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"This guy…"
A flicker of thought crossed Moyu's eyes. "Still scheming, even now?" Judging from Ichigo's changes, Urahara Kisuke was clearly still hiding layers of secrets. Yet it was just as clear he had no intention of sharing them.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
Moyu let the thought go. Instead of wasting energy chasing Urahara's calculations, it was better to prepare for what came next. Once Seireitei recovered from the upheaval, Yamamoto Genryūsai would inevitably demand answers. Moyu's actions during the Aizen incident would be questioned. He would have to craft a suitable explanation, something that would allow the Head Captain to step down with dignity.
---
Three days later, Moyu walked side by side with Hirako Shinji toward the First Division barracks. Shinji, who had once confronted Aizen only to fall victim to Kyōka Suigetsu without a chance to resist, still bore the memory of that helpless defeat. Run through the chest, his survival had been owed to Rangiku's timely Kaidō. Without her, his ashes would already have been scattered.
Though captain's meetings typically permitted only captains, the Hell Butterfly's message had specified Shinji's presence. It was no coincidence. Yamamoto clearly intended to restore him to his old post. In this crisis Shinji had proven his loyalty, and his prior service as captain made him a natural candidate. Most likely, he would once again assume command of the Fifth Division.
Moyu's thoughts moved further. The Third and Ninth were also vacant. Hitsugaya Tōshirō had already achieved Bankai. If Yamamoto willed it, the boy might soon bear a captain's haori, even if the burden was heavy. Moyu shook his head faintly. Poor Rangiku—her duties would only double. Yet he felt no guilt at the thought.
---
The moonlight slanted over Seireitei. Wounded soldiers, wrapped in bandages, patrolled the streets, their silhouettes cutting a quiet but tense rhythm into the night. After Aizen's rebellion, the air in the Court of Pure Souls had shifted; suspicion lingered like a shadow that would not soon fade.
"Strange, isn't it?" Shinji's voice broke the silence.
Moyu turned his head slightly.
With his trademark foxlike grin, Shinji spoke. "Not long ago I was branded a traitor, hunted as a Hollow Shinigami. Now I'm walking back into the First Division as if nothing happened. A captain again, just like that." Hands behind his head, he tilted his gaze upward, smile easy but eyes weighted. "Feels like I've slipped back into an old life."
But Moyu could see the truth beneath the grin. The past could not be restored. Hollowfication was irreversible, its damage carved deep into the soul. Trust once shattered could never be mended completely. Not every Visored would return to Soul Society. That was reality.
"Have you decided which squad you'll take?" Moyu asked evenly.
Shinji blinked, then smirked. "Haven't really thought it through. But most likely the Fifth. Where you fall, you get back up. And besides, I'm curious to see what Aizen did to the division while I was gone."
At that, Moyu's brow twitched. The Fifth Division was still under the care of Hinamori Momo. For Shinji's sake, he hoped the transition would be smooth.
They spoke idly as their steps carried them forward. Before long, they reached the First Division barracks.
---
Inside the captain's chamber, all were assembled—save Zaraki Kenpachi, still recovering in the Fourth Division. Even Kuchiki Byakuya had forced himself to attend despite his injuries. His body was bound in thick bandages, the sharp fragrance of medicine lingering from beneath his captain's cloak. His face, too, bore strips of white cloth, shattering the composed image he always maintained.
Moyu paused, taken aback, then frowned and asked, "In that condition, why not request leave?"
Byakuya glanced at him coolly. "The Head Captain may make unbalanced decisions. He will consider opposing counsel from among us. My presence matters."
Only then did Moyu understand—Byakuya's concern was not for duty, but for him. From the beginning, his brother had been shielding him.
"Still… are you certain you should even be here like this?" Moyu pressed.
"No problem." Byakuya's reply was flat, his voice carrying its usual composure. "Captain Unohana has already treated me."
But Unohana, standing silently nearby, spoke with soft ruthlessness. "I'm sorry, Moyu. Captain Kuchiki insisted on coming. He even attempted to sneak away from his ward. In the end, I had no choice but to allow it."
Moyu widened his eyes, half exasperated, half ready to retort—but before he could, a deep, commanding thud echoed through the chamber.
Yamamoto Genryūsai's cane struck the floor. His aged eyes opened, sharp as flame, and his voice rolled across the room with the weight of centuries.
"Since all are gathered, this council begins."
"You were informed of today's purpose by Chōjirō. It concerns the rebellion of Aizen and his allies, the incursion of the Ryoka, and…" His tone sharpened, each word carrying iron.
"…the Tenth Division's interruption of the execution of Kuchiki Moyu, which resulted in damage to the Sōkyoku Hill."
The air within the chamber grew cold and heavy.
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