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The next morning, Shiraha rose quietly and slipped into the black haori of the Seventh Division, its feathered hem fluttering lightly with each step. On his head, he wore the silver star-shaped hair ornament—Hoshibari—an unmistakable symbol of his rank and resolve as a captain of the Gotei 13. Crossing the threshold of the Kuchiki estate, he stepped into the courtyard and immediately activated his Observation Haki, extending his spiritual awareness outward until he caught the presence of those waiting just beyond the gate.
As expected, a group had assembled. Soi Fon stood at the front, her expression unreadable, flanked by members of the stealth force whose Reiatsu was expertly masked, fluid and agile, ready for motion at any time. Behind her stood Rukia, Komamura Sajin, and—unexpectedly—Captain Jūshirō Ukitake, the sickly yet noble captain whose presence here spoke volumes.
Rukia rushed forward the moment she saw him. "Big Brother!" she cried, her face drawn with unspoken sorrow.
Shiraha responded with a warm chuckle and reached out to ruffle her hair. "What's with that look, Rukia? You act like I'm being exiled. I'm only being stationed in the Human World for ten years."
"I know," she murmured, voice soft but certain. "But I also know you won't kill the prisoners."
Her unwavering belief brought a faint smile to Shiraha's lips. Turning to the others, he addressed them with a touch of surprise, "Captain Ukitake, Vice-Captain Komamura... you didn't have to come all this way."
Ukitake gave a polite cough and covered his mouth, his voice light but faintly strained. "Ahem... Komamura and I heard you were departing today. We thought you deserved a proper sendoff. As for Shunsui... well, he drank too much last night. I'm afraid he's still sleeping it off. He asked me to apologize in his stead."
"I appreciate it, really," Shiraha said with genuine gratitude, then hesitated before asking, "But Captain Ukitake... is your condition stable? Are you really well enough to be here?"
He already knew the truth. The Ukitake clan had been cursed with a hereditary illness for generations, a condition that afflicted every male born into the line. Ukitake had fallen ill at the age of three—his hair turning snow-white as his body weakened. When death loomed near, his family had turned to the shrine of the One-Eyed God—an ancient entity formed from the Soul King's severed left arm. In exchange for his lungs, Ukitake had been granted divine strength, becoming the vessel for the Soul King's will, though at the cost of a lifetime of suffering.
"It's nothing new," Ukitake said with a tired smile. "Just the usual."
Shiraha nodded, then turned to Komamura with quiet authority. "Once I leave, I'm entrusting the Seventh Division to you."
Komamura straightened and responded firmly, "Rest assured, Captain Shiraha. I will uphold my duty."
Just then, Soi Fon, calm and collected as ever, stepped forward. "Captain Shiraha," she said, "it's almost time."
Shiraha nodded, preparing to depart, but before he could take a step forward, a sudden surge of wild spiritual pressure erupted from above. From the rooftop, Zaraki Kenpachi dropped down with reckless force, his Reiatsu sparking through the air like lightning. On his shoulder sat Yachiru Kusajishi, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Oi, Shiraha!" Kenpachi bellowed with a crooked grin. "You better stay alive out there! No one kills you but me! When you come back, we're finishing what we started!"
Shiraha didn't even flinch. He simply smiled, already expecting this encounter. Zaraki's wounds from their last battle had nearly healed, and if Shiraha hadn't been reassigned, Kenpachi would've already dragged him into a rematch.
"Hey, Xiao Yu," Yachiru said cheerfully, waving from his shoulder. "Thanks for making Kenny so happy! It's been ages since he found someone worth fighting!"
Shiraha tilted his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Kenpachi, you should really visit Captain Kyoraku. He's much stronger than me—trust me, he's the opponent you've been looking for."
Kenpachi's eyes lit up immediately.
"Yachiru. Let's go."
Without a second thought, he turned and strode off, heading straight for the Eighth Division barracks, where Shunsui still slept off his hangover.
"Goodbye, Kohane!" Yachiru called over her shoulder, laughing as they vanished from sight.
"Shiraha... was that wise?" Ukitake asked with mild concern. "You know how difficult it is to manage Zaraki."
Shiraha shrugged with a chuckle. "Don't worry. Kenpachi won't win. Shunsui hides his true strength beneath that drunken façade, but next to Yamamoto and Unohana, he's easily one of the most dangerous captains in the Gotei 13. Once he sobers up and finds out I sent Zaraki to him, he'll probably hate me forever."
Ukitake could only sigh, half amused, half exasperated. "You haven't changed a bit."
Together, the group walked to the Second Division's barracks, where the Senkaimon—the massive gate leading to the Human World—stood ready. Its towering frame shimmered with power, the spiritual energy humming softly along its edges.
"Captain Shiraha," Soi Fon said, motioning toward it, "this is the portal to the present world."
Shiraha turned, taking one last look at everyone who had come to see him off. "Thank you," he said with quiet finality. "All of you."
Drawing his staff-like ZanpakutĹŤ, he inserted it into the lock at the center of the gate and twisted it gently. The spiritual mechanism reacted instantly, opening the portal with a low hum as a blinding corridor of light stretched open before him. With no hesitation, Shiraha stepped into the passage and disappeared.
---
Karakura Town
Above the rooftops of Karakura, a brilliant slit opened across the sky as the Senkaimon slowly revealed itself. From within the swirling spiritual corridor, Shiraha emerged into the Human World. As his feet settled on air and the portal vanished behind him, he paused briefly, surveying the peaceful cityscape below.
"If I remember correctly," he murmured, "the Visored are hiding somewhere around here."
He recalled that Hirako Shinji and the other exiled Shinigami-turned-Visored had chosen Karakura Town as their refuge. But given their status, they had covered their tracks well, masking themselves behind multiple barriers and cloaking their Reiatsu to avoid being discovered by either Shinigami or Hollow.
Activating Observation Haki, Shiraha swept the area with his senses but found nothing—no traces, no spiritual fluctuations, no sign of the Visored.
"Tch... still in hiding. Figures," he muttered, then sighed. "Guess I'll visit Urahara Kisuke first."
Urahara had once helped the Visored escape the Soul Society. If anyone knew where they were now, it would be him. And considering Shiraha had no place to stay, the Urahara Shop was the most practical option.
In a flash of Shunpo, he vanished.
---
Urahara Shop – Karakura Town
In the open courtyard of the Urahara Shop, Kisuke sat cross-legged on a futon, casually fanning himself with his signature green-and-white striped paper fan. Across from him, Tsukabishi Tessai knelt in formal posture, carefully pouring tea into two steaming cups set on a small lacquered table between them.
Yoruichi, still in her feline form, lay sprawled nearby, her tail lazily flicking back and forth.
Just as Urahara lifted his teacup, he paused mid-motion. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Hm?"
Lowering the cup, he tilted his head and looked toward the sky. "That Reiatsu... so familiar."
At that exact moment, Yoruichi's ears perked up and her golden eyes opened. She rose slightly on all fours, gaze fixed on the heavens.
"Shiraha?" she said, voice soft but alert.
Urahara smiled faintly as he met her gaze.
"Brother Shiraha," he echoed.
From the distant sky above, a glow broke through the clouds—a spiritual signature unmistakable in its strength and presence.
Shiraha had arrived.
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