Blood seeped from the wound on his forehead, soaking his brows before trickling into his eyes.
The sting of the cut, the faint numbness, and the cool sensation of blood flowing down mixed into something strangely irritating. It wasn't unbearable, but it was enough to make him restless.
Keeping one eye fixed on his opponent, Ichigo Kurosaki dismissed the spirit blade in his left hand and wiped at his eye.
"I really don't get you," Ikkaku Madarame said. His own forehead was split open as well, blood blurring his vision. "You fight pretty well, but in the middle of a standoff you actually lower your weapon to rub your eye? Even from this distance, I could've launched a sneak attack."
"Like I care!" Ichigo Kurosaki shot back, annoyed by his tone. "The blood was getting in my eyes. I couldn't see!"
"You've got combat experience, but no sense of preparation." Ikkaku Madarame popped open the end of his scabbard, took out the medicine hidden inside, and applied it to his forehead. "Wiping it does nothing. You stop the bleeding."
"Hey!" Ichigo Kurosaki bristled. "Hemostatic medicine? You sneaky bastard, you kept it for yourself!"
"Sneaky? That's called wisdom!" Ikkaku Madarame barked. "At a time like this, you should be impressed that a seasoned fighter like me plans ahead. What do you mean I kept it for myself? If I handed it to you, would you even dare use it?"
As he spoke, he planted his sword in the ground in front of him. "Go on!"
"Oh."
Ichigo Kurosaki sheathed the Crescent Spirit Blade, walked over at an easy pace, and dug the hemostatic medicine out from the hilt before smearing it onto his forehead.
"Ooh. That's nice and cool. This stuff's pretty good."
"Of course it is. This is—wait, you actually used it?!"
"You're the one who told me to!"
"You really had the nerve to use it?"
"Didn't you just use it yourself?" Ichigo Kurosaki said as he pulled the sword from the ground and handed it back. "Here. Thanks."
"…"
Ikkaku Madarame took it on reflex. By the time he looked up, Ichigo Kurosaki had already run back to his original spot.
"Let's go!"
The Crescent Spirit Blade and the Spirit Blade re-formed in his hands, both weapons glowing with a deep blue light, their presence sharp and imposing.
"Hmph… Hahahahaha!" Ikkaku Madarame suddenly burst out laughing. "As expected of a friend of Muten Natsu. You're pretty interesting!"
"You say that like you know him."
"He stayed in the 11th Division for a long time. Of course I know him." Ikkaku Madarame rolled his wrist, giving his Zanpakutō a shake. "Didn't expect him to drag a rookie like you around. You're a weird one. You look green, but your reactions are sharp. Your moves are almost on my level."
"Huh?"
"From the way you fight, you didn't learn from Muten Natsu." Ikkaku Madarame knew Muten Natsu's sword style well. "That guy never enjoys a fight. He's always chasing the quickest kill so he can hurry home to… So who taught you?"
"Taught me? He only trained me for a few days. Not sure that makes him my Master, but he did teach me how to fight." Ichigo Kurosaki answered. "His name's Kisuke Urahara. You probably don't know him."
"…I see." Ikkaku Madarame's expression shifted at once. "So he's your Master."
Ichigo Kurosaki blinked at the reaction. "You actually know him?"
"You're the one who doesn't." Ikkaku Madarame suddenly locked the scabbard and hilt together. "Looks like I don't have to worry about you dropping dead right away. Extend—Hōzukimaru!"
He yanked his arm back. The blade and hilt connected and stretched out, Reiatsu surging as the Zanpakutō transformed into a long spear.
"Ichigo, here I come!"
Ichigo Kurosaki saw him step forward—then in the very next instant, the sharp spearhead was already closing in on his face.
An inch longer, an inch stronger.
The advantage of reach was on full display.
As Ichigo Kurosaki tilted his head to dodge, Ikkaku Madarame gripped the butt of the spear, twisted his body, and the spearhead swept fiercely toward the direction Ichigo had just evaded.
The Crescent Spirit Blade rested at his side. Using the wide blade as cover, Ichigo Kurosaki barely managed to block the incoming spear tip.
Ikkaku Madarame's right arm suddenly snapped back. His left hand loosened just enough for the shaft to slide through his palm. The spearhead recoiled, then shot forward again as his right hand thrust out, the gleaming tip driving straight toward Ichigo Kurosaki's forehead.
Anger flared in Ichigo Kurosaki's chest. He swung his spirit blade hard, knocking the spear aside, and at the same time slashed with the Crescent Spirit Blade. A crescent-shaped stream of Reishi peeled off from the blade and sped toward Ikkaku Madarame.
"Oh?"
Using Ichigo Kurosaki's own force, Ikkaku Madarame spun Hōzukimaru in a full arc. The spear whirled once, and its butt end struck the incoming Reishi crescent out of the air.
Ichigo Kurosaki tried to use the opening to close the distance, but the moment he stepped in, Hōzukimaru's tip had already swung back around.
It looked as though he had thrown himself straight onto Ikkaku Madarame's spear.
Twisting his body to the side, Ichigo Kurosaki dodged and attempted to rush forward along the length of the spear shaft.
But with a casual flick of his arm, Ikkaku Madarame drew Hōzukimaru back like a coiling viper. In the next instant, it shot out again, the tip driving toward Ichigo Kurosaki's chest.
"Damn it!"
With no other option, Ichigo Kurosaki raised the Crescent Spirit Blade in front of him and forcefully blocked the strike.
The impact was far heavier than he expected. The blow sent him flying backward.
His feet scraped hard against the ground as he tried to bleed off the force. After several staggering steps, he finally steadied himself, glaring stubbornly at Ikkaku Madarame.
Before, when they had been trading blade for blade, they'd been evenly matched.
But after Ikkaku Madarame released his Shikai, everything had changed. His fighting style, his tempo—it was like facing a completely different opponent.
"Nice reactions," Ikkaku Madarame said, giving his spear a sharp flourish. "I'm going to speed things up now. Don't lose sight of it!"
The spear thrust forward again.
Recalling the way Muten Natsu fought, Ichigo Kurosaki let out a low shout and charged in. The Crescent Spirit Blade knocked the spear tip aside as his body turned with the motion. When Ikkaku Madarame pulled the spear back for another strike, Ichigo Kurosaki deflected it again, keeping his momentum flowing.
Like a small blue-glowing top, he spun forward bit by bit, pressing closer to Ikkaku Madarame.
"Didn't I tell you… don't lose sight of it?" Ikkaku Madarame's eyes widened. "Split—Hōzukimaru!"
With a fierce roar, the long spear suddenly split into three sections, linked together by chains.
The Hōzukimaru that had just been knocked aside followed the arc of Ichigo Kurosaki's spin and wrapped around his body. The sharp spearhead swept straight for his throat.
Ichigo Kurosaki had only just begun to adjust to the spear's rhythm when it transformed without warning into a three-section staff.
The blade's icy edge brushed his throat, cold steel biting into skin.
Darkness swallowed his vision.
"Can you hear me, Ichigo?"