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Shiba Isshin stood with arms folded, nodding slowly as he listened, his gaze unwavering and heavy with thought as the implications settled into place.
"So that's the situation," he murmured, his voice quiet but grounded in growing resolve.
Across from him, Moyu narrowed his eyes, though his focus rested not on Isshin, but on the man who stood beside him—Urahara Kisuke, whose eyes, sharp beneath the brim of his green-striped hat, gave away the urgency behind his usually calm demeanor.
"The opposite of a Hollow's soul—when correctly harnessed—can suppress the erosion of spiritual boundaries," Kisuke explained, his tone clipped yet controlled as if rehearsed countless times in his mind before being voiced aloud. "Using Quincy spirit particles and human souls, I've been developing a vaccine that, when injected into a Shinigami exposed to Hollow contamination, halts the transformation process at the molecular level."
His gaze shifted toward Isshin then, steady and direct, the weight of his next words pressing forward with undeniable finality. "In short, I can save Yūka's soul—but only if we act immediately. Her Hollowfication has advanced beyond any point of stasis. She needs an opposite force inside her now, and only you, Isshin, possess the spiritual polarity stable enough to serve as that anchor."
Isshin's brow furrowed slightly as Kisuke continued, no longer filtering the reality behind the theory.
"If you want to remain human and protect her, you'll have to abandon your existence as a Shinigami completely. You won't just lose your access to spiritual power—you'll be cut off from Soul Society, unable to ever return, forced to live in a world that doesn't belong to you, without a weapon, without rank, without the name you once carried as a captain. But in doing so, you'll become the sole thing tethering her soul to stability."
Isshin nodded slowly as the consequences unraveled in his mind like a series of falling dominos—until Moyu stepped closer, his voice low and laced with caution.
"Do you really understand what that means?"
Isshin blinked and offered a half-shrug, the weight of the decision failing to shift the inherent simplicity with which he viewed duty.
"I don't get the science, if that's what you're asking. All I know is—if there's something I can do to repay what was given to me, you'd better tell me now, because I'm doing it."
He straightened his posture then, shedding ambiguity, his voice cutting through hesitation with absolute conviction. "A man settles his debts. That's how I was raised. That's how I lead. No matter the cost."
Kisuke, momentarily silent, finally lowered his gaze and gave the faintest nod of acknowledgment. "Then we move now. From this moment forward, you'll remain at her side. There'll be no turning back."
Isshin didn't flinch, nor did he waver. "I already said I'd do it. I don't need a second invitation. If protecting her means sacrificing everything I've built, then I consider that the easiest decision I've ever made."
Kisuke raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching at the bluntness of the reply. "You're sure this isn't something you'll regret?"
Isshin's answer came without pause, his voice sharp and unforgiving. "Of course I'll regret it. There are a hundred things I'll miss—my squad, my brothers, my name, even the smell of the Rukongai air—but none of it matters when weighed against the life of someone who saved mine. Nostalgia doesn't earn forgiveness. Action does."
The silence between them was brief, pierced only by Kisuke's quiet nod as he turned. "Then follow me."
There was nothing more for Moyu to say. He watched without interference as Kisuke began the fusion, drawing intricate symbols of binding across the floor while crafting an artificial shell to house the fractured remains of Isshin's soul. The process required precision—synchronizing Isshin's spiritual frequency with Eme Yūka's deteriorating soul, using Quincy particles as a stabilizer and conduit—and Kisuke's focus became absolute, his usual levity buried beneath layers of surgical intent.
"A true Shiba repays debts without hesitation," Moyu murmured, more to himself than to anyone in the room.
Kisuke didn't respond, his eyes locked on the fluctuating readings of the spiritual monitor, where fragments of souls flickered and pulsed in rhythmic fusion.
"If we're lucky, it'll hold," he muttered finally.
Moyu turned to him with a sharper edge. "You weren't certain?"
Kisuke didn't look away from the monitor, his voice clipped. "I've worked with Hollow-Shinigami hybrids. I've tested soul fusion across dozens of human subjects. But bringing Quincy particles into the equation—merging all three—was uncharted territory. If Isshin's soul hadn't been this unusually stable, I wouldn't have dared to attempt it."
Moyu exhaled, unsurprised, and let the truth hang between them. "Then it was a bluff. Just enough certainty to keep Isshin walking forward."
Moments later, the procedure concluded. The artificial vessel pulsed once, then stilled. Isshin stirred slightly, while Yūka's vitals stabilized for the first time in days.
"It's done," Kisuke said, exhaustion lining his voice. "The Hollowfication has been entirely suppressed."
Isshin exhaled slowly, unaware of how long he'd been holding the breath. "That's... genuinely good news."
With the work complete and the room settling into silence, Moyu turned, preparing to leave.
"My duty here is finished. I'm returning to Soul Society. The disappearance of a captain's reiatsu has already sparked too many questions."
But just as he turned to the Senkaimon, Isshin's voice stopped him.
"Moyu—before you go, let me ask something."
The Third Seat paused, not turning around.
"Please... look after the Tenth Division. It's no longer mine, but someone has to keep it from falling apart."
Isshin bowed his head slightly, the weight of his choice reflected in his tone. "You're one of the few I still trust within the Gotei 13. And someone needs to hold the line for the Shiba name."
Moyu remained still for a moment, then responded with even calm. "If I'm able, I'll keep them steady. Stabilizing the division shouldn't be too difficult."
"And my family," Isshin added after a pause. "The Shiba Clan—watch over them too."
Moyu's expression shifted faintly, though his tone didn't. "You realize that your disappearance could cost them their noble status. The Central 46 won't overlook this."
Isshin's face darkened as the truth struck deeper than he expected, but his smile, however faint, remained. "Kaien and the others will understand. The Shiba don't cling to names—we protect people. That's our code. That's what matters."
In the days that followed, Moyu passed through the Senkaimon into the Kuchiki estate, thoughts heavy and swirling with questions that had no clear answers.
Isshin had discarded everything—his title, his power, his very future—for the life of someone who had saved him once. A debt, repaid not with words or promises, but with the complete surrender of who he was.
And perhaps that—more than anything—was what made Isshin Shiba different.
But the echoes of that choice did not remain still. In Seireitei, whispers spread like wildfire, reports grew in detail and volume, and speculation turned quickly into suspicion.
"You haven't heard? The Captain of the Tenth Division vanished—right in the World of the Living!"
"I heard he faced off against a Menos Grande and a Quincy. No trace of him was ever found."
The official report, as dry as it was grim, confirmed it: Shiba Isshin's spiritual signature had vanished following a high-level engagement. Traces of the enemy matched a Menos Grande-class Hollow... and a Quincy.
Back at the Tenth Division barracks, the air turned to ash. Though Isshin had always carried a reputation for being irreverent and free-spirited, the depth of his leadership left behind an absence more devastating than any Hollow wound.
At the next Captain's Meeting, the gravity of the event swallowed the room.
Yamamoto Genryūsai stood at the center, gavel in hand, his voice a low thunder. "The findings of the investigation. Report them."
Kurotsuchi Mayuri stepped forward, his words detached and clinical, lacking empathy by design.
"Three days ago, at 16:32, a reiatsu clash exceeding the limits of a Level 100 encounter was detected in Sector 22-33 of the World of the Living. The signatures confirmed the presence of Captain Isshin, a Menos Grande, and a Quincy-class entity. All traces ceased three hours later."
He let the silence hang before delivering his own hypothesis. "Given the data, the most probable conclusion is total mutual annihilation."
Mayuri spread his arms, mock solemnity tainting his words. "Our Captain of the Tenth Division sacrificed his life to maintain the balance between worlds. We should honor the loss."
But no applause followed. Only silence.
"Tch. So dull," he muttered.
Kyoraku Shunsui adjusted his hat and broke the stillness. "That conclusion's premature. We haven't confirmed a body."
Mayuri's gaze sharpened. "Is the flamboyant peacemaker questioning science now?"
Before escalation could ensue, Unohana Retsu's voice, gentle yet absolute, cut cleanly through the tension.
"Captain Isshin was no ordinary opponent. Killing him would not be so simple."
The air shifted visibly, her words carrying a weight that silenced even Mayuri. Those familiar with her history knew that her assessments came not from theory but personal knowledge earned on blood-soaked battlefields.
Yamamoto struck his cane once, the sound echoing with authority.
"Captain Shiba remains classified as missing. But Gotei cannot function without stability. The Tenth Division requires leadership."
"Are there any recommendations?"
For a moment, none spoke—until a calm, proud voice emerged.
"I do," said Kuchiki Byakuya. "I nominate Third Seat Moyu of the Fourth Division."
Heads turned. The name surprised no one.
"He has defeated a Vasto Lorde-class Hollow without releasing Bankai. His strength is evident."
Unohana's rare smile flickered. "He's wasted in the Third Seat."
Then came another voice—smooth, warm, and infinitely dangerous.
"Well now," said Aizen Sōsuke, "it seems Moyu's responsibilities are indeed growing."
Yamamoto's eyes bored into Byakuya. "You stand by your recommendation?"
Byakuya didn't blink. "I do."
"Then it is settled," the old man said, rising to his full, commanding presence.
"The Captain's Test will commence tomorrow."
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