The surge of force exploded outward, transforming into a sharp, slicing hurricane, like a bomb detonating in an instant.
Even Kisaragi Akira's vision darkened for a moment, his ears ringing from the sheer intensity.
Without the use of spiritual pressure, Yoruichi Shihouin's combination of raw power and flawless technique alone was enough to utterly dominate anyone at her level.
A chill ran through Akira's chest. Instinctively, he twisted his body, trying to evade the deadly strike.
No one understood Yoruichi's heavy punch better than he did. One solid hit, and the consequences could range from severe injury to certain death.
This woman was insane!
Her slender fist grazed the side of his face, the shockwave erupting like a violent hurricane, tossing him as if he were nothing more than a rag doll.
At that instant, Akira felt as if he were being dragged through deep undercurrents beneath the ocean, his body stretching and twisting in impossible directions.
It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced.
Death seemed to lurk in every direction.
The hurricane slammed into the hard classroom floor, detonating with a deafening boom. Jagged cracks spread across the surface like gaping maws, exuding danger and malice.
Cold sweat slid down the bridge of his nose as every nerve in his body strained taut.
"Not bad at all!" Yoruichi praised, her voice light yet commanding. "You're the first freshman to dodge my punch."
"Since you have such talent, let's raise the difficulty a bit. It'll be a good lesson for the other students as well."
"Hand-to-hand combat is the last line of defense for a Shinigami. Every student must graduate with a perfect score."
"Consider this… my personal tutoring session for all of you."
As the sprawled students turned their attention toward the two of them, Yoruichi moved again.
This time, they were shocked—her movements were fast enough that, with effort, they could actually follow her motions.
It was barely understandable, but if they forced themselves to memorize it, they could grasp the essence of her hand-to-hand techniques.
Kisaragi Akira, however, stood frozen, eyes blank, like a wooden doll planted firmly in place.
Yoruichi shook her head in mild disappointment. Talents like this were rare. Otherwise, each year wouldn't produce so few captain-level elites.
This kid was rude—but a small lesson would suffice.
With that thought, she slightly restrained her force, slowing her speed just a touch.
But in Akira's world, the moment Yoruichi launched her attack, he deconstructed her form into dozens of segments—arms, legs, torso, waist, even the subtle tremors of her stance.
For that instant, Akira absorbed every detail of the technique, like a dry sponge greedily soaking up water.
In that split second, he discerned every strength, weakness, and nuance, digesting it and making it his own.
Divine Heart!
Only when he fully grasped the rhythm of Yoruichi's strike did he comprehend the terrifying potential of his exclusive "Divine Heart" ability. While it didn't directly create raw power, it offered infinite potential.
With this ability, he could reach the very pinnacle of technique itself.
A brilliant light flickered in Akira's eyes, and his aura shifted dramatically, a silent storm of raw presence.
Aizen, standing to the side, watched his friend with keen interest, a subtle smile betraying the excitement stirring in his heart.
Yoruichi noticed the change too, but having already committed, she could no longer hold back. Her fists surged forward like battering rams, aiming at the seemingly defenseless boy.
Rock-paper-scissors.
Smack!
In a crisp, resounding sound, Akira's palm met Yoruichi's fist. Light, gentle, almost playful, like a teasing gesture between lovers.
Yet the instant they connected, a deafening roar of energy erupted, the shockwaves rippling in every direction.
No major damage occurred, but the students who had endured Yoruichi's previous onslaught were left slack-jawed, unable to believe their eyes.
She… she blocked it?!
No. How is he even doing that?!
A torrent of disbelief and shock washed over the students. They couldn't fathom that a seemingly unknown Shinto shrine's child could stand against a member of the illustrious Shihouin family.
Over time, classmates had come to understand Kisaragi Akira's background. Compared to the nobility-dominated Seireitei, even with his shrine master title, Akira was a commoner from Rukongai. Yet here he was, holding his own—briefly—against one of the greatest elites.
"He… blocked it."
Yoruichi's eyes widened as she looked down at the tall boy in front of her, an expression of genuine surprise on her delicate, sharp-featured face.
"Unexpected," she whispered. "Could it be… a genius in hand-to-hand combat?"
Her words reached Akira's ears, but his expression remained calm, his mind quietly twisted by the intensity. The disparity in raw strength was impossible to ignore.
Even catching a fist in his palm nearly shattered his hand. If not for his exceptional conditioning, he would have screamed in pain.
Hold it together… I cannot let my lifetime reputation end here!
Yoruichi, sensing his tension, grinned, flipping her wrist and launching another hand-to-hand technique—this time, a brutal close-quarters grab.
Her sheer force pinned his arms, severely restricting his movements. Akira wisely released her right hand, buying himself a brief opening.
Relentless, Yoruichi unleashed an even more refined series of techniques, her movements accelerating like a monstrous hurricane attempting to engulf him completely.
Yet despite the overwhelming pressure, Akira, like a tiny boat on a vast ocean, dodged, parried, and survived each near-death moment with uncanny precision.
Even under her immense assault, he was learning. Each slowed, deliberate motion revealed the essence of her technique, which he absorbed through Divine Heart.
Meanwhile, Kishinobu Maeda finally noticed something odd.
Wait! How did they… end up grappling with each other?!
Yoruichi's legs were scissoring around Akira's neck, her left hand poised and ready, while his own legs clamped around her waist.
Despite the precarious position, Akira actually had a slight positional advantage.
He understood that Yoruichi, in her pride, had restrained her spiritual pressure, relying purely on technique—giving him a rare opening.
"If it were a life-or-death fight, I'd be dust by now."
"Akira's locked Yoruichi!"
"No! I think it's the other way around!"
The heated debate from the onlooking students jolted Kishinobu. When he looked again, the two were in a dangerously intimate tangle.
Aizen's gaze blazed with interest.
Interesting… another hidden genius like myself?