Chapter 125: Shunkō (Prototype)

Haruto and Shihōin Chihiro faced off at the Shihōin family’s training ground, a place Haruto knew like home from his days living there. They squared up, never having sparred formally despite their long friendship.

“Here I come!” Chihiro shouted, darting forward on her toes, fists like cannonballs.

Haruto, sword sheathed, met her Hakuda with bare hands. The Soul King’s flesh had boosted his Reiatsu, enhancing speed, strength, and reflexes. Trained in Hakuda by Yamamoto, he parried her warm-up blows easily.

“This all you got?” Haruto taunted. “Get serious, or I’m out.”

“Impatient kid!” Chihiro’s speed surged, her punches and kicks now blade-sharp, carrying immense force. Even Haruto felt pressure, his Hakuda less refined than hers.

He blocked like a steel wall, unshaken. “Second Division Captain, not bad!” he grinned, scanning for flaws. Chihiro’s speed left fleeting openings. Haruto, no slouch post-flesh boost, caught one, countering like a phoenix erupting. His fist’s wind pressure choked the air.

Chihiro froze briefly, stunned. Haruto sensed a trick, pivoting to block a steel-hard kick with both arms, sliding back two steps. “Utsusemi!” he gasped, spotting her afterimage—a shed shihakushō.

“The real fight starts now!” Chihiro crouched like a leopard, launching a punch.

Haruto caught it, smirking. “That’s it?”

A white flash erupted from her fist, Kidō-infused Hakuda amplifying its force. The blast hurled Haruto ten meters, his feet carving trenches in the ground.

“Shunkō—a prototype,” Chihiro said smugly.

Haruto stared at his steaming palm. Kidō and Hakuda combined? Like Yoruichi’s future Shunkō, it was raw, needing chants and prep, unlike later mastery. The Shihōin’s Hakuda relied on speed, weak against rule-based powers like Yhwach’s Almighty. Yoruichi’s Zanpakutō? Still a mystery—cat form rumors aside.

Why didn’t I think of this? Haruto, a Kidō master who instant-cast Goryūtenmetsu, had decent Hakuda. Combining them could forge his own Shunkō. He condensed Kidō on his arm, holding it until impact.

“Nice! Let’s keep going!” Haruto beckoned, grinning. Chihiro, here to refine her move, obliged.

Her next punch met Haruto’s. “Ora!” His Kidō-charged fist exploded like a bomb, sending Chihiro crashing through a dozen walls. She rose, disheveled, coughing. “Trying to kill me?”

“How’d you learn my move so fast?” she griped. Haruto had mastered Utsusemi after one demo; now he’d outdone her Shunkō.

“If my Kidō’s second in Seireitei, no one’s first,” Haruto boasted. “Want lessons?”

Chihiro rolled her eyes. “This brat—praise him, and he’s insufferable. Dinner’s on me. Spill how you threw that punch!”