Bleach: The Shinigami’s Zanpakutō That Unleashed Bankai On Its Own

Hearing the announcement, Moyu was already certain.

This was the same soul burial practice—the one that went terribly wrong.

The incident nearly ended in complete annihilation and sent shockwaves through all of Seireitei.

Even the Shinigami responsible for scouting the designated burial zone had been dispatched to a barren, dead-spirited plain.

His face grew serious, and Rukia quickly noticed the shift in his mood.

"Brother Moyu, what's wrong?" she asked with concern. "Is there something wrong with this soul burial practice?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Moyu smiled and rubbed her head gently.

"I was just thinking through some things related to the practice."

"Oh, right," he added casually. "You mentioned earlier—the Shinigami who came to announce the soul burial training…"

Before he could finish, Rukia's face fell slightly.

"That female Shinigami with the giant X disease," she muttered. "She introduced herself as the Vice-Captain of the Tenth Division—Matsumoto Rangiku…"

Well, that explains it.

There was probably no one else Rukia would describe in such blunt terms.

But that was a minor detail. There were far more pressing concerns.

The real issue was how he was going to get through this soul burial internship.

He couldn't exactly swing his Zanpakutō from one end of the plain to the other without restraint.

That would draw too much attention.

And besides… that would be exhausting. His eyes would be sore by the end of it.

"It seems I need to come up with a few contingency plans," Moyu muttered, sinking into deep thought.

---

Nightfall.

A crescent moon hung low over the treetops, half-veiled by dark clouds like a shy maiden.

A shadow slipped quietly out from the walls of the Spiritual Arts Academy, cloaked in darkness.

The stationed Shinigami guards didn't even blink.

After all, this was Seireitei—a society where status dictated action.

And Moyu had status.

---

Noble Street.

Shihouin Clan Estate.

Moyu made his way with ease to the Shihouin residence—not far from the Kuchiki household.

"Yushiro, I need your help!"

Thanks to his noble privileges, he entered without issue and soon stood before his friend.

The Twentieth Third Generation Head of the Shihouin family—Shihouin Yushiro.

"Huh?"

Yushiro blinked, confused at the late-night visit. "Moyu? Why'd you sneak out of the Academy again?"

Yushiro was a bit temperamental, yet he always came off soft-spoken, even in surprise.

Boom!

Moyu slammed the nearby table with his palm.

"In a few days, I'm being sent on a soul burial practice."

"You know about soul burials, don't you?"

Hearing this, Yushiro's face turned serious.

"You're leaving Soul Society?"

"I get it now."

Compared to his sister's wild, carefree nature, Yushiro had always been the more level-headed of the two.

Sometimes, Moyu couldn't help but wonder if the siblings were switched at birth.

That black cat was truly absurd in more ways than one.

Without delay, Yushiro ran out of the room.

Moments later, he returned—carrying an enormous pile of equipment.

Boom!

He dumped it all in front of Moyu with a grin.

"Over ninety percent of the clan's artifacts are here," Yushiro said proudly. "Pick whatever you want!"

Against his dusky skin, Yushiro's teeth shone bright as he beamed.

Moyu, never one for formalities among true friends, dove in without hesitation.

"Brother!"

"I'll help track down Yoruichi's whereabouts for you, no question."

Then he plunged headfirst into the mound of gear.

The Shihouin family, one of the Soul Society's Four Noble Houses, was renowned as Heaven's Armed Guard.

Their vast collection of mystical artifacts was second to none.

And for this soul burial practice, these tools would be Moyu's lifeline.

With them, he could neutralize special threats and hidden dangers without revealing his true power.

"Much appreciated, Yushiro."

The Shihouin heir scratched his head and smiled sheepishly, fully convinced by Moyu's reasoning.

Time was short, and Moyu didn't waste any of it explaining further.

The Academy wouldn't bother reprimanding him for sneaking out.

Still, he couldn't afford to miss tomorrow's lesson.

He was, after all, an exceptionally studious young man.

With Yushiro's help, Moyu sorted through and equipped himself with an array of tools, arming himself to the teeth.

---

Three days later.

Spiritual Arts Academy—Training Ground No. 1.

Rukia stared in disbelief at the figure standing beside her.

Moyu was loaded down with gear, a towering bundle strapped to his back, the weight of it bouncing comically with every step.

"Brother Moyu, this is just a basic soul burial practice," she said, bewildered. "Did you have to bring your entire room with you?!"

Moyu pursed his lips, refusing to acknowledge the stares from every corner of the training field.

He reached out and tousled Rukia's hair until it was a complete mess.

"You don't know anything."

"This is called... being prepared."