Time moved forward.
When Rukongai erupted again with incidents of shinigami Hollowfication, Seireitei snapped to attention and rushed out the first investigation team.
It was led by the 3rd Division taichō, Rōjūrō.
Because there was past experience handling Hollowfied shinigami, Seireitei only sent Rōjūrō and his fukutaichō, Chikane. By prior patterns, only shinigami strengthened by Bakkōtō posed any real threat to an average taichō. The patrol squads stationed in Rukongai were never strong—and without Bakkōtō, they couldn't possibly endanger a captain-class opponent.
Only Kisuke frowned when the notice arrived.
He felt deeply uneasy about the Central 46's deployment.
Because only he—the one who handled the follow-up—knew the Kasumiooji incident hadn't been simple. The "Soul King's heart" that Masasuke spoke of was never found; the number of Bakkōtō cores clashed with Masasuke's confession—off by a factor of five. And the true cause of Hollowfication remained unknown.
He had only scraped up scraps of clues: for example, how Kumoi Gyoukaku had been seen in the far-northern Zaraki District at Rukongai's edge; how the Zanpakutō in the hands of the old expedition captain, Sengoku Ryū, had actually been a Bakkōtō; and how Shuuichi, when asked by Kumoi to go to Zaraki, had simply banked on the Kasumiooji clan being tightly watched and never went—choosing instead to quietly see to 4th Division routines… and so on.
Kisuke had planned to file a deliberately "airheaded" report to lull the culprit—make them relax—then have the Onmitsukidō stand ready to pounce.
He sent the report. But the one in the shadows sank without a ripple.
The Central 46, muddle-brained, approved the silly conclusion that "Hollowfied shinigami were caused by a faulty evolution of Bakkōtō."
Even today, the new communiqués from the Central 46 chalked the fresh wave of Hollowfication up to stray Bakkōtō cores missed during the Kasumiooji rebellion.
Only then did Kisuke grasp the serious mistake he'd made.
After he decided the culprit wouldn't act for a while, he had filed a second report explaining why his first report had been full of holes.
That was fine, in itself. The problem was: after he sent it, the Central 46 neither punished him nor responded at all.
It should have set off alarms at once. But it coincided with Kirio's ascension to the Royal Guard and Kisuke's recommendation as the 12th's new taichō—alongside his push to found the Technology Development Bureau.
Everything stacked up, and he never caught the detail.
Looking back, his second explanatory report may never have reached the Central 46.
A heavy dread settled over him. He summoned his fukutaichō, Hiyori, and told her to get to Rōjūrō at once—if anything looked wrong, signal for aid immediately.
Too slow.
Before Hiyori reached the area of Rōjūrō's vanguard, Rōjūrō's unit ran into someone unexpected.
"Huh? Isn't that Sōsuke? What are you doing here? Weren't you taking Shin'ō Academy students to the World of the Living?"
Rōjūrō still hadn't grasped the gravity. Friends with Shinji, he'd always had a good impression of Sōsuke—the mild, attentive fukutaichō who looked after his subordinates.
His fukutaichō, Chikane, flung an arm out to block him.
"Careful, Rōjūrō. Something's off."
An old hand who had watched Rōjūrō enter the 3rd and rise step by step, Chikane had a close bond with him—and was the only fukutaichō in Soul Society who called her taichō by name (another had been "promoted" to captain's assistant thanks to a certain someone).
"No way, Chikane. It's Sōsuke~"
Rōjūrō waved off her worry.
Sōsuke Aizen—come on. Nicest guy ever~
The next instant, Sōsuke smiled and walked toward Rōjūrō. "Rōjūrō, for a taichō, you are unforgivably negligent. Your own fukutaichō can see it, yet you're this careless."
He bled a hint of reiatsu.
Every investigating shinigami behind Rōjūrō collapsed.
Bodies hewed neatly in half.
They never even knew what happened.
"What are you doing, Sōsuke!"
Only now did Rōjūrō's easy smile vanish. He squared on Sōsuke.
"Soul Society doesn't need a useless taichō like you. Rather than waste a seat, contribute something before you go. That's all."
Sōsuke pushed up his glasses, as if he'd swatted a few ants.
"Sōsuke, you—" Rōjūrō couldn't fathom it—how Sōsuke had become this.
Chikane, though, understood more than he did. "Hadō 63: Raikōhō (Thunder Roar Cannon)!"
Her strike flashed for Sōsuke's throat.
Cold sweat ran as she watched what came next.
"Do you know what the weak love most?"
Sōsuke caught the roaring bolt in his palm. Lightning crawled across his hand, lighting the same gentle smile he always wore.
"Struggling."
Boom.
His fingers closed lightly; the Raikōhō blew apart in his grasp.
In a sense, she'd "hit" him. The feeling it left was entirely different.
"Hadō—"
Chikane started the next incantation—then shadow fell over her vision.
A single fingertip touched her brow—soft, unhurried.
"See? Struggling~"
"Chikane—no!"
Sōsuke moved too quickly. Rōjūrō had no time to release his Zanpakutō—let alone stop him.
As Chikane felt the finger press to her forehead, her heart went quiet. As if she'd seen her end, she whispered a name inside—her son, Tetsuzaemon.
In the end, what she couldn't release… was him, always shouting about duty and loyalty.
"Seventy-three—Sōren—"
She stubbornly tried to finish the Hadō.
A blade of black—then a pillar of blood.
Even to the last heartbeat, she never managed to release it.
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