After struggling with it for a long while, Aizen ultimately decided to give up.
Mastering triggered Kidō was already plenty. Casting Kidō with his head was a bit too much, even for him.
Being associated with this guy was already a hit to one's reputation. If he also picked up Naraku's "signature moves," he might get completely led astray.
"Let's talk about Tsunayashiro instead."
Aizen looked noticeably more relaxed. He stopped fixating on triggered Kidō—given his talent, it wouldn't take him long to fully master the technique anyway.
As for that ridiculous "casting with your head" thing… he'd shelve it for now.
"The strategy will need time to set up. Before that, I'd rather tell you about something I discovered by accident."
Aizen lifted his head. His calm gaze settled on Naraku. Sunlight through the window fell on his thin, plain lenses, hiding whatever emotion lay in his eyes.
"Sora. Come with me."
With that, Aizen reached out and erased the remaining traces of triggered Kidō in the dōjō. A heavy, abyss-like Reiatsu flickered once—
Then vanished.
Once he confirmed nothing remained, he headed out. Naraku followed, curiosity piqued.
They walked through the barracks one after the other, drawing greetings from squad members.
Everyone already knew the Central Prison seated officer who frequently came to visit Fifth Division.
And after hearing what Naraku had done, many Shinigami genuinely admired him.
Almost no Shinigami dared draw a blade against nobles.
Even if someone did—and even if they acted "according to the law"—they would vanish from Seireitei before long.
Naraku, on the other hand, was alive and well, rising step by step. Now he was Third Seat of the Central Prison—one of the hottest names in Soul Society.
Add to that the fact he was quiet, straightforward, and didn't talk much, and plenty of Shinigami had started seeing him as someone to aspire to.
As for Aizen, his reputation within Fifth Division was even better.
Gentle and steady, reliable and competent, and incredibly efficient at handling squad affairs—no matter how nasty the paperwork, he could resolve it cleanly.
"Dragon of Documents" wasn't a title given by a captain or vice-captain.
It was something the rank-and-file had pushed on him unanimously.
No one fit it better than Aizen.
After checking in with the Shinigami on duty at the office, Aizen took Naraku and left Fifth Division.
On the barracks wall, a man leaned against the cold brick, chewing on a blade of grass he'd picked up somewhere. His smooth blond hair fell neatly, and his lazy gaze followed the two of them as they left.
"The Central Prison, huh…"
"Tch. Friendship? I'm not jealous of that at all…"
With that, he hopped down from the wall and headed inside.
But after he left, the two figures walking toward the Central Prison direction began to blur—
And then dissipated into the air like mirages.
As if they'd never been there.
Junrinan, Outer District.
Naraku stared curiously at the surroundings.
In a bright, spotless room, neat rows of precision devices and instruments were arranged—equipment so advanced it was rare even in the Central Prison's labs.
Inside a massive container was dark green liquid. A familiar figure, who should've been smashed to paste, floated within it, eyes shut, body covered in numbers and patterns no normal person could understand.
Naraku grinned. "Isn't that Ishikawa, the guy who attacked us? Didn't I smash him into pieces?"
"Aizen, I didn't know you were into… super-assembly."
Aizen: "?"
Before bringing him here, Aizen had expected Naraku to be "a bit inhuman," but he hadn't expected him to be this pathological.
Super-assembly?
What the hell kind of phrase is that?
Aizen suppressed the spike in his blood pressure and spoke seriously.
"I brought you here to tell you something."
"Ever since my time at the Academy, I've been preparing for scientific experiments."
"Because the subject is extremely taboo, I built this lab in the Outer District of Rukongai."
"Do you have anything to say about that?"
To be honest, Aizen had wanted to come clean ever since Naraku had openly taught him Kidō-swordsmanship, but he'd never found the right moment.
Now, after receiving yet another "gift" from this guy, Aizen decided to lay everything out.
As for what Naraku would choose, Aizen was ready.
At worst, he could leave Soul Society and go to the World of the Living—or Hueco Mundo. It would just take more time.
Naraku stared at him. "Did you clean up properly?"
"…?"
"I mean—no one else found out, right?"
"…."
Naraku's brain operated on such an alien frequency that Aizen momentarily blue-screened, unsure how to answer.
He took a breath, steadied himself, and said firmly:
"Using Shinigami for experiments is classified as a forbidden act in Soul Society law. If you violate it, at best your Reiatsu is sealed and you're exiled to the World of the Living or the Dangai."
"At worst, you're thrown into Muken or executed."
"You're a jailer. After seeing this, aren't you going to do something?"
Naraku spread his hands helplessly.
"Law also says you can't overstep rank or harm noble interests. Do I look like I follow that one?"
"If we truly did everything by the book, back at Elysium House we wouldn't have touched the Araki family at all. We would've reported to the Central 46 first and waited for a secret order."
"Aizen—do you honestly think I'd wait?"
Aizen fell silent.
"Besides," Naraku continued, "you're not experimenting on random people."
He stood by the container, patted the glass wall, and grinned. "It's our old buddy Ishikawa. If he's watching from the afterlife, he'd probably feel honored."
"Oh, right—why is there an arm floating in there too?"
While Aizen was still thinking, Naraku noticed a thick arm floating in the same green liquid.
"Takeda Satoru," Aizen said.
He shot Naraku a complicated look and chose to switch topics cleanly.
"I was the one who attacked him. I underestimated his strength and couldn't finish him on the spot. But I still gained something."
"And that's what I wanted to show you."
He stepped to the device panel. His ten fingers danced over the controls in rapid, precise motions, blurring into afterimages. A huge screen lit up in midair.
On it, Takeda's arm was dissected into layers—hair, blood vessels, and deeper still, down to the distribution of reishi structures.
Every section was marked with detailed parameters.
"After a period of study…"
Seeing that Naraku truly didn't seem to care about the "taboo" nature of the research, Aizen regained his composure. Light reflected off his lenses, and a quiet confidence returned to his bearing.
"…I found phosphorus gas in his arm."
~~~
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