In stark contrast to the Ninth Division's passionate, sweat-drenched, and shout-filled atmosphere, the Third Division's barracks were currently permeated by an elegant, languid, and even slightly decadent ambiance.
The afternoon sun spilled lazily across the spacious courtyard of the Third Division.
This place had originally been arranged by Gin Ichimaru to be somewhat cold and empty—what he called a "wabi-sabi" style.
The yard used to be deliberately decorated with dull-colored plants, and a mysterious, lingering chill had hung in the air year-round.
But now, the place had completely transformed.
The original stone-paved ground was now covered with a soft carpet.
The perimeter of the courtyard was lined with potted plants freshly transplanted from the flower market, blooming with vibrant blossoms.
Roses, lilies, and tulips swayed in the breeze, their colorful petals exuding a rich fragrance.
Right in the center of the courtyard sat an exquisite European-style long table draped with a pristine white lace tablecloth.
An expensive bone china tea set gleamed in the sunlight, while the aroma of black tea mingled with the sweetness of various desserts from the World of the Living, wafting freely through the air.
Rojuro Otoribashi, who preferred to be called Rose, was dressed in a white shirt with gorgeous ruffled edges. With his eyes closed, he gently strummed a uniquely shaped acoustic guitar from the World of the Living.
The melody flowed from his fingertips like running water—a classical folk song tinged with melancholy yet incredibly gentle.
The notes danced amidst the scent of flowers and tea, seemingly capable of soothing the deepest wounds in a person's heart.
Around the long table, the Seated Officers and ordinary members of the Third Division sat rather uneasily on soft chairs.
Steaming black tea and delicate pastries were set before them, but hardly anyone touched them.
Lieutenant Izuru Kira kept his head bowed low, letting his blonde bangs obscure most of his face, making his expression unreadable.
However, his tightly clenched, trembling hands around his teacup, along with the aura of gloom and self-blame radiating from him, laid bare his inner torment.
Ever since the incident at Sokyoku Hill concluded, Izuru Kira had fallen into a deep pit of self-loathing.
Captain Gin Ichimaru, the man he had sworn to follow, turned out to be a hidden traitor, and he had been completely oblivious.
He felt that he was not only a deceived fool but a sinner who had betrayed the righteous cause of the Seireitei.
If it weren't for the severe shortage of personnel right now, he would have considered resigning in disgrace or even atoning with his life.
Strum—
As the final note slowly dissipated into the air, Rojuro opened his eyes.
He gently set the guitar aside, picked up the black tea in front of him, and took a sip, a look of pure intoxication washing over his face.
"Ah, as expected. Only in the company of beautiful music and blooming flowers can the mellow richness of Darjeeling tea be perfectly brought out."
Setting down his teacup, Rojuro's gaze swept over the still-apprehensive squad members, and he offered a faint smile.
"Everyone, there's no need to be so tense. Music is meant to be appreciated, and desserts are meant to be enjoyed. If you just sit there like wooden stumps, it would be the greatest disservice to this beautiful afternoon."
The squad members exchanged uncertain glances.
Although the captain had spoken, who could truly be in the mood to enjoy afternoon tea in a division that had just experienced such a massive betrayal?
Seeming to see right through their thoughts, Rojuro elegantly crossed his legs and sighed.
"I know what you're thinking."
"On my first day back, I reviewed the various files of the Third Division and inspected the layout of the barracks."
"I must say, that Captain Ichimaru not only had major flaws in his character, but his aesthetic taste was also quite disagreeable."
He pointed to a few withered, yellowing weeds in the corner of the courtyard that had yet to be removed. "Cold, gloomy, and reeking of calculation and concealment."
"He turned the entire Third Division into a sunless den. Living in such a dreadful artistic atmosphere, how could your minds not become twisted and suppressed?"
Hearing Rojuro evaluate their former captain so mercilessly, the squad members' expressions shifted.
Izuru Kira's body gave a violent jolt, and he buried his head even lower.
"Lieutenant Kira."
He suddenly called out Izuru Kira by name.
"Sir!" Izuru Kira shot up like a startled bird, nearly spilling his tea all over himself.
"Captain, what are your orders!"
Looking at his panicked and uneasy demeanor, Rojuro shook his head helplessly.
He reached out a hand, gesturing for Kira to sit down.
"Kira, do you know why I'm hosting this tea party?"
"I am afraid I don't understand," Izuru Kira replied in a low voice.
Rojuro stood up, walked behind Izuru Kira, and gently rested his hands on his shoulders, causing Kira's body to instantly tense up.
"I've heard about your Zanpakuto, Wabisuke. Its ability doubles the weight of whatever it strikes, ultimately forcing the enemy to bow their head in confession under the unbearable pressure."
"It is an ability filled with a sense of compassion and salvation, perfectly suiting your kind nature."
"But Kira, your current state makes it look as though you've been struck by your own Wabisuke."
Rojuro's fingers pressed slightly into Kira's shoulders, as if trying to massage away that invisible burden. "You've taken Gin Ichimaru's betrayal, the humiliation suffered by the Third Division, and the fault of failing to notice the conspiracy..."
"...and turned it all into an internal burden, forcing it onto your own soul."
"Captain... I... I really don't know what to do," Kira replied, his voice trembling as the words struck a chord, bringing him to the verge of tears. "I trusted Captain Ichimaru so much, yet he..."
This sentiment echoed the inner thoughts of many squad members.
Some were even filled with guilt when they remembered being ordered around by Gin Ichimaru to guard various streets against the so-called Ryoka, only to realize they had actually been lured away to lower the defenses of other squads.
"Shh."
Rojuro interrupted him gently, pulling a pristine white handkerchief from his breast pocket and handing it to Kira.
"Kira, listen to me. Music is composed of countless notes."
"Even a grand symphony will sometimes have a few dissonant sounds."
"If those notes were intentionally played wrong by the performer, then the fault does not lie with the piece, nor with the audience who listened earnestly, but with the performer who harbored malicious intent."
He turned around to face all the members of the Third Division, his eyes filled with nothing but boundless tolerance and understanding.
"Gin Ichimaru was a terrible performer who played the wrong notes. He deceived your ears and tarnished this piece of music."
"But that doesn't mean the symphony of the Third Division is ruined."
"I can understand your sorrow and self-blame. A century ago, when Hirako and I were pushed into the abyss by someone we trusted, we also felt like we couldn't breathe, just as you do now."
His words prompted the squad members present to raise their heads one by one.
Looking at this blonde captain, they felt for the first time that the man standing before them was not just a superior officer looking down from on high, but a survivor who had endured the exact same agony they were experiencing.
"However, pain cannot be overwritten with more pain."
"Blindly wallowing in the darkness of the past will only allow the venom to spread deeper into your veins."
Rojuro picked up the guitar once more and casually strummed a few cheerful chords.
"From today onward, I will take over the conductor's baton for the Third Division."
"I will use gorgeous art, warm sunlight, and the most beautiful music to rewrite the movement of the Third Division."
He looked at Izuru Kira and flashed a radiant smile. "So, Kira, stop keeping your head down. Your Wabisuke is meant to make enemies repent, not to punish yourself."
"Lift your head, look at these blooming flowers, and taste these sweet pastries."
"If your heart still aches, then try listening to my next song."
"The name of this song is—'Rebirth'."
As Rojuro Otoribashi strummed the strings once more, a brisk and hopeful melody drifted through the courtyard.
Izuru Kira wiped his tears, looking at the blonde captain playing the guitar in the sunlight, and then at his colleagues around him, whose eyes were slightly red but whose expressions had gradually relaxed.
He took a deep breath, picked up the now lukewarm black tea in front of him, and took a gentle sip.
The tea was sweet, carrying a faint floral fragrance that warmed him all the way to his heart.