Fighting Blind
Byakuya vanished again.
Harry barely had time to register the first attack before a shockwave of force slammed into him from behind. He twisted, spinning his scythe, but Byakuya was already gone—reappearing at his side with another lightning-fast slash.
Harry blocked on instinct, the impact rattling his bones.
Then Byakuya vanished again.
Another strike—this time from above.
Then behind.
Then to the side.
Each attack was so precise, so fast, so fluid, that Harry couldn’t do anything except react. He was losing ground, falling into a pattern of defense, and if he didn’t break it—he would lose.
He needed to think.
Harry exhaled sharply, trying to track Byakuya’s movements—but his eyes couldn’t keep up.
That’s when he realized it.
He was relying too much on his sight.
Byakuya wasn’t just fast—he was too fast to see.
Harry had learned how to fight using his eyes, his reflexes, his instincts—but that wouldn’t work here. If he wanted to win, he had to stop chasing Byakuya’s image and start feeling his presence.
So he did something insane.
He shut his eyes.
Renji’s jaw dropped. “Wait—what the hell is he doing?!”
Ichigo frowned. “...Adapting.”
The battlefield shifted.
Byakuya moved again, his speed blinding—
But now, Harry wasn’t watching.
He was listening.
Feeling the subtle disruption in the air, the way the chain of Mors Vincula trembled, responding to the shift in spiritual pressure.
Byakuya’s next strike came—from behind.
Harry moved before it landed.
He turned sharply, spinning his scythe in a perfect arc—
CLANG!
Byakuya’s blade met his.
For the first time, Harry countered before the attack landed.
The shift was instant.
Byakuya paused for a fraction of a second, his sharp eyes flickering with the smallest hint of acknowledgment.
Harry didn’t let him reset.
He moved forward—his chain snapping outward, his blade spinning with deadly precision. His attacks flowed, guided not by sight, but by feel.
Every flicker of movement, every shift in Reiatsu, every vibration in the chain—he knew exactly where Byakuya would be.
The captains watching from the sidelines felt the shift.
Soi Fon’s eyes narrowed. “He’s predicting Byakuya’s movements.”
Hitsugaya folded his arms. “No. He’s not predicting them—he’s sensing them before they happen.”
Byakuya’s voice, calm as ever, cut through the battlefield. “Impressive.”
Then, with a single motion—
He raised his blade.
And released it.
“Scatter, Senbonzakura.”
The blade disintegrated into a thousand glowing pink petals—each one a razor-sharp fragment of death.
Harry felt them rise into the air, the sheer pressure of their movement shifting like a tidal wave around him.
This was it.
The real fight had begun.
And Harry was ready.