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A soft voice, serene yet commanding, drifted across the tension-choked air, halting all motion as heads turned instinctively toward its source—Unohana Retsu, who stood with quiet authority, her expression composed but her tone edged with urgency, and just behind her, Kotetsu Isane, vice-captain of the Fourth Division, followed with wide, uneasy eyes.
"Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Su Li—cease this immediately!" she called, her voice gentle but unmistakably firm, cutting through the charged atmosphere and bringing a momentary stillness that even spiritual pressure dared not disturb.
Hitsugaya's brows lifted slightly, voice edged with restrained confusion as he responded, "Captain Unohana..." but Unohana remained unfazed, stepping forward with calm certainty as she declared, "I believe Vice-Captain Hinamori is simply misguided. Captain Su Li is not Aizen's murderer."
The declaration hit like a gust of wind against a cracking wall, and immediately, Hinamori Momo's voice—shrill, trembling, and full of grief—broke from her throat as she thrashed violently in Tōshirō's arms, tears streaking her cheeks as she screamed, "But... but the suicide note has his name! He's the one—he killed Captain Aizen!"
Tōshirō gripped her tighter, struggling to restrain her as she spiraled out of control, his voice taut with tension as he urged, "Vice-Captain Hinamori, calm yourself! No one may act without clear proof!" but Unohana, her expression darkening with solemn weight, stepped forward once more and spoke with quiet gravity, "Even Aizen's suicide note might have been falsified."
Hinamori, unhearing and beyond reason, shouted louder as hysteria widened her eyes and desperation consumed her thoughts. "Impossible! That's Captain Aizen's handwriting! This bastard murdered him! Why are you all defending him?!"
Tōshirō's arms locked around her as her body writhed in panic, his composure cracking beneath the pressure, his voice bordering on a shout as he growled, "Get a hold of yourself, Hinamori!" but Unohana's brow furrowed, her tone sharpening into frost as she reminded all present, "Vice-Captain Hinamori, I repeat—until the investigation concludes, no one is guilty. To raise your weapon against a fellow officer without authorization is a serious breach of Gotei 13 law."
But Hinamori, far beyond listening, surged forward in a wild lunge for the fallen blade, her desperation eclipsing reason as she reached blindly for vengeance, unaware of everything around her.
Tōshirō's jaw clenched as he moved with trained precision, striking the base of her neck with the edge of his palm, freezing her body mid-motion as her eyes widened in shock before fluttering shut under the weight of unconsciousness.
"I'll take responsibility," Tōshirō said quietly, glancing toward Unohana, his voice low but unshakable. "She needs time to recover."
Unohana nodded slightly, her tone simple but resolute. "Then I leave her to you, Captain Hitsugaya."
Lifting Momo into his arms with surprising gentleness, Tōshirō turned away, though his gaze lingered on Su Li with unmistakable coldness, his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw betraying the accusations left unspoken—yet he said nothing.
Just as he began to walk off, Su Li's voice, lazy and relaxed as drifting mist, cut through the moment like a soft gust of wind. "Oh, wait—I almost forgot something."
Tōshirō halted instantly as Su Li raised one hand and flicked his fingers, releasing a small, glittering shard of ice that zipped through the air with the speed of a lightning strike and precision honed by years of mischief.
Tōshirō's pupils shrank in alarm as the shard cracked against the tip of his nose, exploding into a frosty burst with a sharp snap that left a red blush blooming across his face.
"You bastard!" he snarled as his spiritual pressure flared with fury, veins pulsing at his temple and his hands trembling slightly as he held Hinamori's unconscious body, his composure teetering on the brink.
Unohana's gaze darkened slightly, quiet reproach in her eyes as she observed Su Li with growing wariness—this man, always so casual, so harmless in appearance, and yet he chose now of all moments for petty retaliation.
Before anyone could speak further, a fluttering shape drifted into view—a Hell Butterfly, black and luminous, its obsidian wings shimmering with unnatural luster as it hovered in the charged air, drawing all attention to itself.
Unohana's eyes narrowed sharply. "...Central 46's Summoning Hell Butterfly?" she murmured as the others turned with equal parts confusion and unease, tension thickening by the second.
Central 46 rarely employed this method of communication, favoring secret missives, Executive Militia dispatches, or the First Division's official channels—so for them to use a Summoning Butterfly now could mean only one thing: this order bore extraordinary urgency.
The butterfly's wings pulsed softly with light as a cold, neutral voice emerged from its form, the tone devoid of emotion and yet heavy with finality.
"To all captains and vice-captains of the Gotei 13: this is an urgent decree from Central 46. A change has been made to the execution schedule of death-row inmate Rukia Kuchiki. The final execution will take place—thirteen hours from now."
The words struck like a freezing gust, and the weight of them settled over the group with oppressive finality.
Unohana's expression grew hard, and Tōshirō's grip visibly stiffened while even Su Li, normally half-lidded and disengaged, narrowed his eyes with sudden focus, the levity vanishing from his demeanor.
Such a decree was unprecedented; Central 46 had never once advanced an execution, especially not one involving the Sōkyoku, a spiritual weapon requiring layers of ceremonial preparation, energy calibration, and alignment with the execution altar's spiritual cycle—none of which could realistically be rushed.
Yet here they were: a thirteen-hour countdown, a reckless, impossible directive that reeked of subterfuge.
It could mean only one thing—Aizen had moved.
Su Li's thoughts sharpened as he pieced the puzzle together; Aizen had likely already infiltrated the Great Spirit Library beneath the Central Chambers, found the forbidden tomes, and uncovered the second method to extract the Hōgyoku from within Rukia's soul, rendering the need for a drawn-out ritual obsolete.
Originally, Aizen accelerated the execution by twenty-nine hours.
Now it had been slashed to thirteen.
The implications were crystal clear—he had the knowledge, and worse, he was nearly ready.
Su Li folded his arms slowly, his gaze growing colder as realization settled into certainty.
Before the weight of those thoughts could land fully, Tōshirō's voice rang out again, raw with fury and disbelief.
"Su Li! This was your scheme with Ichimaru Gin, wasn't it?! You planned this—accelerating the execution to unseal the Sōkyoku!"
His spiritual pressure erupted like a glacier shattering, his Zanpakutō trembling under the strain of his grip, and his rage barely masked by his icy glare.
Su Li rolled his eyes, exhaling long and slow. "Right. Because clearly I have nothing better to do than help Ichimaru Gin rush an execution."
"You're stalling us to buy him time!" Tōshirō roared, his knuckles bone-white around Hyōrinmaru's hilt as his voice echoed across the grounds. "This is your plan!"
"You still have time," Su Li replied flatly, his tone stripped of sarcasm now, serious and unwavering. "Go. Stop him."
Tōshirō faltered for a breath, the weight of that unexpected response making him pause—then, as resolve reformed behind his glare, he snapped back into motion. "You... you just wait! I will stop you!"
With those final words, he handed Hinamori's limp form to Unohana and vanished in a blink, his figure dissolving into the distance with single-minded intent.
Su Li exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, amusement and fatigue mingling in his expression.
He hadn't done anything.
He'd stepped outside for a little fresh air, put on a few harmless performances, cracked a few jokes—and somehow, that made him the villain.
He only wanted to make people laugh, to lighten the mood... yet no one seemed interested in laughing anymore.
Still, Aizen advancing the execution played right into his hands, the waiting now over, the era of background roles discarded; the curtain was finally rising.
Unohana's gaze lingered on him, thoughtful and still. "Captain Su Li... from here on—"
He gave a slight nod and a wink, his expression unfazed. "Let's do it right."
Her lips curved into a faint smile—quiet, serene, yet tinged with that rare flicker of amusement seldom seen behind her composed façade.
Then came the glare—sharp, burning, scathing as acid—cutting straight into Su Li's back.
It came from Sui-Feng, still locked in his arms, still seething.
And Su Li, ever irreverent, ever impossible—was still smiling.
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