"Shikai."
"It is the first stage of releasing the Zanpakutō — and also the first reflection of a shinigami's soul."
"Normally, just by the form of the shikai, we can already get an idea of the wielder's emotional nature."
"Aggressive and flamboyant people reveal their emotions easily; their Zanpakutō often manifest in extravagant forms, reflecting this desire for ostentation."
"Those with a calm and reserved mind, careful and cautious by nature, have Zanpakutō whose form barely changes when released — a manifestation of their self-control and restrained nature."
"Of course, there are exceptions, disguises, and particular cases, but they are rare enough not to be worth discussing."
Aizen observed Arima Shinya with a slight smile, and the brightness in his eyes seemed to deepen even more.
"And through this simple, direct, and pure form of observation…"
"I can already perceive, Shinya-kun…"
"Your Zanpakutō belongs to the second category."
Not a blade that flaunts uniqueness, but one that expresses maturity and restraint?
Listening to Aizen's explanation, Arima Shinya lowered his head and began observing his own Zanpakutō carefully.
It was long and slender, conveying a strange sense of transparency.
At the same time, compared to its sealed form, it was visibly longer, thinner, and sharper.
Not to the point of being "as thin as a cicada's wing," but as a weapon, it was almost excessively light.
Still, what drew the most attention was a long silver chain extending from the hilt.
It was made of small, tightly interlinked links.
Up close, one could see that each link carried tiny, distorted engravings…
They looked like pictographic characters.
Or perhaps indecipherable symbols, strokes with no apparent meaning.
But regardless of what they were, the level of detail was impressive — the chain wrapped around Arima Shinya's wrist like a mysterious ornament.
Although he had released his Zanpakutō before, he had never let anyone observe it so closely.
For that reason, he smiled somewhat embarrassedly.
— Master… I feel my Zanpakutō is already a bit flashy.
Can this still be considered "discreet"?
Perceiving the young man's thoughts, Aizen replied with a serene smile:
"Shinya-kun, restraint is not the same as simplicity. A touch of refinement and subtle elegance are also forms of expressing sobriety."
Wow… that sounded really professional.
Aizen raised his right hand, touched his chin, and for the first time assumed a truly thoughtful expression.
"But returning to the point…"
"Although I have seen many shikai forms over time…"
"One like yours is truly rare. It's as if it were…"
Right.
It was easy to understand with a little reflection.
The form of the blade… resembled something fragile, like glass or crystal.
"An image made to be broken — to be destroyed."
Fragile, beautiful, and wrapped in an illusory sense of unreality.
It was his master's judgment — but in Arima Shinya's mind, something didn't add up.
After all, his blade had already blocked a frontal strike from Kiganjō, the former Kenpachi.
If it were truly that weak, it would have shattered instantly.
Upon hearing the young man's explanation, Aizen slightly furrowed his brows, pondering the reason behind it.
"I see… a bit complex, but not a bad thing. Yes, it's fine to keep it like this for now."
Speaking in an enigmatic tone, Aizen nodded and then said:
"Faced with something so exquisite, it would be impolite to show nothing in return. But forgive me, Shinya-kun — the ability of my Zanpakutō is a bit special. I can only explain it in words later."
Others might not understand what he meant, but Arima Shinya did.
Aizen's Zanpakutō's strength was not only in its ability but in the difference in information it created — a total illusion power, whose effectiveness depended on surprise.
It was a trump card, and he did not want to expose it unnecessarily.
"Come now, Shinya-kun. Attack me. I want to see what you're capable of now."
Faced with such words, there was no room for hesitation.
Arima adjusted his stance, raised the sword to eye level, spun his body, and began controlling his breathing…
Until finally, he fully assumed his combat position.
The spiritual pressure began to swirl, condensing, flowing into the Zanpakutō in his hands.
The world was once again tinged in black and white.
In this space where all color disappeared —
it was the absolute domain of Arima Shinya.
The Möbius ring began to intertwine.
A complex and precise labyrinth appeared; at the crossroads, four versions of Arima moved in different directions, exploring frantically.
Countless bluish silhouettes appeared in the air — and then dissipated.
In an instant, he saw many "copies of himself" being quickly defeated.
One was kicked by Aizen and lost consciousness; another clutched his temple, dizzy and staggering…
Nothing lethal, but enough to remove him from combat.
The master is taking this seriously now?
Reflecting for a brief moment, Arima "saw" — in the reversed flow of time — the path by which he could approach and land a strike.
Here.
The fragments of broken interlocks joined; time resumed its flow.
In the real, colorful, vibrant world, Arima advanced silently, eyes half-closed.
The blade cut the air in a horizontal strike.
Aizen dodged with a sidestep — exactly as predicted. It was the perfect moment to counterattack, but Arima, instead, retreated and ducked quickly.
In the next instant —
From within Aizen's wide sleeves, sparks accumulated and exploded in light!
Hadō No. 63 — Raikōhō (Thunder Roar Cannon)!
Even without chanting the incantation, the glow was devastating.
Arima Shinya's body was swallowed by the light —
But in the blink of an eye, his silhouette reappeared behind Aizen, silently holding the blade and cutting his back.
"…"
Silence.
Aizen seemed unable to react in time, moving with minimal delay.
The strike hit — the fabric of his black uniform tore, and blood gushed.
A hit.
But it did not stop him from acting.
Without showing pain, Aizen took a wide step, moving sideways, closing the distance between them in an instant.
In this tight space, there was no way to dodge.
Seeing the attack coming, Arima raised his left arm to block —
BAM!
The impact did not sound like flesh and bone; his body was thrown away.
Everything until that moment — was within expectations.
The confrontation seemed intense, but in reality, it had lasted only a blink of an eye.
On the sidelines, Tōsen Kaname frowned. Even observing from outside, he seemed unable to fully comprehend what had happened.
It was… strange.
Aizen stepped back half a pace.
He looked at Arima Shinya, kneeling on the ground, holding his left arm with a grimace of pain.
Then Aizen calmly touched his own back with his right hand.
It returned covered in blood.
The heat, the viscosity, the slight sting — the real sensation made him smile, satisfied.
"I see… I see now. So this is the kind of ability you have. Interesting. As expected of my student — my gaze did not deceive me."
But then, his eyes shone with an indecipherable glint.
"However… this kind of power also has a very clear weakness, Shinya-kun."
(End of Chapter)
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