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"…Captain Kuchiki."
Renji's expression shifted uneasily, caught somewhere between pale dread and strained guilt, his voice faltering as the oppressive silence settled around them like a suffocating fog.
Byakuya Kuchiki entered the room without hesitation, his expression unreadable, steps as precise as his flawless scarf, every movement composed, carrying with it the quiet dignity of nobility. Trailing behind him was Omaeda, shoulders stiff, eyes darting nervously between the two captains, betraying the conflicted loyalty within him—respect for Su Li clashing with his instinctive deference to the power of the Kuchiki name, his every gesture soaked in nervous submission.
"I… I was just…" Renji began, though his words stumbled before they found direction.
"To speak to another captain about an official matter without the knowledge or permission of your own division's command is a breach of decorum," Byakuya said, his voice calm and frigid, the kind of cold that cut cleanly without needing to raise in volume.
Before the atmosphere could freeze any further, Su Li, reclining lazily at his desk with one leg draped across the other and a teacup balanced casually in his hand, chuckled softly, his tone playful yet layered with subtle provocation as he said, "Rukia's our classmate, after all, and it's natural for Renji to feel concerned—there's no conspiracy here, just nostalgia, wouldn't you agree, Captain Kuchiki?"
Byakuya halted mid-step, his gaze flickering momentarily toward Su Li, lips parting just enough to suggest a response, though none came, and in that silence lingered all the scorn and judgment he chose not to verbalize.
Su Li, unbothered by the lack of a reply, smirked slightly from behind his teacup, knowing full well that Byakuya wouldn't risk looking petty by lashing out verbally; baiting nobles with veiled casualness was an art Su Li had long perfected, and Byakuya, bound by the strict decorum of his station, had no elegant way out of the trap.
Redirecting his gaze to Renji with the precision of a blade drawn, Byakuya finally spoke again with finality in his voice: "Walk."
Renji lowered his head in a formal bow, the shame bleeding from every inch of his face, his relief at being spared public chastisement clearly visible in his every movement as he fell into step behind his captain.
Just as they reached the threshold, Su Li, voice light with amusement, called after them, "Let's share tea next time, Captain Kuchiki," knowing the invitation would provoke more than it soothed.
Byakuya paused, his head turning just enough to cast a cold glance back over his shoulder, his voice as composed as it was pointed when he responded, "No tea. But if the opportunity arises, I would like a match."
A challenge, wrapped in noble restraint and pointed etiquette, landed clearly between them, and Su Li raised one brow, amused at the level of formality that pride demanded over something as trivial as conversation.
"Anytime," Su Li answered, voice calm, expression unreadable, hiding the flicker of anticipation beneath his smile.
Byakuya held his gaze for a heartbeat longer, then exited without another word, his lieutenant following silently behind him, while Omaeda—who had hovered awkwardly through the exchange—scrambled to clear their path with an overly theatrical bow, mumbling praise and apology in the same breath as though his life depended on it.
When the Sixth Division figures disappeared from view, Omaeda released a dramatic sigh and blurted, "Dear gods… Captain Kuchiki's Reiatsu is terrifying," his posture collapsing now that the noble pressure had receded.
Su Li arched an eyebrow, setting down his empty teacup with a light clink as he asked dryly, "Mine isn't?"
Omaeda's reaction was immediate, laced with panic and awkward cheer as he blurted, "Yours is different—radiant, almost! You feel more like a… a refreshing drink, really. Bright! Uplifting! Very, uh… drinkable?"
Leaning forward slightly, Su Li narrowed his gaze and pressed, "What kind of drink, exactly?"
With an almost pitiful burst of enthusiasm, Omaeda declared, "Green tea!"
A sharp thwack rang out as Su Li's now-empty teacup struck his subordinate's forehead, the flick of his wrist casual, his expression unimpressed.
"That wasn't a compliment," Su Li muttered, watching the cup clatter to the floor.
Rubbing his head and wincing, Omaeda groaned, "I know I was wrong, Captain—I don't even know how I was wrong, but I definitely know I was."
—
Later that night, under the weight of moonlight, a Senkaimon opened without sound, its glow dim and cold as three shadows stepped from the realm between worlds. Byakuya walked at the front, posture rigid, his features carved in stone, not a flicker of emotion betraying the thoughts beneath. Renji followed beside him, each step heavy with guilt, his eyes downcast, his breath tight. Between them walked Rukia Kuchiki, her figure diminished, her spiritual presence faint and brittle, her eyes hollow, and her every movement slow and drained as though bearing a punishment already enacted.
Draped in a black cloak, Su Li stood atop a distant rooftop, arms crossed, watching the trio in silence as they passed beneath the starlit sky. A quiet chuckle stirred in his throat, though it never reached his lips—this sorrowful procession had gone exactly as expected, and even without hearing their conversation, he could feel the weight of it in their steps. Byakuya had done what he believed necessary, and Renji, bound by both duty and guilt, could only watch helplessly.
From the timeline alone, it was clear that Ichigo and Ishida had already made their attempt to resist, only to be effortlessly repelled. Urahara had intervened, no doubt dragging them to safety, and now, hidden within his underground chambers, he would begin the accelerated training they'd need to survive what was coming. The countdown had begun, and within a month, the Soul Society would tremble beneath an invasion it never expected.
Su Li, already playing his role behind the veil, knew this chapter of the tale would soon belong to him. With Rukia now in the Repentance Cell, Aizen's next phase would begin.
Smiling faintly beneath his cloak, Su Li turned from the edge of the rooftop and vanished into shadow.
—
The next morning, Su Li strolled into the Second Division barracks with a relaxed whistle on his lips, appearing casual, unconcerned, and utterly at odds with the shock his presence stirred among his subordinates. Whispers rose like wind rustling through leaves—this was the second day in a row their captain had shown up, a miracle in itself, and the implication that he might actually be returning to work spread through the ranks like wildfire.
A mix of curiosity, disbelief, and hope painted the faces of every passing Shinigami as they greeted him.
"Good morning, Captain Su Li."
"Morning, sir…"
Returning each greeting with his usual disarming smile, Su Li continued down the corridor, but the building anticipation was shattered by a sudden surge in spiritual pressure that rolled through the barracks like thunder cracking through clear skies.
The sky itself seemed to shimmer under the weight of it.
Su Li froze.
A voice, formal and composed, echoed overhead, amplified by the authority of the First Division.
"This is First Division Vice-Captain ChĹŤjirĹŤ Sasakibe. By order of the Central 46, I now issue the following ruling to all members of the Gotei 13."
All motion ceased. Conversations died. Eyes turned upward.
"Two months ago, Rukia Kuchiki of the Thirteenth Division was dispatched to the world of the living on a soul burial assignment. During the mission, she sustained injuries from a Hollow and subsequently transferred her spiritual powers to a human—an act in direct violation of Soul Society law. She then concealed her actions by inhabiting a gigai and avoiding recall."
A wave of gasps rippled through the barracks. Shock and disbelief spread like wildfire.
"These actions have been deemed a severe breach of duty and spiritual law. Following careful deliberation, the Central 46 has passed the following sentence:
First, the destruction of her gigai and immediate detainment in the Repentance Cell.
Second, in thirty days' time, Rukia Kuchiki will be executed beneath the SĹŤkyoku."
The oppressive Reiatsu slowly faded, but the weight of the declaration remained, thick and heavy in the air, clinging to every breath, every heartbeat, every whispered thought.
The word death, though singular, carried a finality that thundered louder than any decree, reverberating across the Seireitei like a tolling bell that refused to fade.
As the silence settled, countless eyes, wide with disbelief and dread, turned toward the Repentance Cell, that stark white tower looming against the horizon like a grave marker for the living.
Su Li stood motionless, his expression unreadable and gaze unwavering, fixed solely on the distant symbol of judgment as if measuring the weight of inevitability itself.
He had long understood how this would unfold, the threads having already begun weaving themselves far before anyone noticed, but now the entire Soul Society stood in possession of the truth they could no longer ignore.
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