"—Anti-Demon, Counter-Phase."
In the Sanctum of the Seijōtō, the private facility of the Central 46, abandoned by the traitor Sōsuke Aizen. Toshiro Hitsugaya, who had been imprisoned by a Kidō spell, finally managed to escape with the help of his colleague, Retsu Unohana.
"...Thank you, Captain Unohana."
"That was a Rikujōkōrō of frightening intensity. Sōsuke Aizen... to think he was such a master of the art..."
Unohana frowned at the sensation of the release spell. For even this veteran captain, about whom many fearsome rumors were whispered, to struggle with it spoke of an extraordinary level of power. Toshiro was forced to acknowledge the immense scale of his enemy, but his heart was consumed only by the passion of his desperation.
"Damn it, Hinamori is with them...! That bastard Aizen... where the hell did he go!?"
"I have Isane searching for him."
Unohana glanced at her vice-captain. After a moment of chanting the incantation for "Shikakui," Isane Kotetsu, having located the enemy's spiritual pressure, spoke, her voice trembling.
"He is... at Sōkyoku Hill..."
"!"
Sōkyoku. The contents of that forged letter inevitably came to mind. The fact that she was caught up in the middle of it all stripped the boy of his last shred of composure.
"Hinamori...!"
"! Wait, Captain Hitsugaya—"
Deaf to Unohana's cry from behind him, Toshiro smashed through the high ceiling of the Sanctum with the wings of Daiguren Hyōrinmaru and soared through the skies of the Seireitei with desperate speed.
Driving his frantic flight was a single promise he had made to his precious childhood friend.
"I have to protect her... I will protect her...!"
Memories of the academy flashed through his mind.
The first training exercise in the World of the Living, when they were attacked by a giant Hollow. The moment when he, who had always been the one protected, had protected her for the first time. In front of a large crowd, carried away by the excitement of the moment, he had said some rather embarrassing things and been teased about it for a long time.
But he had not a single regret. He had never once forgotten the feelings of that day, and he had dedicated himself to his training for the sole purpose of protecting her. That was what Hyōrinmaru was for.
That was what Daiguren Hyōrinmaru was for.
"...Hinamori!"
He found her.
At the summit of Sōkyoku Hill. Toshiro rocketed past the crowd of figures standing there without a second glance.
He didn't care about the situation. As his vision blurred into streaks of light like a meteor, his eyes, fixed on a single point, unerringly guided his hands toward his hope.
And then...
"Give her back—SŌSUKE AIZENNN!!"
Reclaiming the warmth of the beloved girl, Toshiro held her in his arms with all his might.
***
"—Oh my, it seems she's been taken back."
The man's calm voice melted into the silence of Sōkyoku Hill.
"...Looks like that was your last move."
"If you move, I'll take your head...!"
Two women flanked the man.
One was the Captain of Squad 2 and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukidō, Suì-Fēng, holding her Zanpakutō to the man's throat. The other, an unfamiliar, dark-skinned woman in the uniform of the Punishment Force, was using Hakuda to seal his Zanpakutō.
But both were focusing their immense, captain-class spiritual pressures, leaving no room for carelessness as they held the man—Sōsuke Aizen—in check.
"My apologies. The Captain of Squad 10 was so desperate, I couldn't help but show him a little mercy."
"Don't worry about it, Gin. It was merely for entertainment."
Aizen and his two accomplices, Gin Ichimaru and Kaname Tōsen, who were also being held at bay, exchanged words nonchalantly, unconcerned with their own predicament. Rangiku Matsumoto had her Zanpakutō at Gin's neck.
"Tch, Captain! Is Hinamori..."
"She's all right, Matsumoto, she's still breathing...!"
Toshiro Hitsugaya, having rescued the abducted Momo Hinamori, held her tightly as he checked her wounds.
A single stab wound in her side, quite deep. But she must have dodged at the last second; her internal organs seemed to have been spared.
"...The hostage has been recovered. You have nowhere to run. It's over, Aizen."
The dark-skinned woman urged Aizen to surrender.
Besides Suì-Fēng and the others, his fellow captains, Jūshirō Ukitake and Shunsui Kyōraku, and even the Captain-Commander Yamamoto himself had deigned to come, surrounding Aizen's faction. Among them, he could also see his friends, Kūkaku Shiba and Jidanbō.
The situation was their checkmate. Toshiro felt the reassuring spiritual pressure of his powerful allies and breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have protected Hinamori.
But.
"—Run?"
It happened in an instant.
In the blink of an eye, the four Soul Reapers standing closest to Aizen suddenly collapsed, spewing blood.
"Wh—!?"
The boy cried out in shock, along with Ukitake and the others behind him.
Suì-Fēng, Kūkaku, Jidanbō, and the dark-skinned woman. All of them had fallen, not a speck of their previously raging fighting spirit remaining. The process had been completely invisible; only the utterly insane result was left in their vision.
"How strange you are, Yoruichi Shihōin. Why on earth would I need to run from the likes of you?"
The man's quiet voice reached his ears. Toshiro turned his gaze to the speaker and saw him standing there, his drawn Zanpakutō dripping with blood. It was Sōsuke Aizen, exuding an incredibly sharp and immense spiritual pressure.
The situation, his words, his spiritual pressure—the tide of battle had turned in an instant.
"What... did you say..."
"This is... Aizen's true power...!?"
Impossible, what is this? What is this difference in power? Stunned by the turn of events, all the allies could do was stare blankly.
Two captain-class Soul Reapers had been killed in an instant, without even seeing the flash of his blade. He glanced around and saw Renji Abarai, barely breathing, and the orange-haired invader, as well as his fellow captain, Sajin Komamura, also down. Had they, too, been defeated in a single blow...?
As Toshiro trembled at the thought, the monster who had created this hellish scene spoke to him.
"It seems things have finally quieted down. Shall we reminisce a little, Hitsugaya?"
"...!"
"This was before you came to the Soul Society."
Though he wondered what this was all about, Aizen began to trace his own memories, as if fondly recalling the past.
"...It was about one hundred and fifty years ago. I was searching the Rukongai for subjects for my Hollowfication research when I discovered a peculiar soul—a rare talent whose spiritual pressure had grown from nothing to the equivalent of a high-ranking seated officer in just one year."
Toshiro had no intention of listening, but he, along with Ukitake and the others, found himself drawn in by the man's commanding presence, even as a part of him sensed that this was a story they should not hear.
"This soul was a young child, new to the Soul Society, who knew nothing of the world. But this child was a prodigy who had grasped the rudiments of Kidō on their own and had devised a unique method of training their spiritual power."
"...What?"
A stir went through the crowd, now captivated by Aizen's narrative. One of them, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, voiced his disbelief.
"...What nonsense are you spouting, Sōsuke Aizen? Spiritual pressure is the very essence of a spiritual body. There is no other way for a Soul Reaper to train their spiritual power than to hone their skills in Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō."
"Ah, I used to think so too, Captain-Commander Yamamoto."
"...What did you say?"
The man denied the old captain's rebuttal with a proud smile.
"The method was truly a stroke of genius. It was not to train one's spiritual power, physical strength, and stamina externally through the practice of Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō, as we Soul Reapers do, but to strengthen one's spiritual power from within by using Kidō on one's own soul."
"On one's own soul...?"
The man smiled at the confused faces.
"Do you not understand? This child did not use the indirect and inefficient methods of daily Zazen and Kidō practice, but attempted to directly train the spiritual circulatory system within the soul by applying a load to the very organs that govern a soul's spiritual power—the Saketsu and the Hakusui."
"!?"
The Soul Reapers who understood gasped in unison. The idea was not incomprehensible. But how many madmen who would actually attempt such a thing had there been in the long history of the Soul Society?
"Impossible... that is... that is equivalent to forcefully raising one's blood pressure by massive transfusion to put a strain on the heart...! The organs would soon rupture or fail. One misstep, and you would die completely as a Soul Reaper."
"Ah, in fact, there were several times when I temporarily lost the use of my spiritual power."
"!!?"
They were speechless.
What had this man just said? Had he taken the ravings of some unknown child, not even a sound theory, and tested the results on his own body?
The genius who had orchestrated a conspiracy of this scale against the Soul Society, had taken the ramblings of a mere child...
"A talent for Kidō, and courage. There is a special one who achieved results with those alone. To give up and declare it impossible would be to admit defeat to that child."
"...You're insane. Are you not afraid...?"
The arch-criminal scoffed at Ukitake's question.
"I desired that emotion. And it is that fear, which stimulates the survival instinct of the individual, that brings about evolution in a stagnant soul. The days spent on the brink of death as a Soul Reaper, where everything I had built could be reduced to nothing in an instant, were truly nourishing."
With that, Aizen looked down at the two women lying at his feet and narrowed his eyes in boredom.
"I had intended to test the results of these fifty years on Kenpachi Zaraki, not on flies like you."
Aizen shook his head slightly, muttering, "That man is truly incorrigible."
And then, the man slowly turned to face Toshiro.
"—Now, this is where the real story begins, Captain Hitsugaya."
"...!"
The subtle change in his intonation was so terrifying that Toshiro instinctively took a step back.
Why is he calling me out by name? It couldn't be a jab at him, another prodigy. It was something more evil, more terrifying...
"I met that prodigy in person fifty years ago. They produced such wonderful results in a practical test using a swarm of Hollows that I decided to pay special attention to them thereafter."
"A swarm... of Hollows?"
A chill ran down his spine at Aizen's lyrical voice.
I can't listen to any more of this. Toshiro's instincts screamed at him to stop, but the overwhelming difference in power between them would not allow it.
Aizen continued.
The child, who had been aware of their own talent from an early age, had developed a technique to suppress their spiritual pressure on their own and had made tearful efforts to blend in with those around them. It was the dilemma of the strong, who recognized their own abnormality in society, and Aizen claimed to have given that lonely genius a stage on which to shine.
"She was capable, and an innocent child. She was under the illusion that everything I said was right, and she dirtied her hands without knowing that her evil deeds were evil. She created followers by spreading pure goodwill in an attempt to befriend everyone, she had her respected senior killed by his own subordinate for the sake of her friend's growth, and she had her superior dragged from his seat for the sake of her precious family. All the while, her heart ached, but she blindly believed my words that it was the right thing to do."
Aizen closed his eyes, humming as if recalling the scene, "She was truly easy to handle."
...Stop it. Don't be ridiculous. What kind of delusion is this?
"However, it seems that parting ways with the Soul Society was a major event even for her. It is my own failing that I had to discipline her a little roughly."
"...Wait."
"The human heart is a difficult thing indeed. The performance I had prepared for this day was ruined by her agitation. Gin, who did his best to support her—"
"I said, wait!!"
A scream.
It was a voice larger, and more pained, than he had ever imagined he could produce.
"Tch, I've been listening to you blabbering on and on about things that don't make any sense...! Cut the crap, you bastard!"
Toshiro desperately shouted, trying to drive out the man's nonsense that was invading the deepest corners of his heart.
What is he talking about? It can't be true.
That would mean... that would mean...
"Oh, you still don't understand? Or do you wish to avert your eyes from the inconvenient truth and steep yourself in the same old illusion for even a second longer?"
"—!"
Aizen's quiet words pierced the boy's chest. They were admonishing, soothing. But contrary to his gentle tone, the man's face was graced by a thin-lipped smile, drawn in a sharp arc.
Don't say it. Don't say what comes next.
But Toshiro's prayers were in vain...
"...Come now, you've had your farewell with your precious childhood friend. Come back to my side."
And then, the man presented the cruel reality, as if savoring it from the bottom of his heart.
"—Momo—"
Silence dominated Sōkyoku Hill.
The rustling wind, the miscellaneous sounds of the Seireitei, the movements of the many captain-class Soul Reapers gathered there. As if the world itself had frozen over, not a single sound, not even the rustle of clothing, could be heard. Everyone stood frozen, the name ringing in their ears.
"Hina... mori...?"
Whose voice was that? His colleague Renji, his classmate Rukia, his friend Rangiku, his senior Hisagi, his reading companion Nanao, the head of the Soul Reapers Association Suì-Fēng, his Kidō master Kūkaku...
Or perhaps it was the empty hope he himself had muttered in his daze.
—No.
It can't be. It can't possibly be true. The boy desperately denied it.
She's an idiot, and clueless, and clumsy, and pathetic, and a sore loser, but she's more innocent and cheerful and pure and kind than anyone, and she's the noblest Soul Reaper of all, who knocked on the gates of the academy as a child with the mission of the powerful in her heart.
She was the one who taught Toshiro the warmth of human connection, the path to avoid harming his grandmother with his spiritual power, the frustration of being protected, the pride of protecting, and—in his world that had been nothing more than a small, drafty house, she was the one who showed him the vastness of the world outside. She was the most wonderful childhood friend of all.
The person of that name, the girl in his arms, was the most precious person in Toshiro Hitsugaya's world.
And yet...
"—The crest of turbidity, seeping out..."
A whisper... reached the boy's ears.
A lovely voice, more beloved, more cherished, more heart-stirring than any other.
"—The vessel of arrogant madness..."
The wind blew. As if drawn by it, Toshiro turned his head to the source of the voice, coming from his chest.
Her face, which he was always looking up at, was hidden by her lustrous bangs, and he could not see it.
"—Boiling up... denying... benumbing... flickering... disrupting sleep..."
His body was heavy. The wind was strong. The girl in his arms was taking on a dark glow that did not suit her.
Stop it, get away, don't defile her with that color.
Toshiro desperately waved his free left arm, trying to sweep away the horrifying black light seeping from her.
"—The crawling queen of iron, the eternally self-destructing doll of mud..."
The spiritual power he had touched, felt, and been familiar with so many times.
And yet, that lovely crimson peach color was stained a deep black, and the spiritual pressure that usually wrapped around him like a comforting blanket was now crushing Toshiro with the immense pressure of the deep sea.
Even the greatest prodigy of his generation, who had climbed to the rank of Gotei 13 captain at the youngest age.
"—Unite, repel..."
The incantation continued, and the black spiritual power rose, the raging gale becoming a tornado.
"Tch, this is bad! Get away, Captain Hitsugaya!"
"...!?"
The shout from Ukitake in the distance pierced his ears, and the boy snapped back to his senses.
And then, his childhood friend, a vortex of darkness floating in her palm, raised her face...
"—Fill the earth..."
A single tear traced a path down her cheek.
"—And know your own powerlessness..."
—Hadō #90. Kurohitsugi—
And so, Toshiro Hitsugaya, with the final sensation of the precious warmth he had been holding slipping from his arms, was swallowed by a bottomless darkness.
—I'm sorry... Toshiro...
Into a coffin named Despair, where a faint, fading voice echoed.
***
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