Bleach: Time Based Shinigami Chapter 13 13: The Power of Time(2)

"Cough cough!!"

Kyōraku Shunsui nearly choked on his tea.

Staring in disbelief, he asked again, almost in a daze:

"…Say that one more ti.

Which Division?!"

Shimo calmly repeated:

"The Fourth Division."

The conviction in his voice was sothing Shunsui had never seen before.

Studying him closely and realizing this wasn't so kind of joke, Kyōraku slowly set his teacup down and tapped his fingers on the table, brows slightly furrowed.

After a brief pause, he asked:

"…Can you tell why?"

Shimo responded without hesitation:

"Because I'm deeply interested in Kaidō(Healing Arts)."

"Besides, combat isn't really my thing. And more importantly, since you have no plans to get married or have children, soone has to think about carrying on the Kyōraku family line."

"Going to the battlefield only increases the risk of death."

Clearly, Shimo was very skilled at shifting topics. In just a few words, he'd redirected the conversation back to Shunsui.

Hearing those reasons, Shunsui froze for a mont—then burst out laughing.

"Well, since you've already made up your mind, I won't try to interfere."

"Study hard at the Shin'o Academy. Cherish your ti there."

"The Seireitei… is far more complicated than you imagine."

With that, Shunsui stood and took his leave.

Shimo had always trusted this elder of his.

Yet the last words Shunsui spoke still lingered in his mind.

This seemingly lazy, carefree Captain—known for his indulgent ways—was, in truth, one of the most perceptive people in the entire Gotei 13. Clearly, he'd sensed sothing.

"…Should I start keeping a lower profile now?"

Deep in thought, Shimo reviewed all that he'd done recently.

But monts later, he gave a wry smile:

"I've already left an impression on the Captains. What good would it do to hold back now?"

Right now, the Seireitei was like a murky swamp.

One misstep, and you could be dragged under.

The only solution—was to gain the strength to rise above that swamp.

With that clarity, Shimo cald his thoughts and sat cross-legged, posture straight.

He placed his Asauchi flat across his knees, one hand resting on the poml, the other gently caressing the blade.

Closing his eyes, he focused his mind.

His intense concentration allowed him to re-enter the ditative state known as Zanpakutō Communion.

That familiar realm returned.

The world of ticking clocks.

The path of frozen ti.

Once more, they appeared before him.

"Wasn't this place destroyed?"

"…Does it reconstruct itself every ti I enter?"

The questions swirled in his mind, but in this space—where he was utterly alone—there were no answers.

Everything could only be unraveled through his own exploration.

But this ti, he entered the Zanpakutō world with far more confidence.

Now that he possessed Captain-class spiritual pressure, he was several tis stronger than before.

"I hope this ti, I can finally see what's on that throne."

With renewed determination, Shimo unleashed his spiritual pressure along the path of ti.

Centered on him, an overwhelming surge of energy exploded outward—waves of spiritual pressure shattered countless clocks in an instant.

The imnse spiritual power surged like a rising tide, crashing through this entire realm.

Eyes steady, Shimo watched the transformation unfold.

Endless darkness reappeared before him.

The shattered clocks dissolved into the void without a trace.

Ahead, the darkness rippled like the surface of a wind-stirred lake.

From within it, a throne rose—erging from the shadows.

Distorted and broken tipieces clustered around it like twisted offerings.

But then ca the disappointnt.

The throne was empty.

"…Well, that raises the next question."

He looked around, brows furrowing.

"Where the hell is my Zanpakutō spirit?"

At this point, Shimo seriously began to suspect that he'd stumbled into a fake Zanpakutō space.

A world of false clocks.

A brittle road of ti.

Even a re flare of his spiritual pressure could obliterate it.

And then—just black void. An empty throne.

"No… the answer must lie on that throne."

Shimo took a step forward.

Just as his foot moved into the void—the ti path reford beneath him.

But unlike before, it was no longer flat.

Instead, layers upon layers of stairs made from clock fragnts rose in an ascending spiral.

As he watched in astonishnt, the throne began to rise as well—floating ever higher into the unreachable sky.

"…Is that what this is?"

"Do I have to climb up to it?"

He stepped onto the first stair.

The mont his foot touched it, an unbearable pressure slamd down on him!

Gritting his teeth, Shimo summoned his spiritual pressure to resist, relieving so of the burden.

It felt like a mountain had fallen on him—even lifting a single finger was excruciating.

Relying solely on sheer willpower, he managed to reach the first step.

But the mont he reached for the second—

—even greater pressure crushed down!

In the next instant, his vision blurred—

—and he was forcibly ejected from the Zanpakutō realm.

"Huff… huff…"

Awake again, Shimo gasped for breath, lungs straining.

That overwhelming pressure had placed an unimaginable burden on him.

His entire body was drenched in sweat—his freshly changed Academy uniform soaked through.

But…

He didn't leave empty-handed.

With great effort, he raised a trembling finger.

A faint, shimring power danced around it.

"The power of ti…"

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

His eyes glead with radiant resolve.