Chapter 189: The Fall
Three days was nothing to a place like Seireitei.
With its ancient walls, its traditions layered like sediment, and its history measured in centuries, three days should have passed like a shallow breath.
Yet in those three days, the entire Seireitei began to feel as if it had lost its mind.
One event followed another, each one sharper than the last, each one pushing the Gotei 13 deeper into suspicion, resentment, and a quiet, helpless fury.
It started with Central 46.
They announced that Rukia Kuchiki had granted Shinigami power to a human, violating the laws that governed the Seireitei, and that she deserved execution.
To most Shinigami, it barely registered as unusual.
The noble families fought, plotted, and devoured each other's interests as naturally as breathing. When something happened in Seireitei, the common assumption was simple, this was another secret struggle among the nobles, a dispute over spoils. Someone would be used as a scapegoat, the families would divide the benefits, and the matter would vanish into silence.
Then Central 46 decided to raise the stakes.
They recalled Sosuke Aizen from his post and demanded a so called captains' meeting to discuss Rukia's case, as if the Gotei 13 were merely a prop to protect the face of Soul Society.
That tactic was common too.
No matter how disliked Aizen might be, he could not overturn the noble structure by himself. When noble families split internally, the Gotei 13 was dragged in to stabilize the stage, to show that the nobles still held the reins of legitimacy.
Aizen returned the next day.
And from the moment he arrived, something felt wrong.
He requested entry into Central 46 multiple times, demanding to question them directly.
Each time, he was refused.
He sent fifteen or sixteen urgent messages in a single morning, then Central 46 announced their decision.
Due to the urgency of Rukia Kuchiki's trial, and internal disagreements, Central 46 would be sealed. People could enter, but no one could leave. They claimed the supplies inside were sufficient for the council to remain closed until they reached a conclusion.
Everyone understood what it meant.
Central 46 was divided. Aizen's repeated requests gave them an excuse to stay silent, to ignore the chaos outside while the noble families checked and threatened each other. They could wait until the larger struggle settled, then emerge and declare that, after investigation, the situation was justified and the death penalty was no longer necessary.
It was the kind of political maneuver Soul Society had performed countless times.
It should have ended there.
But then the air turned sour.
The following afternoon and evening, after realizing his requests would never be answered, Aizen contacted Shunsui Kyoraku and Jushiro Ukitake in secret. He claimed he had discovered the true target behind a major conspiracy within Soul Society.
Then he began drafting official documents inside the Fifth Division.
In the early morning of the third day, a fire broke out in the Fifth Division for unknown reasons.
The flames consumed the documents completely.
Aizen himself vanished before the fire could even be contained.
At dawn, the search parties found him.
He was nailed to the outer wall like a warning, his death so grotesque it robbed even seasoned Shinigami of breath.
Hinamori Momo saw it and broke.
She attacked Gin Ichimaru on the spot, screaming that Aizen had named him an enemy while drafting those documents.
Her words were explosive, but she was not a captain, and her grief was too raw, too unstable.
She was confined to the Fourth Division, officially for mental treatment, unofficially for protection.
Almost at the same time, as Rukia was placed in the Repentance Cell, an unexplained explosion erupted outside. For a brief moment, the prison's defenses were breached.
By the afternoon of the third day, the Shihoin family issued a veiled warning. They implied Aizen's investigation had uncovered something dangerous, and hinted that Aizen himself might have had a problem.
The Tsunayoshiro family responded at once.
As the family that handled Soul Society's history, they declared that conspiracies did exist within Seireitei, and that the Shihoin knew nothing about them. They demanded Rukia Kuchiki's immediate execution, insisting delay would invite disaster.
The Saito family, long obsessed with the question of Hell, offered no real stance. Their first head had carved their existence into history by becoming captain of the Sixth Division's noble squad through immortality, but after that, their eyes remained turned toward Hell rather than politics.
So the center of the storm fell into the hands of the Kuchiki.
The head of the four great families.
And yet, the Kuchiki family remained silent.
Byakuya Kuchiki had already broken noble rules twice for Rukia. Now he said nothing at all. His silence made everyone uneasy, unsure whether he was waiting to strike, or setting bait, or simply watching the board burn.
The four noble families revealed their positions.
The one that mattered most stayed quiet.
Central 46 could not respond to that easily.
Or perhaps, from another perspective, their reaction was exactly what anyone would expect.
With the noble families clashing and the Kuchiki family refusing to speak, Central 46 threw Rukia into the Repentance Cell and pretended the world could be paused.
Then came the order.
Because of the bizarre events piling up, Central 46 announced that captains were forbidden from coordinating with one another unless absolutely necessary. They were to remain inside their divisions until the emergency ended.
It should have been manageable.
Political probing was normal. Noble games were normal.
But Aizen was dead.
In Soul Society, Sosuke Aizen's reputation, in some ways, even surpassed that of the Captain Commander. To low ranking Shinigami, he was a symbol of reform, a man who had tried, again and again, to improve the treatment of those beneath him.
He died on a wall like an insect pinned for display.
And the order that followed made the irony unbearable.
A man who cared about others died, and no one was allowed to care.
That same day, four captains, Shunsui Kyoraku, Jushiro Ukitake, Sajin Komamura, and Kaname Tosen, jointly petitioned Central 46. They demanded a temporary suspension of the ban and a priority investigation into Aizen's death.
Central 46 rejected them without hesitation.
Captain Commander Yamamoto Shigekuni then issued his own forceful order. Every captain would remain in their division dormitories. Obedience was absolute.
So the Gotei 13 swallowed their anger.
Shinigami who did not even like Aizen found themselves simmering anyway, because the message was clear, a captain's death could be ignored, but the noble game could not be disturbed.
Then the Twelfth Division added fuel to the fire.
Mayuri Kurotsuchi sent a message claiming traces of a Ryoka had been detected near Seireitei again. He requested immediate action.
Central 46 refused.
Instead, they issued another command, captains were to avoid contacting each other and designate patrol zones. Combat and patrol would be handled within each captain's own territory, isolated, separated, controlled.
That decision did not cause open revolt.
But resentment spread like a stain.
So you ignore the death of a captain, but panic at the rumor of a rogue soul.
So Aizen's case is handled quietly, internally, behind sealed doors.
Seireitei sank into chaos.
And on the only road leading from Rukongai to Seireitei, at the massive gate that had stood for centuries, Jidanbo looked at the man before him and felt his throat tighten.
In hundreds of years of guarding the White Road, he had never seen someone like this.
The stranger wore a moon white robe, long orange hair flowing behind him like a banner. His face was calm, resolute, carrying a quiet sorrow that did not waver.
But it was not the robe that terrified Jidanbo.
It was the three black spheres floating behind the stranger's back.
The man gave off no obvious spiritual pressure.
He walked forward casually.
And yet Jidanbo felt an instinctive dread, so heavy it made his hands tremble around his axes. It was as if his body understood something his mind refused to accept.
This thing can erase me.
Still, he was a gatekeeper of Seireitei.
Dignity mattered.
With both massive battle axes raised, Jidanbo forced his legs steady and stood in the White Road's path.
"Seireitei does not allow rogue souls to enter at will," he said, voice shaking despite his will. "If you force your way in, you will be killed."
The orange haired youth lifted his eyelids slightly, as if surprised by the warning.
Jidanbo swallowed and tried again, more serious, almost pleading despite himself.
"You should go back. The situation inside Seireitei isn't good right now. If you have something you absolutely must do, then come back later and talk to the people inside."
The stranger's gaze settled on him.
"Jidanbo, right."
"Ah. Yeah."
"It's fine," the youth said calmly. "Once I'm inside, I'll handle it quickly. No one will blame you."
Jidanbo's eyes widened.
"…Really."
"Of course. Compared to what I'm about to do, it's perfectly normal that you cannot stop me."
A silence fell.
Then the youth tilted his head slightly, as if considering Jidanbo's position.
"To prevent you from being questioned later, I'll demonstrate my ability."
One hand remained inside the white coat. The other lifted.
A simple flick of his fingers.
In an instant, one of the black spheres vanished without sound.
The next second, a ravine appeared at Jidanbo's feet.
Tens of meters long.
Several meters deep.
No explosion.
No shockwave.
No light.
It was as if time itself had been cut away, as if the world had always been missing that piece and no one had noticed until now.
The sphere returned to the youth's back.
Jidanbo collapsed to the ground, sweat pouring down his face, axes slipping from his hands.
The youth did not look back.
He nodded once, as if acknowledging something that did not need words, then walked along the White Road toward Seireitei's inner mountain.
Step by step.
Calm.
Unstoppable.
Facing a world that felt almost unfamiliar, Ichigo Kurosaki continued forward without glancing to either side, keeping his expression cool, the way a mysterious traveler should.
This was the plan.
The plan he and Aizen had chosen as the most suitable, the plan that would display his ability, intensify every conflict, and maximize the shock of chakra.
There was no need to sneak through Rukongai first, no need to break barriers quietly, no need for detours.
Start at the main gate.
Start at the White Road.
Walk straight toward Sokyoku Hill.
Defeat whoever stands in the way.
That was the most perfect form of propaganda.
Before he left, Aizen's final words had carried an almost intoxicating sense of destruction.
"Just walk straight ahead. What could be more awe inspiring than walking straight ahead, when you want to accomplish something truly impressive."
Ichigo would enter through the main gate, walk forward, defeat enemies, and reach Rukia.
That was the theory.
In reality, after defeating two or three captains, he was supposed to show strain, then slip away to Rukongai to spread the Divine Tree.
Even so, the thought of defeating powerful enemies alone sent a strange thrill through him. It was embarrassing, but he could not deny it. A young man who had only just crawled out of his chuunibyou phase was still vulnerable to the temptation of looking impossibly cool.
He had even asked Aizen to help tailor a pose that looked capable, terrifying, and calm.
A white coat.
Long orange hair moving with the wind.
A face composed, faintly sorrowful, like someone shouldering a burden for a friend.
Ichigo's existence was foreign to Soul Society. In theory, that should have made him irrelevant to their structure.
But when he displayed power they had never seen, power that broke the assumptions of spiritual pressure itself, then attention became inevitable. Aizen would move in tandem with him, ensuring that shock rooted itself inside Seireitei like a splinter.
Before arriving, Ichigo had memorized the Gotei 13.
And among them, there was one name he needed to reach during the first assault.
Mayuri Kurotsuchi.
A researcher.
A man whose curiosity outweighed morality on most days.
Mayuri would not care whether chakra betrayed the Soul King's system. He did not have the moral standards to feel that kind of guilt. But he would absolutely be interested in spreading it if it offered new experiments.
Curiosity was a lever.
Ichigo could use it.
Hope for rebels, chaos for the system, and with Central 46 controlled from within, it was possible to carve out a region inside Soul Society where chakra could take root as its own power structure.
More importantly, chakra was easy to learn.
With proper manipulation, someone nearly powerless could become a chakra user in a blink.
So the operation was simple.
Beat whoever appears.
Pretend to be exhausted.
Teleport to Rukongai.
Plant Divine Trees and leave messages.
Return and attack again.
Repeat until the scale was enough.
Eventually, the deaths of Central 46 would be exposed. Aizen could then blame Tokinada Tsunayoshiro, using his staged death as part of the narrative. With the council hypnotized, with Kisuke's hidden influence, the three of them could switch masks again, publicly opposed, privately expanding their control.
Ichigo did not need to handle those details.
All he needed to do was fight.
Fight well.
Fight so well that Seireitei could not ignore him.
Yet as he walked the White Road and looked at the empty streets, Ichigo felt a faint confusion.
According to the plan, someone should have come already.
How was he supposed to show chakra's advantage if no one tried to stop him.
Then, in an instant, his instincts screamed.
Ichigo twisted aside without thinking.
A cold flash cut through the space where his chest had been.
A blade, sinister and smooth like a snake, appeared in front of him as if it had always been there.
Only after the strike did the voice reach his ears, sweet in tone, chilling beneath.
"Shoot him, sharpshooter."
Ichigo's fingers lifted.
Two fingers closed calmly around the blade's tip.
He turned his gaze toward the shadow it had come from.
There, barely visible until he chose to notice him, stood the captain of the Third Division.
Gin Ichimaru.
Aizen's man.
And a man who would do anything for love.
Ichigo's eyes were cold.
"So this is how Seireitei treats its guests," he said quietly, "with a sneak attack."
Gin's smile curved like a blade, eyes narrowed into that familiar foxlike shape.
"A misunderstanding, young traveler," Gin replied. "What makes you think you are a guest."
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