Haiyan's Death
Boom.
A sound like thunder splitting the sky roared—yet it wasn't real.
It resounded only in the minds of those with weaker spiritual power, like Jinyan and Yinyan. Someone at Shiraishi's level didn't hear a sound at all. Instead, he felt it: a crushing, suffocating spiritual pressure flooding the room from the stairwell above. It weighed on the shoulders like a pair of millstones.
What's going on?
It wasn't just pressure. To call it mere intimidation felt wrong.
Shiraishi hesitated halfway up the stairs. Charging ahead now would only stir more trouble.
Just then, a door burst open. A boy rushed out, his voice sharp with panic:
"Big Sis, what's happening?"
The childish voice echoed through the passage.
"Don't come here, Ganju!" came the sharp reply.
And then—just as suddenly—the spiritual pressure receded.
But Ganju, stubborn as ever, didn't stop. A child's curiosity always outweighed an adult's warning. He ran upward.
Shiraishi debated stepping in but ultimately moved aside. This was a family matter.
Ganju climbed the last step and froze at the sight before him.
Beneath the cold moonlight, a black-haired female shinigami staggered across the grass, blood soaking her uniform. Her once-beautiful face was marred and hollow, stripped of humanity, like a demon crawling up from hell.
She dragged a man's limp body in silence.
"…Brother Kaien," Ganju whispered.
Kūkaku Shiba, spiritual pressure raging despite her desperate attempt to hold it back, clenched her fists so tightly that veins bulged against her skin.
The woman released her burden. The body hit the ground with a dull thud.
"I killed him," she said flatly.
Rukia Kuchiki's violet eyes burned with a hollow resignation. She stood ready for death, offering no excuses.
Kūkaku's heart twisted. She could see Kaien's expression even in death—not twisted in rage, nor bitter at betrayal. Instead, his faint smile seemed both apologetic and relieved.
Even murdered by a comrade, her brother bore no hatred.
Why?
Kūkaku didn't understand, but she respected his final will. To unleash her fury on this shinigami would defile Kaien's last choice.
"Get out."
Her voice cracked like a whip.
"You can kill me," Rukia answered calmly.
"I told you to get out! Did you hear me?!"
Kūkaku's eyes flared with murderous intent before reason forced it down.
"…Then kill me whenever you wish," Rukia whispered, turning away.
Dark clouds swallowed the stars and moon, cloaking her retreat in suffocating shadow.
Ganju stumbled to Kaien's side, shaking his brother's still shoulders. His young mind could not process the truth.
"Brother, please wake up! I'll behave from now on, I swear! I'll even become a Soul Reaper if you tell me to!"
Kūkaku closed her eyes. Her voice was soft, trembling.
"Ganju… like Father and Mother, Brother will never wake up again."
"No! I don't want that—!" Ganju wailed, collapsing in tears. Children could cry endlessly, and he did.
Kūkaku let him, kneeling beside the body with tenderness few had ever seen from her.
"…Brother. Welcome home."
Yinyan, her own eyes wet, bowed her head. "Lady Kūkaku, please accept my condolences…"
Haiyan Shiba, beloved for his warmth and spirit, had spoken just days earlier of becoming the 13th Division's next captain. Now, he returned home broken and lifeless.
Was the Shiba family cursed? One genius after another taken too soon.
"Yinyan, bring water. I'll prepare him… I won't let him lie here looking like this."
With practiced strength, Kūkaku lifted her brother. She refused herself the luxury of breaking down—not yet. Soon the Seireitei would send word. The Shiba name still carried weight; the death of its heir would not pass unmarked.
Her uncle—Captain Jūshirō Ukitake of the 13th Division—would tear Soul Society apart if silence fell on Kaien's murder.
Kūkaku descended the stairs, glanced at Shiraishi, and said curtly:
"Sorry. Find an empty room. I can't host you right now."
Shiraishi's words of comfort caught in his throat. "Don't worry about me. I'll manage."
She nodded, grief clouding her face. That sorrow carved into him deeper than words.
Shiraishi exhaled into the cold air.
In his past life, he had been an orphan. Reborn here, summoned through some twisted game, he still looked much like himself—just younger, thinner, and wearing Yasuo's garb.
He couldn't truly grasp the pain of losing family. But watching Kūkaku's grief told him it was unbearable.
Kaien is gone already? Shiraishi frowned. How far before the main story even begins?
The timeline was maddeningly vague. If memory served, both Kaien's death and the Isshin incident fell in the same year—roughly two decades before Ichigo's story. In that time, Kūkaku would lose an arm, becoming a one-armed heroine.
Now that Shiraishi was here, he swore he would not let that happen.
Perhaps it was foolish, but he already cared for her. Maybe it began with her beauty and fire, but true affection always started with attraction. Without that spark, who would ever look deeper?
His thoughts swirled restlessly as he lay down in an empty, bare room. Sleep never came. With no blanket or pillow, rest was impossible.
He groaned, dragging himself up and wandering the halls. Instead of bothering Kūkaku, he sought the bathroom.
He opened the wrong door.
Not a toilet—but a cavernous chamber. The great black barrel of the Shiba clan's Hanabi cannon pierced the ceiling, its vast chamber illuminated faintly.
Kaien's coffin rested atop the platform.
Kūkaku sat vigil, Ganju asleep across her lap, his cheeks still wet with tears. She didn't look up until the door creaked.
"…Still awake?"
"Yeah. Needed the toilet."
"End of the hall. Turn right."
Her voice was tired. She returned her gaze to the coffin.
Shiraishi scratched his head, lingered, then pulled something from his bag. He placed it beside her with an awkward shrug.
"…Special spicy senbei. From Aoi's family in West District Three. Only ones like it in Rukongai. Try it—it's so hot you'll cry."
Kūkaku blinked, took the snack. "Really? Then I'll try."
Shiraishi left quickly.
Behind him, the faint sound of crunching filled the room.
Tears welled in Kūkaku's eyes.
"…So spicy."