Shiki Mirai wore a defeated expression, his usual cold demeanor discarded in front of this old friend.
"Hahaha! 'Flash Goddess'?" Yoruichi threw her hands on her hips and laughed from the high ground, her violet ponytail swaying in the sunset.
"Sounds kinda intimidating, doesn't it? But I'm still far from living up to that title!"
Her face said otherwise—eyes scrunched in glee, beaming from ear to ear. She clearly loved the nickname.
After the laughter faded, Yoruichi vanished with a blur and landed lightly atop the tallest tree on the hill.
There she stood, silhouetted against the horizon, where the sun was melting into orange clouds and a sea of crimson light.
After a few quiet seconds, she glanced down at the base of the tree, where Mirai had just caught up.
The playful smirk on her face softened as she casually tossed the manuscript down toward him.
"Here. Yours."
Mirai quickly caught it, immediately checking it over before stuffing it safely into his robes. Only then did he finally exhale in relief.
But confusion quickly replaced his tension. He looked up at Yoruichi, puzzled by her sudden generosity.
Yoruichi noticed the look and paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words.
"Listen, Mirai." Her tone grew serious. "Next time… don't write your book inside the 2nd Division. That place… isn't exactly 'safe.'"
"Huh?" Mirai blinked. The 2nd Division? With her and Urahara there? How could it not be safe?
Yoruichi furrowed her brows, visibly frustrated.
Yes, it was her division, but in truth, it was also a web of noble family influence.
Besides the Shihōin clan, the division was filled with personnel from other noble houses—like the Fēng family, the Ōmaeda clan, and others.
The moment she touched that manuscript, she could sense from the lingering Reishi and the unique atmosphere it contained that it was tied to Mirai's power. Deeply.
And Mirai's meteoric rise in spiritual pressure over the past two years… hadn't gone unnoticed.
There were surely other eyes in the 2nd Division. Eyes sent by nobles with agendas.
Not because the Shihōin had lost control, but because… Mirai wasn't their person. He wasn't from the Shihōin, or any noble house at all.
If someone wanted to investigate him discreetly, as long as they didn't cross certain lines, even she, as captain, couldn't openly interfere.
"In short," she said at last, carefully avoiding specifics, "find a new place to write next time. When a room in the 2nd Division suddenly turns into a spiritual vacuum, that's going to draw attention. Got it?"
Mirai froze—then realization slammed into him.
Right. That machine he used to isolate his Reishi—
From a Shinigami's perception, it was like a sudden black hole inside the 2nd Division barracks!
And then it all clicked.
Yoruichi's "snatching" of the manuscript… her dramatic chase… she'd done it all to create a cover story. To shield him.
So no one else would dare dig deeper.
"…Thanks." Mirai looked up at her silhouette, still bathed in the orange afterglow of the sun, and offered a rare, heartfelt thank you.
"Hmph~" Yoruichi snorted lightly, brushing it off.
The very next instant, his vision warped slightly—space twisted around him.
When he blinked, her mischievous face was suddenly right in front of him.
Their noses were barely ten centimeters apart. He could see himself reflected in her golden pupils.
"Good. Just be sure to use that gratitude~" she said with a warm, almost teasing smile. "So hurry up and get stronger, Shiki Mirai."
The warmth in her breath hit his cheeks. He stood frozen.
By the time he came back to his senses, she was gone.
Mirai remained rooted to the spot for a long time.
Then, wordlessly, he turned and walked toward the 9th Division.
On the way back, Shiki Mirai couldn't help but reflect.
He'd been careless… again. Too short-sighted.
He used to get away with writing in secret because no one cared about a bottom-ranking officer.
Back then, he could just run off to the Forest of Blades, release his Shikai, finish writing in one explosive burst of speed, and sneak back unnoticed.
But now? Now, just walking back into Seireitei, he could feel the eyes watching him from every shadow and rooftop.
Tch. Just like they say—fame invites trouble, pigs get slaughtered when they grow fat…
If I want to do anything in peace now, I'd need Aizen's Kyōka Suigetsu, to trick everyone into seeing what I want.
Or Yoruichi-level Shunpo, to shake off every last one of these tailing pests and drop them in Rukongai!
Power… it's still not enough.
Agitated, he returned to the 9th Division barracks—but didn't go to his own room.
Instead, he headed straight for the office of the 3rd Seat, Yamasue Tetsu.
SLAM—!
He shoved the door open. Sure enough, Yamaoka was right where he always was—sitting like a statue behind a desk buried in paperwork, stamp in hand, hammering it down in a steady rhythm. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. A one-man stamping machine.
Mirai stared at his broad, silent back, then took a deep breath—and slammed the door shut behind him with a loud snap.
He stepped up behind the man and declared, heavy and solemn:
"Tetsu! I'm publishing a book!"
The rhythmic stamping stopped immediately.
A few seconds of silence passed.
Then, the soft sound of a brush being set gently into its stand.
A chair dragged slightly as Yamasue Tetsu slowly turned to face him—hulking, unmoving, and expressionless. His face might as well have been cast in iron.
Those flat, unblinking eyes locked on Mirai.
"You know," he said, voice as calm as if he were reciting squad regulations, "what the process for publishing a book is?"
Mirai immediately dropped to the tatami mat in front of him, legs crossed, posture humble.
"Please teach me."
Tetsu raised one finger, and began listing:
"First, you'll need to submit the manuscript to our captain, Muguruma Kensei, for review. Of course, given Captain Muguruma's personality and the way he… indulges you, that step can probably be waved through."
"Second—and this is the key part—contact the printing facility." His tone grew a shade heavier.
"You'll need them to customize a printing press specifically for your book. That means you have to convince them to give up one of their machines. And delay all other orders."
"The largest printing press in Seireitei… belongs to the Ōmaeda family."
He stared at Mirai.
"Do you have any connections there?"
…