CHAPTER 37: CHAPTER 37: HOLLOW

"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! "

"Hado #31: Shakkahou!"

I thrust my palm forward, channeling my Reiryoku with precision. A small crimson orb formed in front of my hand, pulsing with unstable energy. For a brief, hopeful moment, I thought it might actually work—but then the sphere sputtered and dissolved into wisps of red smoke.

"Damn it," I muttered, dropping my arm and rolling my shoulder.

I’d been at this for over an hour now, trying different variations of Reiryoku output. Sometimes I pushed more power into the spell, sometimes less, but the result remained frustratingly consistent: a tiny red ball that fizzled out before I could launch it. Unlike Byakurai, where I couldn’t even form the lightning, at least Shakkahou was taking shape—but it was still useless if

I couldn’t stabilize it.

I took a deep breath and centered myself. The training grounds behind my house were quiet this morning, the early summer air still cool enough to be comfortable. Perfect conditions for practice, yet I had nothing to show for it.

"Let’s try again," I said to no one in particular.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the flow of energy within me. I could feel my Reiryoku responding, circulating through my body like a current. The incantation had helped—at least I was getting further than my attempts with Byakurai—but something was still missing.

"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Hado #31: Shakkahou!"

Another red sphere formed, slightly larger this time, glowing with potential. I held my breath, willing it to stabilize. For two seconds, maybe three, it hovered above my palm, and I felt a surge of excitement—

Then it collapsed again, dissolving into nothing.

"This is getting ridiculous," I growled, frustration building in my chest.

I checked my status window, hoping to see some kind of skill had formed, but there was nothing. No [Shakkahou] skill, not even something generic like [Kido Proficiency] to show for my efforts. Just the same old list I’d had before starting this training session.

You may be asking why I was outside here in the clearing rather than my newly built training basement. I was experimenting with something I wasn’t used to and didn’t want to blow up my stuff or my new house. Plus, the sunlight was nice to be in. I was already spending too much time down there working on my physique and magic formulas.

I sighed and looked over at Kuroka on her stone pillar. The black cat was lounging on the custom-built stone pillar I’d created for her, which now had an overhead balcony to provide shade. The roof was constructed in such a way that a feline could lounge on it quite comfortably if they wanted sun instead.

I was staring to think I was spoiling her a little too much.

"Eh, it’s fun too," I thought.

She was pretending not to watch me, her golden eyes half-lidded as if she were about to doze off, but I knew better. If she truly wasn’t interested, she’d actually be asleep. In the months she’d been living with me, I’d learned to read her feline body language.

"Enjoying the show?" I called over to her.

Her tail flicked once in response, neither confirming nor denying my accusation.

I refocused on my task, determined to make at least some progress today. One more attempt couldn’t hurt.

"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Hado #31: Shakkahou!"

The crimson orb flickered into existence, hung in the air for a brief, promising moment—then fizzled out like all the others.

"Screw this," I muttered, my patience finally exhausted.

I dropped my arms to my sides, letting my shoulders slump. This clearly wasn’t working. Not having a spiritual body made this way more difficult. The only problem, is that I didn’t know how to get one of those outside of dying. Already did that once, don’t really want to do it again.

Cultivation was still stubbornly sitting at Rank 9, no matter how many nights I spent on it. Now it only directly increased my reiryoku capacity and helped it flow more efficiently. It was helpful at least, because it helped me cast spells that much faster. But I knew that I was missing something.

I needed to try something else. I had Reiryoku—that much was certain. If I couldn’t channel it through the structured pathways of Kidō, perhaps I needed to try something more direct.

I held out my right hand, palm up, and began to concentrate. Instead of trying to shape my energy according to the specific formula of Shakkahou, I simply gathered my Reiryoku, pooling it in my palm without any particular structure. The familiar warm sensation spread through my arm as the energy concentrated.

"If I can’t do Kidō," I thought, "what about the other energy attacks from Bleach?"

Getsuga Tenshou seemed too specialized for Zangetsu, and I wasn’t sure Cero would work for a human like me. But there had to be something...

I reached out mentally to Shinjūka, the zanpakutō secured at my back. ’Any suggestions on how I might replicate some kind of energy attack?’

Her voice echoed in my mind, smooth and amused. ’You’re overthinking it, as usual. Stop thinking about it, and just do it. Use your instinct that you so commonly like to ignore.’

I pouted a little, considering her words. "I was getting better," I muttered.

"Doing what your adolescent hormones tell you doesn’t really count," she giggled out. "Clear your mind of thoughts on how to do it." I couldn’t help but grumble just a little, but then did what she told me to.

I raised my hand and aimed at the tree in front of me, clearing all of my thoughts. I was not going to just try. I was not going to attempt. I was not going to fail. The tree was simply going to perish.

As I gave up on thinking and simply let go, something unexpected happened.

A dark red orb materialized in front of my outstretched hand, growing rapidly in both size and intensity. The crimson sphere pulsed with raw power, casting eerie shadows across the clearing as it illuminated everything around me with its bloody glow. I could feel the heat radiating from it, the energy drawing from somewhere deep within me.

"Holy shit," I whispered, my eyes widening as the orb continued to expand, now the size of a basketball and growing denser by the second.

The energy felt different from my previous attempts—wilder, more primal, less structured than Kidō. It wasn’t just Reiryoku; there was something else feeding into it, something darker that I couldn’t identify. The pressure building in my palm became unbearable, like trying to hold back a flood with my bare hands.

I couldn’t contain it anymore. With an instinctive push of will, I released the energy.

The red orb erupted into a devastating beam that tore through the air with a sound like reality itself was being shredded. The blast, nearly three feet in diameter, slammed into the tree, then evaporated the middle of it. And the next dozen trees behind that one. A perfect cylinder of destruction was carved into the forest for about 60 feet. The trees, realizing they no longer had a base, fell and toppled to the ground.

{New Skill Unlocked! "Incomplete Cero" (Rank 1): A drastically inferior version of a true cero, but still powerful enough to be considered a threat to weaker opponents. Will evolve to the skill "Cero" once "?" is achieved.}

I stared at the notification in disbelief, my mind struggling to process what I’d just witnessed. The charred path of destruction stretched before me, still smoking from the raw power that had just erupted from my hand. Sixty feet of forest obliterated in an instant.

"Did I just fire off a cero? I’m not a hollow, am I?" The thought sent a chill down my spine. Hollows were corrupted souls, monsters that devoured other spirits. The idea that I might share something with them was unsettling.

"Shinjūka," I reached out through our spiritual connection, "how and why did I just fire off a cero?"

Her response was immediate and cryptic. "Where do you think the mask came from?"

The question hit me like a bucket of cold water.

The mask. Her mask. I thought back to our first meeting in my inner world—how she’d worn that bone-white mask covering her face, how aggressive and volatile she’d been while wearing it. I remembered the moment it shattered during our battle, revealing her true face beneath. How she’d become softer, more loving after it was gone.

It started to make sense now. The darker energy feeding into my attack hadn’t been some unknown power—it had been hollow energy. My own hollow energy.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" I asked, not accusingly, just curious.

"Baby steps, my dear wielder," she replied, her voice warm in my mind. "You also need to find those conclusions yourself. Any input from me would have diminished meaning and impact. It’s possible you would have been weaker for it too."

Her logic was sound. I needed to earn my power, to accept myself rather than being told who and what I was. As for the hollow power... I had only asked for a zanpakutō when this all began. Arrancar had those too. And then there was Ichigo, who was all four things: human, Quincy, hollow, and Shinigami.

Was I a hybrid too?

Before I could even ask, Shinjūka spoke up again in my mind. "You’re not a Quincy. Not only that, even if you were, it would be meaningless in this world because you don’t have ambient Reishi to draw on."

Well, there went that theory. No god-like powers like Ichigo, then. Magic would have to make up for it.

I looked down at my palm, flexing my fingers. The power had flowed so naturally once I’d stopped overthinking it. Maybe that was the key—trusting my instincts rather than trying to force my abilities into forms they weren’t meant to take and trying to think and control every aspect of them.

"So what am I exactly?" I asked aloud softly, more to myself than to Shinjūka.

"You’re you," she answered anyway. "Human with a zanpakutō spirit and hollow powers. A unique combination for this world." I had a feeling she was oversimplifying things.

"But how? How did I end up with hollow powers?" I pressed, needing to understand what was happening to me. This was a fundamental shift in how I viewed myself.

"Your soul has always contained these aspects, among others," Shinjūka replied. "When you were reborn into this world, you brought everything with you—including the potential for hollow powers. I am the manifestation of the other part of your soul, but I also contain the essence of your inner hollow, among other things."

"You keep saying that..." I was certainly noticing a pattern.

"I do," she replied simply, implying she wasn’t going to tell me anything further what it meant.

I frowned, trying to process this information. "So the mask..."

"Was a physical representation of that hollow aspect," she finished for me. "Rejecting parts of your soul, then transmigrating with the Goddess’ unique gifts, those parts of your soul manifested into things that translated to the power given to you. When you remembered me, the mask shattered to reveal this part of you. The mask now waits, dormant," she explained.

"Well, for now. If you keep exploring these powers, then it may not remain that way," she continued.

That made a strange kind of sense. The mask had shattered during our battle in my inner world, but the power behind it hadn’t disappeared. It was simply a part of Shinjūka, part of me, part of my own soul. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to face that part of myself.

I glanced back at the devastation I’d caused. The smoking path cut through the forest looked like something from a disaster movie. I was glad I was really deep into the forest where no one went.

I looked over at Kuroka, who had risen to all fours on her stone pillar, her golden eyes wide and fixed not on me, but on the smoking path of destruction I’d created. Her tail was completely still—unusual for her, as it typically swished with lazy confidence or flicked with mild annoyance.

"Finally impressed you, huh?" I called over to her, a hint of pride in my voice despite myself.

She didn’t respond. Her gaze remained locked on the devastated forest line, her body unnaturally rigid. I’d never seen her react this way to any of my training before—not even when I’d practiced my more advanced spells.

"What, it’s not all that impressive as far as power goes," I said, walking toward her. Compared to what high-class devils could do, this was probably child’s play. "It’s just raw energy without much finesse." If I had to guess, she was probably just impressed I did that without any chants or magic circle formulas.

As I approached, she slowly shifted her attention from the destruction to me, her eyes still wide. Then, as if catching herself, she sat down and adopted a more composed posture. But there was something in her feline gaze I couldn’t quite read—suspicion, perhaps, or fear? Maybe both. Cat faces were notoriously difficult to interpret, but I’d gotten better at reading her over the months.

When she eventually left her cat form—if she ever did—I’d have to ask her about this reaction. She clearly knew something I didn’t.

I reached down to pet her, but she dodged my hand with a quick backward movement. Not deterred, I shifted my approach and went for the spot behind her ear that I knew she couldn’t resist. Within seconds, she melted into my touch, a soft purr rumbling from her chest.

"You’re such a cutie." I murmured, continuing to scratch that sweet spot. Her purr intensified, though her eyes remained fixed on me with that unreadable expression, before shifting into a knowing gleam, like I had just stated the obvious.

I glanced back at the destruction I’d caused. The trees were still smoldering, thin wisps of smoke rising into the clear morning sky. I’d need to be more careful with this power—testing it in my basement training room was definitely out of the question now. The last thing I needed was to blow up my own house.

As I was about to walk back to continue, I felt Kuroka’s paw bat at my hand, demanding more attention. I smiled despite myself and resumed petting her.

"You’re spoiled, you know that?" Since when did I enjoy spoiling girls? Eh, I wasn’t worried about it. It was fun. Soon I walked back over to where I was.

"Let’s try that again," I muttered, turning toward a different section of the forest.

Like last time, I didn’t overthink it. I simply raised my hand, focused my intent, and let the energy flow. The crimson orb formed more quickly this time, growing to the size of a basketball before I released it.

The resulting beam tore through another section of trees, leaving a similar path of destruction. My next shot, rather than form one shot, I wanted to try to sustain it. So when I fired, I continued to pour reiryoku into the attack to fuel it. It lasted about 10 seconds before I noticed my Reiryoku was dangerously low.

{Incomplete Cero skill has reached Rank 2!}

I couldn’t help but smile at the notification. This was progress—real, tangible progress after hours of frustration with Kidō. But geez this thing was an energy hog. I’d have to rank it up quickly to mitigate that.

"I wonder..." I murmured, raising my hand again but this time concentrating on making the energy more focused, more compressed. The red orb that formed was smaller but denser, pulsing with concentrated power. Reiryoku Dominion for the win!

When I released it, the beam was narrower, around 6 inches in diameter, and seemed to cut even deeper into the forest, extending perhaps 80 feet before dissipating.

{Incomplete Cero skill has reached Rank 3!}

"Interesting," I said, flexing my fingers. "The more I compress it, the more powerful and ’sharper’ it becomes."

I spent the next hour experimenting with different variations—larger, wider beams that covered more area but did less damage; tightly focused ones that could pierce through multiple trees; even trying to change the trajectory mid-flight (which failed spectacularly, nearly setting fire to a section of the forest that I had to quickly extinguish).

By the time I decided to take a break, my Incomplete Cero had reached Rank 5. Even though it seemed to have some power to it, this cero paled in comparison to the landscape-altering blasts that the Espada or Ichigo were capable of. Maybe one day.

But if I could perform a cero, what other hollow abilities could I use? I knew what I was going to be experimenting with the next few weeks, outside of my normal magic experimentation and development.

The sun was going down, so I decided to return for the day. I looked around.

"Those poor trees. I should probably start planting some..."

I scooped up Kuroka who hadn’t taken her alert eyes off me the entire time I was using my new attack. Whatever it was, there was something about it that seemed to greatly interest her, and I don’t think it was it’s power.

She let out an adorable little squeak, then I shunpo’d back to my house. I’m sure the speed didn’t bother her, considering how strong she supposedly was.

I had a lot to work on between now and summer break.

XXX

Sona POV

Sona stood at the window of the student council room, watching the rain tap against the glass. It was a perfect day for chess—gloomy enough that no one would notice if she spent her lunch period indoors, challenging the one student who had managed to interest her intellectually. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Tsubaki: "He’s on his way."

She adjusted her glasses, smoothing down her uniform skirt and checking her reflection in the window. Not that appearances mattered for a chess match, of course. This was purely academic interest. A reexamination of his abilities, nothing more.

The door opened behind her, and she turned to see Toshio Amano standing in the doorway. His steel-blue eyes met hers with that calculating gaze she found so intriguing.

"You wanted to see me, Sona?" he asked, his tone formal but not cold. His habit of using her first name annoyed her, but she couldn’t make herself correct him.

"Yes. Thank you for coming." She gestured to the chess set she had already prepared on the coffee table. "I thought we might have a rematch."

One of his eyebrows rose slightly. "Another one?"

"Unless you have more pressing matters to attend to?" she replied, keeping her voice neutral, though a small part of her worried he might decline. She specifically chose today since she knew Kendo club didn’t meet today.

He seemed to consider for a moment before shrugging. "I suppose one game couldn’t hurt."

Sona watched him take a seat across from her, his movements precise and measured—just like hers. He chose black without being asked—another point of similarity between them. Both preferred to react, to counter, to observe the opponent’s strategy before revealing their own.

"How are things with the Occult Research Club?" she asked casually as she made her opening move, sliding a pawn forward.

"Fine." He responded to her pawn with one of his own, mirroring her movement.

"Though, I’m not officially a member so I’m not privy to most of the devil business. I’m sure you know much more than I do." Stated in the factual tone that Sona was intimately familiar with.

Sona advanced another pawn. "And with Akeno Himejima?"

His fingers paused over a chess piece, the barest hesitation before he moved his knight. "Quite well." He smiled slightly, his eyes going out of focus briefly, before returning to the match.

So the rumors were true. Not that she had been paying attention to school gossip, but it was difficult to miss the way they walked together, how she clung to his arm, and the subtle changes in his usually stoic demeanor when she was near.

Their game progressed in silence for several minutes, each of them capturing the other’s pieces in turn. Sona found herself watching his face more than the board—the slight furrow of concentration between his brows, the way his eyes darted from piece to piece, calculating possibilities.

"You’re still good," she noted as he captured her bishop with a move she hadn’t anticipated. In fact, he was the most challenging opponent she had ever faced off against.

"It’s not easy for me to forget how to be." His response was simple, but she detected a hint of something she couldn’t identify in his voice.

The middle game intensified, their pieces dancing across the board in complex patterns. Each time she thought she had him cornered, he found an escape. Each time he pressed an advantage, she discovered a counter. They were evenly matched—perhaps too evenly. Almost like it was on purpose.

She glanced at the clock.

"Do you enjoy being part of Rias’s group?" she asked, moving her queen to a more aggressive position.

"I’m not part of her peerage. If you’re asking if I enjoy having friends, then yes I do."

Were they really his only friends? That was a short list. She’d never admit it, but she hoped to be a part of that list.

He captured another of her pawns, his strategy becoming clearer now. Sona studied the board, seeing three moves ahead. If he continued on his current path, he would have her in check within five moves. Unless...

"You know," she said, adjusting her glasses, "I’ve been thinking about expanding my own peerage."

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, a flash of understanding passing through them. "Have you."

It wasn’t a question. He knew exactly what she was implying.

"I could- the student council could use someone with your... analytical abilities."

He moved his rook, exactly as she had predicted. "I feel like we’ve had this conversation already."

Sona countered, sacrificing a knight to protect her king. "Maybe it’s worth having again."

"I disagree," he said flatly.

Sona couldn’t help the half frown that formed on her face.

The game continued, the tension building with each move. She could feel sweat forming at the back of her neck. He was good—better than before. Had he been practicing more? Or was he always this good?

Then she noticed something odd. A slight hesitation before his next move, his fingers hovering over a bishop that could have given him a significant advantage. Instead, he chose another piece, one that left an opening in his defense.

Sona narrowed her eyes. Was he... letting her win AGAIN!?

The thought sent a surge of irritation through her. Why couldn’t he just take the damn win?

"Your move," he said, sitting back in his chair.

She studied the board again, seeing the path to victory he had just laid out for her. Two moves, and she could have him in checkmate. But only because he had deliberately created the opportunity.

"I don’t need you to let me win, Amano." Her voice came out sharper than intended.

His expression didn’t change. "I’m not sure what you mean."

"Please." She moved her queen aggressively, taking the bait he had offered but making her displeasure clear. "Don’t insult my intelligence."

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Now why would I do that?"

They completed the endgame in silence, the outcome now a foregone conclusion. When she finally called "Checkmate," the victory felt hollow.

"Well played," he said, helping her reset the pieces.

"Was it?" she couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. "Or did you just decide I needed the ego boost?"

He paused, a white pawn between his fingers. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters!" She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "What’s the point of a competition if one party isn’t even trying to win?"

He set the pawn down carefully, his movements deliberate. "Maybe winning isn’t always the point."

"Then what is?"

"Learning. Connection." He shrugged. "Take your pick."

Sona felt her face flush with annoyance. "If this is how you react to a simple chess game, I wonder how you’d handle an actual challenge."

"Like joining your peerage?" His voice remained calm, infuriatingly so.

"Perhaps." She crossed her arms, trying to regain her composure. She was determined to get him to join hers if he wouldn’t join Rias. She wanted him.

He stood up slowly, straightening his uniform jacket. "If this is your way of inviting someone to join a peerage, you’re doing a bad job of it."

The words stung more than they should have. "Excuse me?"

"Chess matches with ulterior motives. Thinly veiled recruitment attempts disguised as friendly competitions." He shook his head. "It lacks... authenticity."

Sona blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. "I—"

"Thank you for the game, Sitri-san." He bowed slightly, formal as ever. "But I have things to do tonight."

Before he reached for the door handle, he looked over his shoulder. "I’m not joining your peerage Sona. So stop trying. It’s getting old." There was no malice or annoyance in his tone, just a cold factual tone that Sona often used with her own peerage, only a little colder than usual.

And with that, he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Sona sank back into her chair, staring at the chess board where their battle had played out.

What had she done wrong? She had identified a potential asset, evaluated his abilities, and extended an invitation more than once. It was logical. Efficient.

Yet he had rejected her. Not just her offer, but her approach entirely. Maybe even herself, which bothered her the most.

Perhaps she should simply give up on recruiting him. The thought sent an unexpected pang through her chest. It wasn’t just about adding him to her peerage—though his intellect and apparent strength, according to what Rias had mentioned, would make him a valuable addition.

No, there was something else. Something she was reluctant to admit even to herself.

She admired him. His calm demeanor, his analytical mind, the way he carried himself with quiet confidence. He was, in many ways, exactly the type of person she respected. The type of person she was drawn to. He was the first person her age to intellectually challenge her.

But he had chosen Akeno instead. Akeno with her playful teasing and voluptuous figure. Akeno, who was everything Sona was not—spontaneous where she was planned, emotional where she was logical, curved where she was... not.

Sona glanced down at her chest, a flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks even though she was alone. It was absurd to think that physical attributes would influence someone like Toshio, who clearly valued intellect and strategy. And yet, what other explanation was there?

Logically, they were perfectly suited. Their minds worked similarly, their approach to problems aligned, their values—at least from what she could observe—were compatible.

But logic rarely dictated matters of attraction, did it?

She removed her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was ridiculous. She was Sona Sitri, heir to the Sitri clan, student council president to-be, and one of the top-ranked students in Kuoh Academy. She should not be dwelling on why a human boy preferred another girl over her.

And yet, she couldn’t help the whispered curse that escaped her lips, directed at her genetics and the modest figure they had bestowed upon her.

The bell rang, signaling the end of afternoon club meetings. She straightened her shoulders, adjusted her glasses, and headed for the door. There would be other potential recruits, other intellectual challenges. She didn’t need him.

She rather die than be caught chasing a human anyway.

But as she stepped into the hallway, she caught sight of Toshio and Akeno at the far end of the corridor, her arm looped through his, her head resting on his shoulder as they walked. The sight sent another unwelcome pang through her chest.

She turned in the opposite direction, her steps brisk and purposeful. She had a student council to run, a school to shape, devil politics to navigate, and a town to protect.

No time for distractions.