Soft rain pattered beyond the window.
It was the first spring rain in Soul Society. Higashino Shuuichi sat alone in the living room of his place in West Rukongai District 2, saying nothing.
He'd already checked in with Retsu.
Thanks to how much harder Shuuichi had become to, well, "cut," Retsu had found fresh delight in him—every session trying new ways to cut him to death. So she'd grown steadily more relaxed about him lately. Aside from still forbidding him to strike out on his own and take a captaincy, getting a little extra personal leave really wasn't hard.
Only, when he asked for leave yesterday, Retsu added, "I'll be waiting for you to come back." It sounded suspiciously like a flag.
He'd given Sōsuke his reason, too.
Sōsuke's attitude… left Shuuichi a bit slack-jawed.
"You're going to Hell?"
"Yes, Sōsuke-sama. I want to temper myself there."
"You're still too hasty. With the nobles. With yourself."
"Maybe it's just who I am, Sōsuke-sama."
"Mm. Then go. Gin just requested to join my division. I was going to loop you in."
"Better not, Sōsuke-sama. For now I should keep some distance from you in front of Gin."
"As you please."
"Um—Sōsuke-sama… Hell holds shinigami and Hollows whose reiatsu is… too strong."
"I know."
"With my current strength, surviving in there… might be difficult…"
"Mm. Shuuichi, you know this—I rate you highly. Always have."
"…"
And that was the end of Shuuichi's little "shear some wool off Sōsuke" plan.
He'd figured, after all his faithful service, that Sōsuke would at least use the Hōgyoku to give him a little boost.
It's just Hollowfication, right? With the Hōgyoku in hand and a mountain of Kasumiooji data, how hard could it be to Hollowfy me?
But Sōsuke was all oilstone—no uptake—clearly curious to see Shuuichi perform solo.
As for everyone else—Rangiku, Soi Fon, Kisaragi Shūsuke, Gin, Kensei, Yoruichi, Ginjirō, Sato Yōko—anyone still close—Shuuichi pushed them all off with the same flimsy excuse: "Soul Society is big; I want to wander alone for a bit."
Hell was unknown. Even with the Kabuma artifact and the Spirit King's nail shard as his safety net of "infinite regeneration," he couldn't promise how long he'd be gone—or that nothing would go wrong.
For him, danger was never in how to reach Hell. Even if the Kabuma weren't in ruins—if they were in peak Tsunayashiro-like splendor—he was confident he could get a ticket.
Just play errand boy, pledge to a boss—he knew the script.
The danger—the uncertainty—was always this: after meeting his objectives in Hell, how to get out clean.
According to Kabuma Sayako—the girl kneeling under the Kabuma estate—Maki Kurando had gone because a faint shard of the Spirit King was in him.
Kurando couldn't even last half a day and fled in disgrace. The only reason he borrowed Hell's power afterward was the brand some Hollow in Hell left on him.
But the Kabuma's original design for truly returning Hell's sins as reishi through the shinigami "medium" back into Soul Society was different.
The best way was to defeat that sinner in Hell itself—then, using the Kabuma artifact, the Zanpakutō Seyabasa, carve a vow-like divine sigil into them.
Done right, the power from Hell wouldn't run wild like Kurando's—wouldn't be uncontrollable and ravenously invasive.
When Shuuichi heard that, he realized he'd been "had." Whether or not he'd asked for Seyabasa, it would have ended up in his hands anyway.
The only difference was whether, like Kurando, he'd be expected to return it to Kabuma Sayako after coming back.
But Sayako's body was already bound up by Hell through forced communion; she could barely move—might pass any day. Even if Shuuichi didn't return it, there wouldn't be much trouble.
Still, he wasn't shameless enough to walk it back on the spot. He'd already secured what he came for. Anything extra didn't matter.
He let out a long breath.
On the table lay Seyabasa—shaped more like a graver than a sword.
No doubt: it was an extremely special Zanpakutō. Shuuichi even felt "Zanpakutō" wasn't the right word for it.
Consider two other revealed "artifacts" in Soul Society—the Ise clan's Shinken Hakkyōken and the Tsunayashiro clan's Kyūten Kyōkoku (Nine Heavens Mirror Valley)—both heirloom blades passed down generations, bound to no single master, each with their own terrifying quirks.
If two of the Five Great Houses had them, did the others, too?
He gripped Seyabasa in his left hand. That question could wait.
Attuning to Seyabasa was easy—maybe because Sayako had already primed it.
"Watase Higan, Seyabasa! (Cross the Mortal Shore, Seyabasa!)"
At his whisper, petals of silver unfolded from the hilt like a flower. They whirled out before him, sketching the outline of a gate.
The only piece left in Shuuichi's hand—the hilt—fit perfectly as the gate's handle.
He had only to push gently inward, and the gate would open to him.
In a normal Shikai, he wouldn't need to open the door himself. Those who had made compacts with Seyabasa in the past would step out to fight for its current bearer.
Those "past existences" didn't need to still exist—only to have left traces behind.
If he needed a clearer metaphor, "heroic spirits" fit best.
There was a price. Of course there was.
Whether communing with the spirits, calling them out, or sustaining them in battle—it all burned the user's lifespan.
Just like the Tsunayashiro blade, Kyūten Kyōkoku.
The saving grace: calling heroic spirits cost years.
But Shuuichi going over there himself did not.
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