Bleach: The Invincible Slacker from Rukongai

Ise Nanao was the first to recognize the figure standing against the incoming Cero barrage. Her eyes widened in panic, and she shouted desperately, "Teacher Uehara! It's dangerous! Get out of the way!"

Her voice was filled with urgency, but her words were swallowed by the roaring energy of the approaching blasts.

Madarame Ikkaku snapped his head up, eyes narrowing as he recognized the lone figure standing firm before the oncoming wave of destruction. "Uehara… Uehara Shiroha!" His breath hitched as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

Memories of their past encounter resurfaced, of the bone-chilling sensation that had nearly frozen his very soul.

"What the hell is that guy thinking!?" he muttered, his throat suddenly dry.

"Is he trying to take on fifty Hollows alone?" Ayasegawa Yumichika asked, his usually composed voice uncharacteristically shaken. He frowned and shook his head. "No… Even with a permanent-release Zanpakutō, there's no way he can handle so many at once. I get it now—he's sacrificing himself to give us a chance to break through."

The logic was sound.

The only possible reason for such reckless action… was a selfless one.

"I want to go with him!" Nanao cried, tears streaming down her face. She tried to move forward, to reach her teacher, but her body wouldn't cooperate.

Her exhaustion weighed down on her like an anchor. The overwhelming spiritual pressure of the Great Hollows made every step feel like wading through a crushing tide. Her limbs trembled, and her breath came out in ragged gasps, but she clenched her fists.

I can't… let him face this alone!

Meanwhile, Ikkaku stood frozen, his hands trembling slightly as he tightened his grip on Hōzukimaru. His voice wavered with uncharacteristic emotion.

"All this time, I thought he was some heartless bastard…" He blinked rapidly, his vision blurring slightly. "Turns out… he's a real man!"

At that moment, in Ikkaku's mind, Uehara Shiroha's figure towered over every Shinigami he had ever known. Though still incomparable to Captain Zaraki, Uehara's sheer presence had surpassed everyone else he had ever fought.

The moment of admiration, however, was cut short—

Because the sky turned blood-red.

Dozens of Cero beams, charged with immense spiritual energy, fired simultaneously, engulfing Uehara Shiroha in an explosion of blinding crimson light.

The sheer force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling across the desert, causing the ground to tremble. Sand and debris blasted into the air, creating a massive dust storm that swallowed the battlefield.

The Shinigami shielded their eyes from the onslaught of wind and grit.

When the dust settled, all that remained was a smoking crater where Uehara Shiroha had stood.

A solemn silence hung in the air.

"The fool actually did it…" Yumichika whispered, his usual smirk absent.

"The gap is open! Run!" one of the 11th Division Shinigami yelled.

"Don't waste his sacrifice!" Yumichika echoed, his voice grim.

Shinigami turned and began sprinting toward the escape route, their faces a mix of fear and sorrow.

"Thank you, pretty boy!" someone shouted over their shoulder.

"Well done, Vice Commander!"

Some, however, had a different reaction.

Fueled by reckless rage, a few of the more battle-hungry Shinigami surged forward, rushing straight at the Killian that had just unleashed its Cero. Their blades flashed as they prepared to strike in a desperate counterattack.

Madarame Ikkaku, however, remained rooted in place, his red-rimmed eyes locked on the swirling dust cloud where Uehara Shiroha had been. His heart pounded violently in his chest.

A real Shinigami never dies kneeling.

They die standing.

Even after enduring the impossible… they remain standing.

Nanao could barely breathe. She clenched her trembling fists and forced her body to move, her legs burning with exhaustion. I have to reach him!

And then—

A gust of wind swept through the battlefield.

The dust cleared.

And standing in the center of the devastation—untouched—was Uehara Shiroha.

Nanao stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat.

Ikkaku and Yumichika's eyes widened in unison.

A deathly silence spread through the battlefield.

Uehara Shiroha stood unscathed, his robes immaculate, his silver hair flowing slightly in the night breeze. A thin, nearly transparent barrier of spiritual energy shimmered around him—Universal Barrier—his perfected defense. Not a single grain of sand had touched him.

Then, he slowly lifted his Zanpakutō.

A nearly transparent, diamond-shaped hilt gleamed in his hands as he gripped it tightly.

His voice was calm.

"Ice Age."

The temperature plummeted instantly.

A wave of absolute zero burst forth from Uehara, racing across the battlefield like an unseen storm.

The fifty towering Killians—each over a hundred meters tall—froze in an instant.

Crystallized mid-motion, they stood like massive ice sculptures, their bodies trapped in eternal stillness.

The light of the moon reflected off the frozen giants, casting an eerie yet mesmerizing glow across the desert. The battlefield, once a place of chaos, had been transformed into a frozen graveyard.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

No one moved.

It was as if time itself had frozen along with the Hollows.

Uehara Shiroha turned slightly, expecting the others to admire his handiwork. Surely, this display of artistry deserved some recognition? Soul Society needed to appreciate true beauty.

But when he turned…

He found everyone frozen in place.

Not literally.

But figuratively.

Madarame Ikkaku, Yumichika, and the remaining 11th Division Shinigami stood stiffly, their expressions blank. Their wide, disbelieving eyes locked onto him as if witnessing something incomprehensible.

If someone else had arrived at that moment, they might have mistaken the Shinigami for being frozen solid along with the Killians.

A long silence followed.

Then, finally—

Madarame Ikkaku broke it.

"...Am I dreaming?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yumichika inhaled sharply, his usually refined tone cracking. "No… it's real."

The two exchanged glances.

And in each other's eyes, they saw the same thing—unparalleled shock and horror.

A single sword.

One attack.

Fifty Hollows—annihilated.

Is this even something a shinigamu can do?

Their thoughts swirled with disbelief.

Even Captains couldn't do something like this… could they?

For a moment, Ikkaku felt a bead of sweat trail down his forehead. He had once challenged this man to a fight.

Just thinking about it made him feel like the biggest fool alive.

At least he was alive.

Fighting Uehara Shiroha might have been the second most glorious moment of his life.

The first? Fighting under Captain Zaraki.

Of course, neither he nor Yumichika dared to even question whether Captain Zaraki could do something like this.

Because they honestly didn't know.

The rest of the 11th Division finally snapped out of their stupor.

Their reactions were… as expected.

They roared, pounding their chests in triumph.

"The Vice Commander is a monster!"

"Long live Uehara Shiroha!"

"He took down fifty Hollows in one hit!"

"Hey, wait—do you think Captain Zaraki could—?"

"If you dare to disrespect Captain Zaraki, I'll make you commit seppuku!"

Meanwhile, Suì-Fēng, who had been rushing toward the battlefield, abruptly stopped in her tracks.

Her sharp eyes locked onto the towering ice sculptures in the distance.

Even frozen, the Killians exuded a suffocating pressure. The sight was both beautiful and utterly terrifying.

But compared to the man who had created them…

They were nothing.

Suì-Fēng's expression darkened.

"What the hell is this man…?"

She had cursed Uehara Shiroha countless times before.

But this time…

It carried an entirely different meaning.

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