West Rukongai, at Kūkaku's estate.
"Now that is… something," Urahara Kisuke said, staring up at the cannon tower.
Kūkaku snorted. "Spare me. I know your skills. You're just not interested. If you wanted, you could build one better."
"Being praised by Miss Kūkaku is my honor. But we're friends, aren't we? Since you're already researching it, I don't need to. I can borrow it when needed~"
"…Yoruichi, can I kick this shameless guy out?"
"I suggest you don't." Yoruichi led Orihime toward the tower.
"Afraid we'll lack a lackey to toss as a shield?"
"That too, but mostly he's devious enough to put on steel trunks and let you break your toes kicking him. I worry about your leg. You've already lost an arm—don't make life harder."
"Tch."
"If you insist, after this is done, I'll punt him to your satisfaction at the celebration."
"Deal~"
Clap.
Kūkaku grinned and slapped Yoruichi's hand—ignoring Urahara turning a shade greener.
Orihime bowed deeply. "Miss Kūkaku… Yoruichi already told me you and Miss Kuchiki don't get along. Even so, you're willing to help. I don't know how to thank you."
"That's my family's business. You, kid, worry about your future. You're not likely to come back alive. I don't need thanks from a dead girl."
She scrubbed Orihime's hair with a rough palm, then grinned. "If you really want to thank me, come back alive and share a drink."
"Miss Kūkaku, you're so kind! You're nothing like Mr. Ganju said!"
"…Forget Ganju—but don't ever say that line again! It's the second time I've heard it—I'm getting goosebumps!"
"For real? Who else said it besides Inoue?"
"A monster freshman who beat an Adjuchas right after entering the Academy," Kūkaku cast Yoruichi a glance.
"You don't mean Shigū Miya or Kurosaki Ichigo?" Yoruichi's face went odd. "Their names made it to the World of the Living? Well, they did go there—and made a mess. You probably crossed paths. Maybe you knew them alive."
"Miss Kūkaku knows Kurosaki-kun and Shigū-kun too?!" Orihime's eyes lit up.
"Yeah—we took down an Adjuchas together. Hit it off, I guess. But those two—and two other brats—talked me up like a flower, called me 'Big Sis'… and then ghosted me for months. Wonder what they're busy with."
She grumbled. After the Squad Two incident they'd parted and never met again. She suspected they'd forgotten her.
"They're probably doing the same thing as us," Urahara smiled. The mood chilled—not because he was hated, but because the words were heavy.
"I just hope our plans don't collide," he added. "So I chose not to guess much—acting in a way that looks reckless. That way they can easily track us… and use that to do what they want to do."
"A kind of… inside-outside pincer."
"Even if we haven't met, our goal's the same."
Yoruichi tugged Orihime into the tower. "You're right… Come on, Kisuke—let's throw ourselves into the gears, and buy them their chance."
"That's not… exactly what I meant," Urahara scratched his head and followed, wry.
"Hey, Urahara—" Kūkaku called.
"Miss Kūkaku?"
"…No, forget it. I had a question, but you're full of pretty lies. I'll dig it up myself when this is over."
"…Then good luck."
"And to you."
…
Seireitei, First Division—rest room.
"Hinamori…!" Hitsugaya jerked awake and sat up. Someone handed him a towel and a cup.
"Captain Hitsugaya, you're finally awake."
"You… Aizen?" Seeing that mild, harmless face, some tension left him. He didn't take the towel or water—just eyed him warily, lost. "Where is this? I was at the East Sacred Wall—Right! Hinamori. She's dead! Ichimaru did it…! Who stopped me?!"
"Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni," Aizen said softly as he set down the towel and cup, hands folded in his sleeves.
"Th—the Captain-Commander…?"
"In that situation, only he could subdue you without harm."
"…," Hitsugaya fell silent, rose, and grabbed his Zanpakutō from beside the bed.
"Wait—where are you going?"
"To find Ichimaru and ask him. If it was him, I'll kill him on the spot."
"What if it wasn't? Then who? You know Gin's always been… disagreeable. He might've just been trying to anger you."
Aizen's cool words froze Hitsugaya's hand on the door. "Also—aren't you curious why I'm here? As Hinamori's captain, our places should be reversed."
"Aizen…" Hitsugaya ground out, "What do you know?"
"I've been confined."
"What?"
"Right now, I can't do anything."
"…What are you talking about? That's not what I asked!"
"And that," Aizen murmured, "is exactly what the killer wants."
"…," Hitsugaya stared.
"So you see, it's a vile murder. And I do know things. But I won't tell you—Hinamori will." He produced a letter.
"This…!" Hitsugaya took it with trembling fingers. He could almost see Hinamori's face. He broke the seal. The neat, familiar hand flowed across the page.
Tōshirō—by the time you read this, I'm probably dead.
The opening line nearly broke him.
I hope you didn't see me die. Shigū-kun says that's the cruelest image to leave the ones close to you. I don't want to hurt anyone. But some things must be done—not just for me, but for everyone.
"Hinamori, what did you—"
It started when Captain Ichimaru used me to threaten Captain Aizen into doing his bidding. I learned it by accident from Captain Aizen. I couldn't believe a fellow captain could be so base.
I was afraid. Someone so base must be hiding an unspeakable end.
And then, at the captains' meeting the other day, Captain Aizen submitted another "advice" against his will.
"So that proposal that day… was Gin's idea?!" Hitsugaya seethed. He'd found it mature and steady at the time.
I can't sit and watch. The ryoka invasion, and Captain Ichimaru's frequent moves, mean a great change is coming to Soul Society. I don't want everyone to be hurt. But I have no proof. And Captain Aizen, for my safety, obeys him.
So I decided to find proof myself. I'm small fry—he won't notice me. I might actually find something.
But if something happens to me… Shiro, I'm sorry, but I'm leaving the rest to you. I don't want to burden Captain Aizen further—don't want him to shoulder vengeance for me.
That leaves only you.
His knuckles whitened; his breath quickened.
You'll blame me for making trouble, I know—but I don't feel bad at all. You're not the kid who gnawed watermelons and called me "bed-wetter Peach" anymore—you're the dashing Captain of Squad Ten.
Someone like you won't bungle it like clumsy me. So I can leave it all to you—with peace of mind. To the strongest person in my heart.
"…,"
"Captain Hitsugaya?" Aizen said softly.
"I'm fine." He turned away, curt. Silence fell; both needed a moment to breathe.
Then—a world-shaking boom outside.
"?!"
"—!"
They stepped into the corridor and looked up. A streaking star smashed into the Soul-Shield Veil—punched through. The shock was visible across Seireitei; even the sun seemed to pale.
Hitsugaya started to ask what—then a volcanic reiatsu hit him. Too close—like on a crater's rim.
BOOM!
Flame geysered; a heatwave rolled. The empty heavens seemed to melt and warp.
"You arrogant brats—you take no account of the old man!"
The roar that split heaven rose with the flames—no hint of age; only an unaging, invincible will.
"Uwaa! I knew we were being cocky, but did we have to make the Captain-Commander this mad?!" Urahara yelped mid-air.
"Enough chatter—we're out of time. Release your Zanpakutō," Yoruichi snapped.
"Leave it to me! Time to show results—Three Days Shield—!"
Orihime touched the clips in her hair; they became a great blade in her hand, and her clothes shimmered into shihakushō. She leveled the blade at the sea of flame spewing up from below. Her reiatsu burst forth, weaving a triangular barrier ahead.
Thin and orange-gold, it worked like a reflective membrane—like rocks on a shore; wave after blazing wave broke and slid.
"…," Yamamoto watched from the First Division eaves, eyes opening a slit—slightly surprised. Then he snorted. "Naïve."
Urahara was first to sense the problem. The veil was reforming—the flames battering it made it shudder violently, and fire bounced back in a reverse surge.
He whirled and threw up a Blood Mist Shield to block the backflow. "Yoruichi-san—Inoue's yours!"
"Got it!"
"W—what?" Orihime managed—just before a spiraling clash of forces erupted. A spiriton vortex exploded and flung the three in different directions, sending two streaks of light earthward: one Urahara, the other Yoruichi—who had been ready and caught Orihime.
From below, the Captain-Commander raised a hand. "Carry my orders."
"Shunk!" Sasakibe appeared, kneeling. "All squads are to hunt the ryoka at full strength within their sectors. Delay them. Do not let them near First Division. The execution tomorrow must not be disrupted."
"As you command!"
Meanwhile, outside the rest room, Aizen pushed his glasses and murmured, eyes on the spectacle overhead: "Ryoka—Urahara's lot, yes? They held off the Captain-Commander without going all out. And it wasn't Urahara or Yoruichi who did it—so there's another expert. Quite a lineup."
"Yeah. No wonder Ichimaru wanted them barred—he feared Kisuke would wreck his plan." Hitsugaya clenched a fist. "But I don't care. I'll find who killed Hinamori—and tear them apart."
"You still think Captain Ichimaru is the killer?"
"Even if not, he's tied to it. He alone can't stir a storm. If there's a plot this big, there are others in the dark. I'll find them—one by one. No one gets away."
"I want to encourage you. But vigilante executions bring the Central 46's punishment. Don't forget that."
"Doesn't matter." Hitsugaya's heart didn't move. "A captain draws his blade for duty—that's battle. What I'll do now is revenge—ugly violence for Hinamori's sake."
"So—I'm ready to throw away my rank."
"Aizen—Hinamori didn't want you hurt. So stay here. Witness what I do—for her."
He turned to go—no time to waste.
"…," Aizen watched him storm off. Tomorrow, that prodigy captain would not be at the execution. "Witness, hmm? A shame, Hitsugaya. What I wish to witness isn't such base violence—but a power far more… transcendent."
He murmured, eyes turning toward the Shin'ō Academy.
-------
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