"Araki! You mustn't let yourself degenerate like this. Master Genryūsai has high hopes for you."
Chōjirō spoke anxiously to Araki. He seemed more concerned about Araki's well-being than Araki himself.
He feared Araki would squander his talent on frivolous pursuits, ultimately betraying the high expectations his master had for him.
"You think I'm pathetic?" Are you serious, Sasakibe? Do you think I'm someone without self-control?" Araki frowned, glaring at him. "My eyes are like this for other, more important reasons, not because of what you're implying."
"Well..." Chōjirō hesitated, opening his mouth as if to speak, then stopping himself.
"I do think you're the kind of person who lacks self-control," he finally said, nodding.
"Hehe..." Araki simply laughed, clearly annoyed.
He pointed at Chōjirō's nose with a cold smile. "I understand. So you're here to get beaten."
"Uh... how do I put this?" Chōjirō stammered. "Araki, what you said isn't accurate; I didn't come here to cause trouble. I came to the 11th Division hoping you could give me some advice so I can improve."
"After you and Master Genryūsai spoke in the meeting room, he seemed... different. Since then, no matter how busy he is, he dedicates at least two hours each day to practicing hakuda (hand-to-hand combat), zanjutsu (swordsmanship), hoho (movement), kido (demon arts), and even Zanpakutō control."
"Seeing Master Genryūsai constantly pushing himself forward, I know I can't continue as I am. I fear I'll soon become unworthy to stand by his side as his lieutenant."
"So, I'm asking for your help, Araki. Make me stronger. Make me worthy of serving Master Genryūsai." He corrected Araki's misunderstanding and explained the true purpose of his visit.
Ever since Araki had given his advice to Yamamoto, the Captain-Commander had seemingly banished Araki and Unohana from the 1st Division barracks, forbidding them from entering without his explicit permission.
Yet, in reality, Yamamoto had taken Araki's words to heart, diligently training for months in preparation for the Quincy's arrival.
"Haha..." Araki chuckled lightly, showing no surprise that Yamamoto had listened to him. "So, to put it simply, Sasakibe, you want me to help you train and become stronger, correct?"
"Yes," Chōjirō replied, bowing slightly.
"I understand. Since you're asking so sincerely, it would be rude of me, as your 'best friend,' not to help. But my training is rigorous; I hope you can endure it," Araki said with a chuckle.
"I know, don't worry. No matter how difficult it is, I will persevere," Chōjirō replied seriously.
"Very well," Araki said. "As I said before, helping you train is much the same as beating you. If you want to learn how to fight, you must first learn how to be beaten. Let's go; let's have a good spar now." He gestured towards the door of the 11th Division office. "The training grounds should be cleared by Retsu and her subordinates."
"Huh?!" He was slightly confused; something about Araki's words felt off, but he couldn't pinpoint what.
When Araki led him to a large open space outside the 11th Division barracks, Chōjirō finally understood.
"This open area... wasn't here before, was it?" he asked cautiously.
"I had it prepared for you," Araki replied truthfully.
"Prepared for me?! How did you know I'd come?" He was stunned.
"I told you, my eyes are like this for other reasons." Araki smiled, a faint scarlet light flickering in his eyes.
To prepare for the potential Quincy invasion, he had constantly maintained his advanced Observation Haki, allowing him to foresee the future.
While at the third level of spiritual power, he could only see a few seconds into the future.
Now, at the second level, he could see several minutes ahead. He had foreseen Chōjirō's visit and instructed Unohana to prepare the training grounds. This was the "unfinished business" she had mentioned.
Chōjirō felt beads of sweat appear on his forehead. He felt as if he were caught in a web, controlled by Araki's unseen threads.
"Araki, you're still as terrifying as ever; Master Genryūsai was right about you," he said with a helpless smile, his admiration for Yamamoto's foresight growing.
"Alright, Sasakibe, stop dithering and come here," Araki said, ignoring the comment. "Let me see how much you've improved in the last century. Of course, if it's not up to my expectations, you'll be beaten. Be prepared." He hooked a finger at Chōjirō, inviting him to attack.
Araki knew exactly what Chōjirō needed: training in resilience.
He remembered all too well how easily Chōjirō had been defeated after his Bankai was stolen by the Quincy.
Compared to the future lieutenant of the 5th Division, Momo Hinamori, Chōjirō's ability to withstand attacks was severely lacking.
"Then, I won't hold back," Chōjirō said, drawing his Zanpakutō and pointing it at Araki. "Pierce through, Gonryōmaru!"
As Chōjirō spoke the release command, a Western-style sword (rapier) materialized in his hand.
"Be careful." The instant his Zanpakutō was released, Chōjirō was already in front of Araki.
"Hehe," Araki simply smiled at the sword and casually grasped its blade with one hand.(TL/Aizen style.)
"What?!" Chōjirō was shocked.
Before he could react, Araki raised his foot and kicked Chōjirō in the abdomen.
"Oh no!" Chōjirō realized, too late, that he couldn't avoid the attack.
Bang! With a dull thud, he was sent flying backward.
"If this is all you have, Sasakibe, then I'm truly disappointed," Araki said, looking at Chōjirō as he landed. He casually untied his own Zanpakutō and stuck it into the ground. "Try your best to force me to draw my sword, Sasakibe."
Araki looked calmly at the fallen Chōjirō.
==============
And so, we are about to enter the Quincy arc...
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