaneous bouts across the field, one had already ended.

"From the Shunpo launch to the blade thrust, I did pause," Wayne said, scratching his head. "It's a speed-strike method. Any slower and the opponent notices. Shunpo is the foundation. Once you can precisely control your landing point, that thrust won't go wide. And his incantation was on the long side — it would have been a waste not to strike straight away."

In fact, well before the match, Wayne had already obtained records on a large number of fifth- and sixth-year students from 7th Seat Mizusue. He had narrowed it down to roughly seventy or eighty of the favored contenders and memorized their details.

This upperclassman had fallen squarely within that group. The reason Wayne had chosen him was straightforward: he was the easiest to finish in a single strike. And the reason for that was even simpler, his incantation was far too long.

On the subject of incantation length, there was a saying from Wayne's previous-previous life: the longer the incantation, the more fearsome the Zanpakuto's ability. But in truth, it wasn't the Zanpakuto that was fearsome, it was the wielder. Whether it was the old man's Ryūjin Jakka, Shiro-chan's Hyōrinmaru, or Sōgyo no Kotowari and Katen Kyōkotsu, all carried extremely long incantations. But did that mean Zanpakuto with short incantations were truly weak?

Kyōka Suigetsu would like a word.

The incantation was, in essence, a bridge of communication between a Soul Reaper and their Zanpakuto, a dialogue to summon its release. If the two were truly of one heart and mind, releasing the Zanpakuto without chanting at all should pose no difficulty.

Zangetsu would like a word.

As the bond that tied them together, the incantation was the contractual phrase a Soul Reaper established with their Zanpakuto when calling on their partner. Calling out the Zanpakuto's name would unlock the Shikai with that blade's characteristic ability, that was common understanding.

Returning to the point: when it came to Shikai release times, the future Renji Abarai needed under two seconds for Zabimaru, and the same held for Ikkaku Madarame's Hōzukimaru. Shiro-chan's Hyōrinmaru, on the other hand, required about four seconds; Sōgyo no Kotowari ran to roughly six. If their Reiatsu were equal and their abilities set aside, the advantage in speed was obvious enough.

This upperclassman's Zanpakuto, Flame Spirit Fly Thief, took roughly five seconds from the first word of the incantation to the completion of Shikai. Five seconds was enough time for Wayne to run three stages of Shunpo. On a battlefield where everything could change in an instant, rushing in and cutting him down in one stroke was never in any doubt. One second was all it took.

➤ Next: Victories on All Fronts