Kenpachi Ante Portas [Jingu]

Saigo cocked his head at the flashiness Julien showed. As expected of a guard, he took a tremendous amount of pride in what he said and how he acted. 

“You’re cute, Julien-kun,” he said, his voice notably sing-sing. “You even tried to confirm who I am before attacking. But you forgot something . . .” 

Three thin blades of reishi extended from the shadows of Julien’s coat. They aimed to pierce through his heart, and as they came from a plane he couldn’t predict and from a distance that was closer than his clothing, Saigo had no fear of him surviving. 

“. . . Mortals do not question gods.” Giggling, Saigo turned his attention back to the Kenpachi. She was angry. She was hungry. She was vicious. Like the bear that was the namesake of her zanpakutou, she was a mega predator. 

“Kenpachi-chan, can you use your bankai?” Saigo reached up from within his cloak then and grasped the collar. His spiritual pressure waned, fading away to the nothingness it once was. “I don’t want to break you before seeing it.” 

There was dramatic flare in everything that happened. Saigo loved it. The Knight Commander who was now running off after being wounded; the fukutaichou who fired his lightning into the sky; and Kenpachi. If there was ever a woman more dangerous, Saigo had never met her. 

“I know you don’t like long ranged techniques, Kenpachi-chan, but I hope you forgive me for dabbling in them. I am a quincy, after all,” Saigo said. He shrugged innocently. 

Sliding his right leg back and raising his left arm, the child manipulated the power he had sealed within him. The spiritual pressures of millions of unique souls pounded the broken landscape, and a green aura bubbled from his hand. The fingerless black gloves that he wore turned white, and the quincy pentagram on the back of it expanded. 

“Soulscream."

The attack fit the name. A massive beam, big enough to immolate trucks, exploded from Saigo’s palm. It was green in color, though Kenpachi could never see that. Nor could she see the thousands of faces locked within the blast. But she could hear their screaming and feel their torment as they aimed to rush over her. And should she be hit, Saigo hoped she’d still be able to stand. The idea of her surviving such a powerful blast was as exciting as it was unsettling to the Quincy King. 

Saigo strafed backwards and dodged a particularly deadly stroke that would have left him a head shorter. The Kenpachi was an animal. She did not use words, just grunted and growled as she swung. There wasn't an ounce of care if she cut some innocent bystander in half, toppled a building, or ever landed a single strike on the Quincy King. All she wanted was to feel her blades cut something and to smell the blood, which would just excite her every more. 

“You’re deadly, Kenpachi-chan,” Saigo spoke while dodging a slash that threatened to disembowel him, “but honestly, I don’t see why you swing so recklessly.” 

Saigo’s left arm shot up, and Kenpachi’s right blade smashed into it. The boy did not even budge.

“Soulslice.” From his arm extended a jade blade, jagged and sharp. And in that same breath it stabbed upwards, hoping to run through Jingu’s stomach and through her spine. 

The kick was stopped. 

Not by Saigo’s arms, which were preoccupied, or by his legs, which remained steadfast on an invisible plate of spirits. A jagged green crystal extended from his shoulder blade, curved around, and impaled the Kenpachi’s leg as if it were a skewer. 

“Kenpachi-Chan,” Saigo called out. Killing intense began to pour from him. “You’re so eager to die.” 

The crystal snapped backwards, pulling Jingu from her feet. Saigo was hoping to throw her again, this time tearing the crystal through her leg and ruining it so that she couldn’t walk or stand. Then again, when dealing with a living being that held enough power to fight with missing organs, he doubted any blow was crippling to her short of death. 

There wasn’t a wince or cry from the child as the brute’s leg crashed into his rib cage, only a cracking of the bones and his unfathomable power preventing him from flying off like a ragdoll. The clanking screech of their weapons marred the sound waves, and only accentuated their combined palpable ruthlessness that scarred the atmosphere.

“That hurt,” Saigo cooed, the following word of his soprano no doubt blending annoyance with her excitement, “Soulsegment.”

From the middle of the boy’s bare torso protruded an array of wide and serrated green crystals meant to turn Kenpachi into a pincushion while he imposed his strength onto their clash. His brows slanted with deadliness, and the glint in his eyes had enough viciousness to represent the both of them. “It's not fair that you can't see your own blood, Kenpachi-Chan.”