Bleach: Stirring Up a Storm

Under the crescent moon, the night sky gradually pulled back like a curtain, but for Tōsen Kaname and Ichimaru Gin, who had just stepped out, Karakura Town before them was the true stage.

"How many Fracción did Grimmjow bring with him?"

"All of them. Five in total." Tōsen paused, and when he spoke again, his tone carried a hint of displeasure. "It seems they have all been killed."

"Well, Grimmjow is still alive and kicking, so it wasn’t a wasted trip after all," Gin said with a smile, seemingly uncaring about the deaths of a few Fracción.

Tōsen snorted coldly and suddenly vanished from his spot. He didn’t think there was anything to celebrate, nor did he agree that this wasn’t a wasted trip. This was never part of Aizen-sama’s plan; they had only come here because Grimmjow had caused trouble for no reason!

*Angry?* Gin didn’t think Tōsen was angry at him, nor did he believe those five Fracción held much weight in Tōsen’s heart.

It was likely Grimmjow’s blatant disregard for orders and unauthorized actions that had displeased Tōsen. But was this order actually given by Aizen? Or had Tōsen decided it on Aizen’s behalf?

"He’s getting stricter and stricter. How terrifying."

However, being strict with others made it easy to loosen one’s own self-restraint. Without a Sword of Damocles hanging overhead, danger was actually more likely to strike.

Karakura Town wasn’t a place where one could come and go as they pleased. A wasted trip wouldn’t actually be a bad thing.

Danger. On the other side, Grimmjow had already experienced this word firsthand. At this moment, he looked somewhat battered, his arms crossed defensively in front of him, an ugly gash slanting from his wrist all the way across his upper body.

*What was that just now?*

The dull ache in his chest told Grimmjow that what had just happened was no illusion. Ichigo, who hadn’t caused him any trouble from the very beginning, had wounded him for the first time.

"Why wasn’t this move of yours mentioned in Ulquiorra’s report, Shinigami..."

Before he could finish, Ichigo unleashed another mid-air slash. Reiryoku spilled from Tensa Zangetsu like ink, and a black crescent moon reached Grimmjow in the blink of an eye.

It was this exact move just a moment ago. The same black Reiatsu, darker than the night itself—frantic, murderous, and powerful—had caused Grimmjow to suffer a minor loss due to a moment of carelessness.

This time, Grimmjow didn’t dare to be careless. He drew the Zanpakutō at his waist with a reverse grip in his left hand and slashed at the bizarre black crescent, cleaving it in two.

*It really did get a bit stronger,* Grimmjow thought to himself. Aside from its frantic and murderous aura, this bizarre black Reiryoku had another characteristic: it was unstable.

This was likely the potential Ulquiorra had spoken of—a potential not inferior to their own. Although there was still a clear gap between them at present, potential inherently represented future possibilities. In this regard, Grimmjow acknowledged that Ichigo possessed that possibility.

However, instability didn’t just mean room for growth; conversely, it could also mean imperfect control over one’s power, or even a complete inability to control it.

Switching his blade to his right hand, Grimmjow looked down at Ichigo, who was clutching his forehead, and finally understood another thing Ulquiorra had said: *"But he has also become unstable because of that immense power. Even if left alone, he might destroy himself or even become one of our subordinates."*

Combined with what he was seeing now, Ulquiorra’s deduction wasn’t unreasonable. Grimmjow could also tell that this power was placing an immense burden on Ichigo.

However, while he or Ulquiorra could draw the conclusion of self-destruction, Ichigo, as the one wielding it, shouldn’t be considering that—or rather, he shouldn’t *only* be considering that.

"Pretty interesting, Shinigami. Use it a few more times and I might not be able to block it. Come on, try it!" Grimmjow provoked. If there was a power beyond one’s control that even threatened oneself, the wielder needed to think about how to solve the problem, rather than just fearing it.

Forcing Ichigo’s hand—that was what Grimmjow intended to do now. *Bring out the courage you showed when you first faced me and control it. You have no choice but to control it, otherwise I will definitely kill you!*

*I might not be able to block it if you use it a few more times? What a joke.*

Ichigo panted heavily. The black Getsuga Tenshō was the technique of that dangerous guy inside him. Using it was equivalent to sending the other a signal—*Come out. Come out and fight for me.*

*I can use it at most one more time?* No. Ichigo gripped his face tightly to keep his mind clear. The sclera of his left eye had already turned almost entirely black, and arrogant laughter echoed intermittently in his ears. He couldn’t use it even one more time.

"I... I don’t need a move like this to deal with you."

Grimmjow frowned. Confidence? No. Although Ichigo’s words sounded arrogant, all Grimmjow heard was evasion and deception—self-deception.

That person who had disgusted him just from a visual recording was back.

"Then I’d like to see what other moves you have."

Just as Grimmjow was about to attack, a hand quietly patted his shoulder from behind. His expression changed drastically as he turned his head, only to be met with Tōsen’s stern face.

"Put your blade away, Grimmjow."

"Tōsen! Why are you here?" Grimmjow regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. The only ones who knew his whereabouts were Abraham and Nnoitra. To tacitly allow him to leave and then go back on his word like this—no matter how he thought about it, it could only be Abraham.

"You ask why? Do you still not understand?" Tōsen said, his tone displeased. "Attacking the World of the Living without authorization, privately mobilizing five Arrancar, and suffering a miserable defeat—all of these actions violate orders!"

Grimmjow couldn’t help but grit his teeth. Tōsen was always harping on about orders and rules—a completely rigid bastard.

"You haven’t even realized that you’ve placed yourself in peril. Aizen-sama did not grant you power just so you could throw your lives away in pointless places!"

"Peril? Are you talking about that clogs-and-hat guy or the woman in black? Or perhaps, that piece of trash?" Grimmjow pointed at Ichigo on the ground, seemingly amused. "You’re being far too cautious, Tōsen."

"Truly foolish." Tōsen walked past Grimmjow, standing in the air above Ichigo and staring straight ahead. "Come out." Unfortunately, no one—including Ichigo—responded to his words.

"Are you still not going to show yourself?"

As soon as the words fell, Tōsen slashed out with lightning speed. A fierce Reiatsu Slash swept over Ichigo’s head, flying straight toward the distant houses behind him.

Ichigo turned his head. In the distance, a two-story house with a red roof was instantly cleaved in two, its roof slowly sliding down along the impossibly smooth cut.

A faint gleam flashed by the side, and a familiar male voice came from above. "To actually notice my presence in an environment with such chaotic Reiatsu... At first, I thought you were just trying to bluff me into coming out."

Looking up, it was as if a second crescent moon had appeared in the night sky, resting on a man’s shoulder.

"Outstanding Reiatsu perception. Should I praise you like that, Tōsen?"

"It is simply that your concealment methods are far too clumsy," Tōsen replied, his brow furrowing heavily.

The worst-case scenario that Aizen-sama had envisioned had come to pass.

"Shihouin Kōe."

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