One-Third (Final)

Fujimiya Makoto yearned for a peaceful life.

Since childhood, he had believed himself to be a man of few desires—unambitious, uncompetitive, free from greed or want. Many things others prized held little weight in his heart: wealth, emotions, status, power, knowledge... none moved him.

At one point, during his chuunibyou phase, he even fancied himself destined to live a detached, transcendent existence.

But then, like a certain shadow encountering the Mona Lisa in an art museum...

Everything changed the moment he learned to grasp his own spear.

For the first time, Fujimiya realized he harbored the same ugly, overwhelming desires as the "mundane" people he once scorned.

No—his were worse.

Far worse.

Yet all of it had been meticulously concealed beneath his unassuming, "above-it-all" facade, unnoticed by anyone.

But now, facing his own heart...

The mask had slipped.

And yet, how laughable.

In battle, the one thing that should never surface—lust—had become his killing blow.

Fujimiya slowly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the brat in her child's swimsuit standing on the white sand. His lips curled into a grin so terrifying it defied humanity.

"Be careful."

The shabby sword blinked.

Then—

Every muscle and nerve in her body tensed like a rubber band stretched to its limit. A primal, uncontrollable dread surged from her core.

A fraction of a second later...

Fujimiya vanished from her sight.

Not even wind or sound could keep up.

The shabby sword's instincts screamed. She crossed her blade defensively, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks under the effect of [No-Injury Zone].

In that frozen sliver of time...

Her eyes caught the glint of steel hovering just shy of her throat.

The searing pain of imagined laceration, the horrific fate awaiting her if Fujimiya won—it all struck her dumb. With no time for quips, she barely managed to swing her sword.

"Second Form, Revised: Water Moon!"

Rampant spiritual pressure erupted around her, casting wavering shadows as she lashed out, trying to disrupt Fujimiya's rhythm.

But Fujimiya was faster.

Before her blade could touch his chest, a crushing side kick slammed into her abdomen.

Short arms vs. long legs.

BOOM—

Spiritual energy detonated against the brat's midsection, sending her spinning into the sand with a dull thud. A dust cloud mushroomed, swirling violently, nearly blotting out the scene.

Yet before she could recover, Fujimiya was already airborne—a devastating overhead slash carving a blazing arc through the air.

"CLANG!"

The shabby sword barely raised her blade in time. The impact rattled her arms, driving her bare feet deep into the sand. A crater ten meters wide erupted beneath her, the force radiating outward like a meteor strike.

"Hey! HEY!" she shrieked between gritted teeth. "This is blatant cheating!"

"How long has it been since you last 'took care of business,' you bastard?!"

"SHUT UP—!" Fujimiya roared.

Pink heart symbols pulsed vividly in his eyes as he bellowed:

"Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to maintain my upstanding, socially acceptable image?!"

"To avoid career suicide, I've struggled every single day!"

"Playing the role of Unohana-sensei's respectful disciple!"

"The Genji School's promising young talent!"

"Kiri-chan's gentle big brother!"

"But YOU—"

With a wrathful howl, Fujimiya twisted his blade. The two katana screeched against each other before his overwhelming force wrenched them apart with a sharp crack!

A kick slammed into the shabby sword's shoulder, followed instantly by a reverse diagonal slash.

His escalating strength and razor-sharp technique forced her into retreat, her face twisting with panic.

For the first time, she truly felt Fujimiya's obsession—and realized how much her loose tongue had tormented his daily life.

The weight of guilt crushed her chest like a collapsing star.

Then Fujimiya's voice rose another octave:

"BUT YOU—!"

"You've been living it up without me in every classic adult masterpiece I've ever seen!"

"Wallowing in hedonism! Reveling in pleasure!"

"Do you know how—"

"—JEALOUS I AM?!"

The shabby sword's composure shattered.

Fujimiya rained down blows, driving her back as he roared: "Do you have any idea how hard it's been in the Soul Society without a single dirty magazine or video?!"

"Two years! TWO YEARS!"

"I didn't even last this long when I followed NoFap forums!"

"And you DARED to yap in my ear every day!"

"YAPPING TEMPTATIONS AT ME!"

The hearts in his eyes doubled.

His speed and strength surged again.

The shabby sword's eyes widened. Then her face paled—Oh no.

"Huh?! W-Wait—"

A split-second hesitation was all Fujimiya needed. His blade flicked upward with surgical precision.

Steel bit into her slender wrist. A sting forced her fingers open—

Her katana spun through the air before embedding itself in the sand with a thunk.

Disarmed, the brat froze mid-squat.

Fujimiya advanced, blade gleaming, smile predatory.

The white-haired brat—adorable with her sock-shaped hair accessories—forced a pleading grin:

"F-Fujimiya Fujimiya..."

"I'm your beloved Zanpakutō, right?"

"And I'm the essence of decades of your repressed id!"

"Fundamentally, we're on the same side, yeah?"

"So, uh..." She grimaced. "C-Can we talk this out?!"

"I'll give you my power right now!"

Fujimiya rested his katana against her throat and whispered sweetly:

"Right now?"

"Are you joking?"

He leaned down, voice rising.

"Hey."

"Look me in the eyes."

Their gazes locked.

The faint pink rings in the shabby sword's pupils shattered—

Matching Fujimiya's twin hearts perfectly.

Oh no.

I'm gonna get punished.

As the brat braced for impact, the encircling "100 Girlfriends" smiled in eerie harmony.

Only one question lingered in Fujimiya's mind:

If he ravaged the lust demon in his heart...

Would that count as conquering desire—or surrendering to it?

...

When Fujimiya finally left the white sands, a weathered wooden plaque rested in his palm.

[Yūsei: Dreamlike Intoxication]

The scenery shifted to a serene valley cradling a small lake.

There, the lying girl from the "movie theater" sat fishing, lazily flipping through a manga. Her bucket was empty—clearly a veteran of the Air Force.

Noticing Fujimiya, she shut her book with a smirk.

"I expected you to linger longer with that brat."

"To think you'd come so soon."

"What's wrong?"

"Not into lolis anymore? Even after all those BA and ahem doujins?"

Fujimiya stayed silent, eyeing her warily.

Fool him once, shame on her. Fool him twice? Not happening.

The rule here was... no lies, right?

"Compared to that horny idiot," he said flatly, "I'd rather earn your approval now."

The girl nodded sagely—then tossed him another plaque.

[Bound Truth, Fixed Falsehood]

"There. My power's yours too." She shooed him. "Now scram. You're scaring the fish."

"Huh?" Fujimiya blinked. This was... easy?

"If that brat was your 'Id,'" she explained, "then I'm the 'Ego'—your rational self."

"You've accepted your urges, and your Reiatsu meets the threshold. Why would I stop you?"

Her smirk turned sly. "Unless... you also want to tie me up with 'special calligraphy' and ropes?"

"Or is this about last time's 'arrow'?"

Fujimiya exhaled. "Just hand over the Shikai."

"Sure, sure~"

As he turned to leave, she called out:

"Oh—you won't get the last third yet, but remember..."

"Stay true to yourself, Fujimiya."