Breaking into the Soul Society
Shiraishi landed on a mountaintop.
The moon cast its pale veil across the earth, silver light mingling with the orange glow of a campfire below. Faint silhouettes moved busily about the encampment.
It was the Ōmaeda Gem Company's convoy, transporting ore.
His eyes narrowed. Without moving closer, he tilted his head toward Nie Yinmeng.
"The leader's reiatsu feels like someone at the level of five seated officers combined. Can you really hide from him?"
"Of course," Nie Yinmeng answered without hesitation.
"Good. That cart—see? The largest boxes. They'll be perfect for hiding."
Pointing down at a shadowed wagon, Shiraishi leapt. His blade cut the air in a silent arc as he descended, landing lightly in the dark woods before dashing toward the camp.
The perimeter was bare, tents neatly arranged around a ring of bonfires. In the center stood eighteen carriages. Dozens of guards bustled around them.
Shiraishi slipped through the shadows and entered one of the wagons. Inside, six massive crates were stacked, sealed with a faintly glowing barrier. It wasn't deadly—just a warding seal, likely meant to sound an alarm.
"What do we do?" Nie Yinmeng whispered, her breath warm against his ear.
"I've got it," Shiraishi murmured back. He shifted two crates aside and lifted the last one.
The bottom was missing. The ore it once held had been removed during the day.
He crouched and gestured. Nie Yinmeng followed, squeezing inside. The crate dropped into place, plunging them into suffocating darkness. The world shrank to the sound of each other's breath and heartbeat.
Outside, footsteps and voices rang clearer. The heat pressed in. Shiraishi eventually lifted the box slightly to draw in air, ready to drop it again if anyone approached.
But no one did. The night passed without disturbance.
By dawn, Nie Yinmeng was still crouched silently, her discipline unbroken. Shiraishi silently admitted—this woman's resolve was iron.
The carriage door creaked open.
"The seals are intact."
"Good. Hurry. We need to reach Seireitei quickly."
With that, the convoy moved. The wagon jolted over the rough road.
Half an hour later, a surge of powerful reiatsu rippled ahead—Shirōgane Jidanbō, the guardian of the White Road Gate, his pressure equal to a third seat officer.
The convoy paused, then continued.
Shiraishi measured the reiatsu carefully. Strong, steady. They were through the gate, inside Seireitei. Soon the pressure faded.
Now was their chance.
Shiraishi lifted the crate lid, slipped out, and quietly replaced it. He padded to the door, felt the faint reiatsu of a guard only steps away, then signaled.
He darted out. Nie Yinmeng followed, closing the door behind her. The whole maneuver took less than a heartbeat.
The driver didn't notice, still chatting about where to eat next.
Nie Yinmeng's green eyes swept the walls and rooftops. She adjusted her footing and moved quickly, her wooden clogs clacking softly. Shiraishi followed close behind.
The scenery of identical walls and golden-tiled roofs blurred past, until Nie Yinmeng stopped and raised her hand.
"Over this wall is Ukitake's Yuqian Hall. I can't get too close, or I won't be able to conceal myself."
Shiraishi nodded. He could already feel the deep, weary spiritual pressure not far beyond.
He vaulted the wall with a flash step, darted through a bamboo grove and across a lake garden. Ahead stood a small pavilion, two attendants stationed at the entrance.
He slipped past, pushing aside a bamboo curtain without disturbing them. The scent of herbs filled the air.
Inside, Captain Jūshirō Ukitake lay pale beneath a quilt, his breathing shallow.
Shiraishi knelt beside him and gently pressed his shoulder.
"Cough! Cough!" Ukitake doubled over, wracked with pain.
"Captain Ukitake!"
A blonde girl—Kotetsu Kiyone—rushed in, lifting the curtain. Her eyes widened at the sight of the intruder.
"Who are you?! Stay away from Captain Ukitake!"
Shiraishi raised his hands. "Calm down. I mean no harm."
"Don't lie! Get away from him!"
"Enough, both of you." Ukitake's eyes opened weakly. He coughed into his hand, blood spattering his palm. Despite his frailty, he forced himself upright.
"…Why are you here in Soul Society?"
Shiraishi hesitated. Looking at Ukitake's sickly face, he almost regretted coming. "I shouldn't have disturbed you."
But Ukitake persisted, voice hoarse. "You wouldn't risk coming here unless it was serious. What's happened?"
Shiraishi spoke plainly. "Shiba Kūkaku has been framed and imprisoned by Central 46. I intend to rescue her."
Kiyone and Sentarō exchanged horrified looks.
"Kūkaku… arrested?"
Kiyone quickly explained, kneeling. "Captain, forgive me—I didn't wake you. They say Kūkaku conspired with Captain Shiba Isshin, who defected to the world of the living. They claim letters of treason were found in her home. The judgment has already passed—six thousand years in the Fourth Level of the Muken."
Ukitake's hand shook as he wiped blood from his lips. He knew Kūkaku well. The fiery, blunt woman he remembered was no schemer. She was being used as a scapegoat.
"No… I must appeal to Central 46."
Shiraishi spread his hands. "And with what proof? Do you think they'll admit their mistake and reverse the sentence?"
Ukitake fell silent, torn.
Shiraishi pressed on. "The only way now is for me to infiltrate the Maggot's Nest underground prison myself."
Ukitake's brow furrowed. His nature rejected the idea of violating Soul Society's laws, but the injustice gnawed at him.
Before he could answer, loud banging shook the walls.
"INTRUDERS! Intruders have broken into the Court Guard Squads!"
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