Bleach: The Template System Chose Me, The Forgotten Kuchiki

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A meteorite a full thousand meters across… its power was beyond anything Shiraha had seen firsthand.

Suspended hundreds of meters in the air, she murmured to herself, Observation Haki tracking every ripple of destruction below.

Naruki City was gone.

The dozen meteorites over a hundred meters wide, followed by the one-kilometer titan, had erased it from the map. The streets, buildings, and people—everything—were reduced to an endless desert.

As for Grimmjow, the Espada himself, there wasn't even ash left. His existence had scattered into spirit particles.

"But the greater the power, the greater the cost." Shiraha exhaled, a faint smile tugging her lips as she slid her zanpakutō back into its sheath.

Her reserves had plummeted—less than half of her spiritual and physical strength remained. Pulling meteors from tens of thousands of kilometers away was devastating, but the toll was just as merciless. The final strike, drawing down a meteorite a kilometer in diameter, had drained a full tenth of her stamina. Even at her peak, she could have managed perhaps ten such calls before collapse.

"Miss Yoruichi. Mr. Urahara. You can come out now."

She spoke into the air beside her, not bothering to turn.

Two black-clad figures shimmered into view—Urahara Kisuke and Shihōin Yoruichi, emerging from the shadows they'd been lurking in. When Shiraha had raced from Karakura Town toward Naruki, Observation Haki had already caught their signatures trailing her. During her gravity manipulations, she had simply adjusted the field to leave them untouched.

"Ah, Yoruichi-chan, I told you Shiraha had spotted us long ago, but you wouldn't believe me." Kisuke's voice was light, almost playful, though his eyes couldn't hide the lingering horror as they swept over the wasteland.

He'd seen Shiraha summon a meteorite days ago in Karakura—but that had been nothing compared to this.

"Stop talking nonsense, Urahara."

Yoruichi cuffed him on the head, though her own eyes carried that same flicker of awe. "Little Shiraha, your Shikai isn't just destructive—it's bizarre in ways that are hard to grasp. Hard to believe this is only a Shikai."

Indeed, Shiraha's zanpakutō might not match the most lethal in pure killing edge, but in range and devastation, there was no rival. Even Yamamoto Genryūsai's Ryūjin Jakka, hailed as the strongest, could not in its Shikai state match the sheer annihilation Shiraha had unleashed.

And from the vantage where Yoruichi and Urahara had watched, it had been clear—Grimmjow hadn't been able to touch her. Cero, Sonído, any attack at all—none reached. He'd been nothing more than a target, steadily bled of stamina until the end. Even if Yoruichi herself had faced her instead of Grimmjow, landing a blow would have been nearly impossible.

"Miss Yoruichi, after Shikai, any zanpakutō's power grows. Mine is just… slightly stronger than most." Shiraha's smile was calm.

A little stronger? Yoruichi nearly barked a laugh. Try a billion times stronger.

"Shiraha, how did you even detect us? We made sure not a trace of reiatsu leaked. With these cloaks, even standing behind a captain, we'd remain unnoticed." Kisuke's curiosity sharpened, pride in his own inventions making him press the question.

"Mr. Urahara, that's… my own ability. I'm afraid I can't say more." Shiraha's tone was apologetic, but her eyes gave nothing away. Observation Haki rendered their cloaks meaningless; she could see them clearly without the faintest wisp of spiritual pressure.

"Still," she added with a teasing glint, "Yoruichi-san is even more beautiful in her human form."

The compliment landed squarely—Yoruichi's tall, lean curves, flawless lines, and striking features made the words hard to dismiss.

"Ahem… but Shiraha, you're blind. How exactly are you seeing her face?" Kisuke coughed lightly, unsettled. For one born without sight, sensing reiatsu and fighting like this was already extraordinary. But this?

"That's just my reiatsu's peculiarity," Shiraha lied easily. "I can see both of you through it. Especially you, Mr. Urahara—you're very distinctive."

If she didn't mention Observation Haki, Kisuke could only ascribe it to some unique sensory facet of her reiatsu.

"I see… so it was your reiatsu that found us just now." Kisuke's tone carried conviction now.

Shiraha said nothing, letting the assumption stand.

"But if the current Twelfth Division Captain, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, learned about your reiatsu… I imagine he'd be very eager to study you." Kisuke's voice was half-joking, but his eyes were assessing. In truth, even he was deeply curious, tempted to examine this 'speciality' more closely—but Shiraha's rapport with them stayed his tongue.

"Don't think I don't know what you're plotting." Yoruichi smacked him again. "If you want to experiment on Shiraha, forget it."

"I was just saying…" Kisuke rubbed the back of his head.

Then, a shimmer split the sky.

A Senkaimon opened.

"Yoruichi-chan, someone's coming. Let's go." Kisuke didn't wait—both he and Yoruichi vanished instantly.

"Soul Society finally decided to show up?" Shiraha's voice held dry amusement. The fight was over, the city gone, Grimmjow erased—and now they arrived. Without her second template's activation, she doubted she could have beaten the Sexta Espada at all. If the Gotei 13 had come earlier, they'd have found only her corpse.

The gate widened, spilling white light, and a figure stepped through—pink feathered haori, broad-brimmed straw hat tipped low, short beard framing a relaxed mouth now frozen open.

Kyoraku Shunsui.

His gaze swept the wasteland, widening, disbelieving.

"…No. Did I come to the wrong place? Where's Naruki City? Don't tell me the Senkaimon opened to the wrong location."

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