Two days earlier — Seireitei, on the streets.
Takeda Satoru, who had barely escaped alive, was still shaken. Every few steps he glanced back over his shoulder.
As if some monster were chasing him.
Even now, he still didn't understand what had happened. How could his Zanpakutō—bound to his life—suddenly lose control? The pain of his Bankai being forcibly canceled still clung to his body like a curse.
After a few heavy breaths, he looked at the Ninth Division members behind him, whose expressions were complicated, and spoke in a hoarse voice born of fear:
"You return to the barracks first. I'm going to report what happened at the manor to Head-Captain Yamamoto."
The squad members murmured assent and headed back toward their barracks together.
Watching their backs, Takeda knew his standing among his own men had taken a devastating hit.
If today's events spread, his position in the Gotei 13 might drop as well.
The respect and admiration he was supposed to enjoy would likely vanish—replaced by endless criticism and contempt behind his back.
The only way to fix it was to defeat that woman Shutara Senjumaru head-on.
But every time he even thought of it, a phantom pain would stab at his soul, as if reminding him of the terror he'd just endured.
Takeda waited until his men were fully out of sight before moving, but he didn't head for First Division.
Halfway there, he changed direction.
The Noble District.
Unlike the other streets in the area, when Takeda stepped onto this one, there was no one else around.
Only him, alone, walking forward.
There were no guards and no inspections, yet he still felt as though countless eyes were watching him.
On both sides stretched lavish gardens and scenery that ordinary souls would never see in a lifetime. Even though Takeda had visited many times, he still found his gaze drawn to the splendor.
At dawn, gardeners in noble service labored diligently, pouring their skill into maintaining the road's beauty in flawless condition, not daring to slack off.
At the end of the road, a towering estate lay coiled like a sleeping beast. A heavy pressure washed over him.
The more he looked, the smaller he felt.
This was true noble heritage.
A servant was already waiting at the gate. He escorted Takeda into a reception room and served tea and snacks.
"The clan head will arrive shortly. Please wait patiently, sir."
With that, the servant withdrew respectfully. Every movement was precise, as if following an established set of rules without a single mistake.
Takeda let out a long breath and forced himself to calm down.
Before long, an unmistakable Reiatsu rolled in like a tide. Even from afar, its heavy, intimidating weight covered the entire reception room.
"An uncontrollable variable must have appeared, Captain Takeda."
The newcomer looked old, yet vigorous. A sharp flash seemed to spark behind his eyes.
"Otherwise, you wouldn't have come to me."
Takeda's presence was completely crushed by the man's. He nodded respectfully and gave a detailed account of what had happened at the Yokota manor.
"So another deal has gone wrong," the old man said calmly, his eyes barely moving—as if he had expected this outcome.
"But it doesn't matter. What was lost was nothing important."
"Shutara Senjumaru will soon depart for the Soul King's Palace and ascend to the Royal Guard. At that time, I will use the Central 46 to seize control of the Central Prison."
"Those nobles can simply taste punishment for a few more days. Let it 'cool their heads.'"
"As for Hueco Mundo, the Moriyama family will handle contact."
"Captain Takeda—these next few days, I'll need you to run things frequently. Moriyama is new to this sort of work and may make mistakes. I'll be counting on you."
Despite the gulf in status and Takeda always acting as a subordinate, the old man's attitude never changed.
Not even when Takeda failed his assignment.
Takeda lowered his head, feeling honored, memorizing every detail of the instructions to ensure nothing like this happened again.
"Captain Takeda, do not forget what we seek."
"Soul Society is merely a cage. A wider, boundless world awaits us. The ancestral wish left unfinished will be fulfilled in our generation."
"One day, you will see a new world."
Takeda inhaled deeply, pressed down the turbulence in his chest, bowed respectfully, and left the estate.
Over the next two days, he compiled the incident into official reports, submitted them to First Division, and sincerely stated that he recognized his mistake.
He shouldn't have moved against Sixth Seat Naraku before fully understanding the situation.
First Division issued an appropriate punishment; Takeda accepted it gladly. It seemed, on the surface, that the matter had ended there.
However, when he later left Ninth Division to head into Rukongai and coordinate with the Moriyama family, he passed through a relatively secluded alley—
And a sharp sense of danger surged from his heart.
Takeda didn't hesitate. Instinctively, he unleashed his strongest Reiatsu.
A brilliant pillar of light surged into the sky. The flood of pressure pulverized the surrounding buildings and even cleared the clouds overhead.
Yet even then, the danger in his chest didn't fade.
It grew stronger.
A plain, unadorned wave of sword pressure appeared out of nowhere, cutting the Reiatsu flood like a hot knife through butter.
Rip—
With a sound like cloth tearing, scalding blood sprayed.
A horrifying wound ran from his shoulder blade down to his abdomen.
The agony triggered a survival instinct like nothing he'd ever felt. Before the attacker could inflict something worse—
Takeda drew his sword.
Reiatsu wrapped the blade. A violent shockwave swept through the narrow alley, collapsing buildings in an instant and buying him a sliver of breathing room.
From the empty shadows, a figure stepped out under a veil of Kidō light. Sword in hand, he didn't even speak before swinging.
"Who are you?!" Takeda roared back, Reiatsu surging like a breached dam as he crushed down toward the silhouette. The earth groaned and cracked.
Fractures spread out from the center of the clash.
After several rapid exchanges, Takeda realized the attacker wasn't as overwhelmingly strong as he'd feared.
The sword technique was excellent, the Shunpo refined—but there was one flaw that barely counted as a flaw:
Their Reiatsu was slightly weaker.
Under the Kidō light, Aizen frowned.
No wonder even someone as absurdly overpowered as Naraku had struggled against Takeda.
This veteran captain was genuinely strong.
…Time to try that.
Aizen's eyes deepened.