The third day of the exchange tournament — and the final set of matches.
Half of today’s fighters were vice-captains. The rest, even if they weren’t vice-captains, were each elite among their divisions, with strength either close to, or not beneath, a vice-captain’s.
First Division Fifth Seat, Hokuzai Tsukasa.
Second Division Vice-Captain, Ōmaeda Marechiyo.
Third Division Third Seat, Togakushi Rikū.
Fourth Division Third Seat, Tachikawa Nobu.
Fifth Division Vice-Captain, Ichimaru Gin.
Sixth Division Third Seat, Saitō Hisaya.
Seventh Division Vice-Captain, Iba Tetsuzaemon.
Eighth Division Third Seat, Enjōji Tatsufusa.
Ninth Division Third Seat, Uchida Takashi.
Tenth Division Vice-Captain, Matsumoto Rangiku.
Eleventh Division Fifth Seat, Ayasegawa Yumichika.
Twelfth Division Vice-Captain, Kurotsuchi Nemu.
Thirteenth Division Third Seat, Kotsubaki Sentarō.
After the first two days, the total wins stood thus:
Tenth Division — 17 wins, first place.
Eleventh Division — 15 wins, second place.
Sixth Division, with 10 wins, was seventh.
Fourth Division, with only 4 wins, sat dead last.
The audience today was clearly larger than yesterday’s. Each division had brought more people to watch — after all, battles between vice-captains and high-ranking seated officers were rare.
Before the matches began, the captains’ row was filled with quiet conversation.
“If you don’t perform well out there, I’ll carve that pile of fat off you one slice at a time and feed it to the dogs.”
Second Division Captain Soi Fon was threatening her vice-captain.
Ōmaeda wore a look of pure misery. “Captain, everyone else here’s no pushover… and that guy from Sixth Division… Even if you push me to win, I just don’t have the strength!”
Soi Fon’s pretty face remained cold. “Second Division is in third place right now. If we drop because of you, see what happens.”
Ōmaeda shuddered. She wouldn’t literally carve him up, but “inhumane treatment” was well within possibility if he disappointed her.
His eyes flicked over the huge board bearing all the participants’ names, mentally sorting who he could beat and who would crush him. At least it looked like Fifth Division was a guaranteed loss — he could work around that.
Elsewhere, Kyōraku Shunsui was leaning toward Ichimaru Gin, seated beside Aizen, and asking, “How’s your bankai training going?”
Among the captains, Gin’s attainment of bankai was no secret. They all already viewed him as a future member of their own rank — the perfect fit to fill Third Division’s vacancy.
Gin’s eyes narrowed in that familiar smile. “Still workin’ on it.”
Bankai training was never quick. Even after reaching it, true proficiency took years of practice.
For now, the Gotei 13 was simply waiting for Gin to master it.
Kyōraku teased, “Honestly, isn’t you entering this tournament a little unfair?”
Gin’s smile didn’t falter. “Captain Aizen told me to join.”
Aizen smiled warmly. “As I said before — our division has a funding gap. If we can fill it here, all the better.”
While they chatted, Matsumoto Rangiku’s gaze kept flicking toward them, her calm eyes tinged with something more complicated.
I wonder… when we meet on the field, how will you face me?
Her hand rested on her Zanpakutō, laid across her knees, fingertips brushing the hilt.
Nobu sat quietly beside Unohana Retsu. Her face wore its usual graceful, composed smile, waiting for the matches to begin.
Head Captain Yamamoto leaned to whisper to Sasakibe Chōjirō.
Sasakibe approached Unohana. “Captain Unohana, there may be serious injuries during the bouts. Please be ready.”
She replied softly, “Don’t worry. Nobu is already well-prepared.”
Sasakibe glanced at Nobu, nodded, and added, “Also, if a fight grows too intense and life is at risk, other captains are to intervene immediately.”
He left to pass the same message to the rest.
Then Kotetsu Isane stepped into the center of the arena, and the noise faded.
Nobu leaned toward Unohana. “Captain, it’s about to start. Don’t you have a word of encouragement for me?”
Her eyes flicked toward him in amusement. “Such as?”
“Something like ‘Don’t disappoint me.’ I think I just heard Captain Soi Fon motivating her vice-captain like that.”
“At least give me reason to have expectations first,” she murmured.
Isane quickly finished reading the rules and asked the fighters if anyone would take the first defender’s position.
After two days, everyone knew — the first up was at a disadvantage, facing fresh opponents one after another.
Nobu stood, hand on the plain asauchi at his side, and murmured to Unohana,
“I wonder if, after today, you’ll expect a little more from me.”
The first defender: Fourth Division’s Tachikawa Nobu.
The captains remained composed, but many ordinary members exchanged surprised looks.
Nobu’s gaze swept the arena, catching familiar eyes — Hisagi Shūhei, Kanisawa, Kasumioji Kōgorō…
It settled on one man.
Sixth Division’s Third Seat — Saitō Hisaya.
A noble, from a vassal family to the Kuchiki clan. Rumor said the first-ever captain of Sixth Division a thousand years ago had also been a Saitō.
Under Nobu’s unblinking stare, Saitō frowned and leaned toward Kuchiki Byakuya. “Captain?”
Byakuya’s face was calm, offering no reply.
Nobu’s focus made the other vice-captains and high seats hesitate to step forward.
Finally, Saitō rose and walked into the arena.
“Sixth Division Third Seat, Saitō Hisaya. Please, let’s have a good match.”
He was a middle-aged man, not especially tall, with a cold, stern face. When Byakuya had moved from vice-captain to captain, Hisaya had failed to advance from Third Seat to vice-captain.
Nobu’s smile curved. “Fourth Division’s Tachikawa Nobu. Forgive me — my strikes might be a bit heavy. You won’t mind, will you?”
Hisaya’s face darkened — pure provocation.
Of course he knew Nobu’s name. Nobu had been famous even before graduation, and as a member of the Kuchiki family’s vassals, Hisaya knew the Kuchiki heir was currently Student Council President at the Academy.
At first, he’d thought a talent like Nobu’s worth cultivating ties with. Few earned Sixth Division’s approval.
After Isane stepped back, Hisaya drew his Zanpakutō and took his stance.
Nobu kept smiling, standing perfectly still, waiting for him to make the first move.
The arena hushed. Hisaya’s face was stone as he thrust out a hand: “Hadō #31: Shakkahō!”
The high-temperature blast, its center burning white-hot, detonated where Nobu stood. Flame and dust billowed, making many in the crowd flinch — they hadn’t seen him dodge.
Hisaya kept his eyes fixed on the smoke. He didn’t believe such a strike would land so easily. From within the haze, a bolt of white lightning shot toward him. Staying alert, he barely evaded the Byakurai.
The bolt veered sharply toward a killing-stone pillar before it could hit the stands — drawn in by Twelfth Division’s reishi-guidance devices that worked like magnets, protecting the audience.
In the arena, Hisaya’s scowl deepened. A vague shape emerged in the smoke — still standing where he’d been, still wearing that faintly mocking smile. Hisaya’s temper snapped, and he charged with both hands on his blade.
He plunged into the thinning haze, slashing—
Clang!
That metallic ring existed only in his mind — in reality, his swing met nothing. The blade’s wind cleared the last of the smoke, revealing Nobu less than a meter away.
Hisaya slashed again, but Nobu slipped aside with ease.
“Too slow,” Nobu said softly, just for him to hear.
Shing!
A cold flash seared across Hisaya’s vision. Pain like a drill tore through his arm; his strength vanished. His Zanpakutō clattered to the ground.
He stood frozen, staring down at his useless right arm and the weapon on the dirt.
One sword.
A sword he hadn’t even seen.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
…
“What’s wrong with Saitō… is it already decided?” Ōmaeda asked, concerned.
Soi Fon shot him a glare before saying, “That strike may have pierced the reishi joint in his arm.”
“You saw it?”
She didn’t answer.
When Hisaya remained motionless, Isane entered to pause the match. Examining his arm, her eyes widened.
The reishi joint was pierced — the arm temporarily useless. It could be healed, but it was troublesome.
And with one arm gone, continuing was pointless.
“Continue?” she asked him.
“…No. I lost.”
He stepped down.
Isane announced the result and explained the injury to the audience.
“Forgive me, Captain…”
Ignoring a Fourth Division member who approached, Hisaya went straight to Byakuya.
Byakuya’s gaze flicked to the still-bleeding arm. “Get treated.”
Piercing the reishi joint with one blow… too precise to be chance.
If the first day could be coincidence, today made it clear.
Does he have some grudge against Sixth Division?
Kyōraku and Ukitake exchanged silent looks — surprised by Nobu’s method, or perhaps his strength.
A Third Seat, yes, and not quite vice-captain level — yet he’d been cut down cleanly in one stroke. Nobu’s power might already surpass many vice-captains.
Still, Sixth Division’s ten straight wins yesterday meant they wouldn’t finish last, even if they lost all twelve today as they had on the first day.
Fourth Division’s Nobu could win six or more matches, but Third Division’s Togakushi Rikū would never take five.
As long as Sixth wasn’t last, the tournament could end “happily.”
…
In the arena, Nobu ignored the startled and wary looks. His eyes swept over the remaining fighters.
That was one down. Four to go.
If he moved four places up from Sixth Division’s current ranking and eliminated those fighters, everyone else — including Third Division — would pick up five extra wins.
And Sixth Division would end up at the bottom.
Seventh Division’s Iba Tetsuzaemon.
Twelfth Division’s Kurotsuchi Nemu.
Second Division’s Ōmaeda Marechiyo.
And from Fifth Division…
Ichimaru Gin.
Gin was easily the strongest of them.
Nobu could have chosen easier targets — Matsumoto Rangiku, Ayasegawa Yumichika — opponents he was more certain of beating.
But today’s matches weren’t just about the targets he chose.
There were also people here who had come for him.
His gaze locked on the silver-haired man. At that same moment, the always-smiling vice-captain of Fifth Division let that faintly false smile fade — and opened his eyes slightly.
—
This is a fan translation of 限制级死神 by 易安z. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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