Which Is More Important, Dignity or Life?
Ukitake Jūshirō was a pale, gentle man, his thin frame making his shihakushō and captain's haori seem almost too large.
At first glance, his subordinates and even other captains sometimes wondered how such a frail-looking man could possibly bear the mantle of a Gotei 13 captain. He carried no oppressive aura, no violent killing intent. Instead, he exuded the quiet air of someone forever lingering on the edge of death. Some lieutenants and even third seats seemed more intimidating than him.
But this was a grave misunderstanding.
Beneath Jūshirō's gentle smile and frailty lay a will of steel. His conviction was absolute, and his judgment rational to the point of cruelty.
He would willingly burn away his own body to save Kaien. Yet he would cut Kaien down without hesitation the moment he was lost.
If Kaien could not be saved, Jūshirō knew he must at least protect his dignity and prevent his soul from being devoured by a Hollow. That cold, rational judgment—so stark against his warmth—was the true core of Ukitake Jūshirō.
---
"You bastard!"
Shiba Kūkaku's voice shook with rage.
Jūshirō took two steps forward, guilt written on his face. He offered no rebuttal.
"I should have come last night to explain everything," he said quietly. "But… my illness relapsed, and I lost consciousness. Even so, I thank you for not striking at Rukia."
He lowered himself to his knees and bowed deeply, his forehead brushing the floor.
"You're so damn irritating," Kūkaku snapped. Her fist twitched, wanting to seize his collar and shake the truth out of him—but she hesitated. Roughness wouldn't loosen his tongue.
Her voice cracked as she asked, "Why did my brother die at the hands of a Shinigami? That wound on his chest wasn't made by a Hollow!"
Jūshirō rose to his feet slowly, his expression heavy. "It was. Kaien was killed… by a Hollow."
Kūkaku froze. For a moment her face betrayed shock—but then she pieced it together, lips trembling, and fell silent.
He told her everything.
---
It was simple, cruel in its simplicity.
A Hollow had infiltrated the Human World. Kaien, burdened with the deaths of his subordinates, insisted on confronting it himself—his duty as vice-captain, as husband, as comrade.
Jūshirō, pained but unable to refuse, permitted it.
Who could have imagined that this Hollow—a mere Gillian-class at best—would possess abilities stranger than most Adjuchas? Its power erased the connection between Shinigami and Zanpakutō, forcing Kaien to fight barehanded.
Kaien, who had always leaned on his Zanpakutō, found himself at a crippling disadvantage. His skill with kidō and hakuda was limited compared to his swordsmanship. A battle that should have been effortless instead became a desperate struggle.
"When Rukia tried to help him, I stopped her," Jūshirō admitted.
"Big brother's pride…" Kūkaku muttered, bitter understanding dawning.
Kaien would never allow another to intervene. To him, dignity outweighed his own life. For his comrades, for Miyako, for his family—he would fight alone, even to the death.
---
"At first, Kaien regained the upper hand," Jūshirō continued, coughing into a bloodied handkerchief. "But then… the Hollow revealed its true nature. Its body could fuse with a host. Its mask split open, and in an instant, its head burrowed into Kaien's chest. He—he was consumed from within. I should have stopped it… cough…"
His body convulsed with harsh coughs, but he forced himself to go on. "Instead, Rukia was left to bear the burden. She… she respected Kaien more than anyone. And she was the one who struck the final blow."
"No wonder…" Kūkaku clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened. She remembered Rukia's expression from the night before—the despair, the devastation. It wasn't the look of a murderer, but of someone destroyed by the weight of duty.
She wanted to rage at someone—Rukia, Jūshirō, the Hollows—but none of it felt right. Rukia had been broken by what she'd done. Jūshirō had only tried to protect Kaien's honor. The Hollows were already slain.
And so her fury had nowhere to go but inward.
---
"Ahem."
Shiraishi, who had been silent until now, coughed into his hand. Both Jūshirō and Kūkaku turned sharply.
"Forgive me for interrupting, but…" His expression tightened. "Your brother's soul—his reiatsu is dispersing."
"What!?" Kūkaku spun, her eyes widening.
The coffin on the platform glowed faintly, its form breaking apart into shimmering spirit particles. Kaien's lower half had already dissolved; his face and chest were slowly unraveling.
"What the hell is happening!?" Kūkaku shouted, panic in her voice.
"His body is returning to spirit particles too quickly," Jūshirō said grimly. "It must be the Hollow's fusion… His soul has been altered."
But even as he spoke, a thought gnawed at him. Normally, a Shinigami's soul purified by zanpakutō returned to Soul Society. Hollows slain by Shinigami returned to Hueco Mundo.
So then… where was Kaien's soul going?
---
"Brother!"
Kūkaku reached desperately for him, but her hands closed only on air. Kaien's face dissolved into motes of blue light, scattering past her fingertips before vanishing.
"Damn it!"
Her fist slammed into the coffin, splintering it to pieces. "DAMN IT ALL!"
Bai Shi—who had been watching silently—felt a chill crawl up his spine.
A murderous intent surged from behind him.
His reiatsu flared, and in one smooth motion he drew his blade, swinging it back to intercept the attack.