Squad Five, Captain's Office.
"Yo."
As soon as Shigū Miya stepped inside, he saw Ichigo sitting on the sofa, waving at him.
"Brother Kurosaki, it's been… a month, right?"
"…At most a week," Ichigo deadpanned, dropping his hand. "But you look like you've changed more than a month's worth."
Shigū sat on the sofa opposite him and poured himself a cup of water from the pot on the table. "I owe it to your suggestion. Me and the 'other me' are getting along decently. Cleared the trial in a day… I didn't even know old man Zangetsu could make that kind of face."
He bared his teeth at the memory. "After that though, I got worked so hard I thought my bones would crack."
"That can't be helped…" Shigū took a sip. "Because most Bankai forms are so drastically different, it usually takes over ten years to make them battle-ready. Catching up to someone else's decade of effort in just a few days—you should thank your Zanpakutō."
"Right back at you—you've mastered Bankai too. And lately you keep heading to Squad Two to spar with that cold-faced woman."
"No, I still haven't used my Bankai on anyone."
"What?"
Ichigo blinked. "Then why are you going to Squad Two?"
"To grind my hakuda and shunpo, to raise the completion of my technique… I've also just grasped a new move. But it demands very high physical specs—and luck. You can't just pop it on command in a fight. So I'm looking for ways to raise the trigger rate, to use it when I want."
Black Flash.
The damage spike on that move was terrifying—more like a genius's flash of insight, or a particle-collision event that happened by chance. The trigger rate was abysmal. Strictly speaking, even trying on purpose, you might fail ten thousand times without a single success. There was a huge luck component. And if the power really did spike to the upper bounds, the burden on the soul would be immense.
Right now Shigū was doing two things: leveraging his "+1000% physical growth" buff to raise his body's ceiling, and eliminating the luck factor as much as possible, so he could apply it by will in combat.
After lots of private testing, the former was going smoothly. As for the latter—once you catch the "feel," your success rate rises drastically.
And to raise that "feel," there were two roads:
One, let battle gradually awaken your instincts and time that god-touched moment by intuition.
Two, raise your baseline mastery of zanjutsu, hakuda, and kidō—especially hakuda and kidō. If you reach that uncanny, master-level realm, you can "hear thunder in silence" and turn decay into wonder.
Thankfully, the two paths weren't mutually exclusive. That gave Shigū some confidence in deploying Black Flash in earnest. Progress was slow but steady—already much better than relying on blind luck.
Besides…
"If I have to, I do have a way to… cheat," he thought. He liked to keep a card up his sleeve. After "Seven Flash" came "Only Flash," after "Only Flash" came Shikai, then a second Shikai. And once people learned about those, he'd need a new back-hand.
He wasn't as greedy—or self-sabotaging—as Urahara. Openings vanish in an instant. In battle all you need is one move—one that kills the enemy.
Likewise, even if Black Flash looked picky to use, Shigū had special ways to land it for real. For example… by leveraging his brand-new Bankai.
But a crutch is still a crutch. If he didn't fix the drawbacks, it was poison to drink when thirsty—useless for long-term growth.
"This 'new technique'… it's not another over-the-top thing like 'Only Flash,' is it?" Honestly, Ichigo still had no idea how the guy kept inventing these weird, monstrously strong moves. Double-incantation, added chants—sure, those he could accept. But "Seven Flash," "Only Flash," and even "Translucent Dragon Scales" were all distinct, signature arts.
And now, after mastering Bankai as well, his friend claimed he'd learned a new move. No way that was simple. Ichigo had a fuzzy hunch: it was stronger than "Seven Flash," maybe even "Only Flash."
So when Shigū waved a hand and said, "Just a simple application of kidō-reiatsu," Ichigo didn't believe even the punctuation.
"Anyway—if you're pouring yourself into that, what about Bankai? Aren't you going to get used to it?"
"Oh, no need to practice that."
"…," Ichigo stared. The man's tone might as well have been, "Do you practice drinking water?" It was so obvious to him he had no words. He'd nearly died getting fluent with his Bankai—felt his bones crushed into powder. Meanwhile this guy spent his days in Squad Two sparring with a girl…
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
The door opened. Aizen walked in with Hinamori at his side.
"Sensei."
"Sensei."
Both rose and greeted him.
"Since everyone's here, let's get to the point." Aizen moved to the desk and looked out at the deepening night. "As you've probably heard, Urahara Kisuke, Shihōin Yoruichi, and your human acquaintance—the Substitute Shinigami, Inoue Orihime—showed up at White Road Gate."
"Although Urahara is riddled with suspicion, our aims are practically aligned—we both want Kuchiki Rukia to survive."
"On my advice, the Captain-Commander sent captains to drive them off in advance. Next, barring surprises, they'll use Kūkaku Shiba's cannon to attack from the air."
"I won't be wrong about that—there's only one way."
"And the reason to force them onto that path is to make open use of them to disrupt internal stability. Otherwise, with captains holding their sectors and Rukia imprisoned in the First Division's underground gaol, guarded personally by the Captain-Commander, there's no good window for a rescue before the execution."
"Sensei," Shigū cut in. "Even if Urahara's group punches straight into the core of Seireitei—so long as the Captain-Commander doesn't budge, we still don't have many options."
"Correct. That's why we must divert the captains' attention before the execution." Aizen smiled toward the docile girl beside him. "The invaders will attract some attention. We'll sow division among the rest."
"It's not a subtle plan—but launched two days before the execution, few will find truth amid rising chaos."
"Our goal is to keep the number of captains at the execution to no more than half—thus weakening the guard and boosting our chance to save Rukia. To do that, we need Hinamori to… sacrifice."
Hinamori really couldn't smile, even if this helped her captain. Aizen's plan was to pen a suicide note in her name, then stage a scene where she "discovered Ichimaru Gin's plot" and was killed by him. That would sic her childhood friend Hitsugaya Tōshirō on Ichimaru.
That way, two captains would ignore the invading ryoka, and Gin would be forced to make more "mistakes." In effect Hitsugaya would collect evidence and obstruct whatever tricks Gin had planned for the execution—maybe even ruin them. Two birds, one stone.
"But how do we fake it…? I don't think we can fool Unohana-san," Ichigo worried.
"Don't worry. My Zanpakutō—Kyōka Suigetsu—is an illusion type. Its ability is 'Complete Hypnosis'—as the name says, it can fully confuse the five senses," Aizen patted his sword.
"What? Captain Aizen's Zanpakutō isn't a water-type? And its ability isn't 'fog reflex causing the enemy to hack each other'…?" Hinamori blanched.
"Sorry, Hinamori. I spread that to avoid gossip—this ability is dangerous, like the eleventh division's prejudice against kidō-type swords. As a captain, I didn't want to lose the others' trust."
"But now I can't keep hiding it. After how hard Shigū and Kurosaki have trained, to keep them in the dark would be unfair."
Aizen's grave face cowed her; her lips moved but no words came.
"Sensei, we'll keep it secret. After we walk out, you're still a water-type, and I'm still a 'flash-type,'" Shigū said.
"Yeah—we won't tell a soul… Wait—what 'type' did you say you were?" Ichigo muttered, ignored by Shigū, who declared:
"Even if it got out, it wouldn't matter. Sensei's character is noble—everyone knows it. Compared to Ichimaru, who looks shady at a glance, anyone would believe Sensei's the good man."
"If anyone calls you a fork-tongued sophist because of an illusion ability, that just shows how shallow they are."
"Life is full of lies and false faces; only by seeing through them can one be truly wise."
"A man with such a power is precisely a sage seeking truth."
"Right. Sensei's taught me so much. If anyone calls you a spouter of twisted logic, I'll beat them senseless," Ichigo vowed.
"Captain Aizen, I'll always support you!" Hinamori, too, rallied—and let go of the ability issue.
"You three…" Aizen adjusted his glasses, emotion shining in his eyes. "As you see, Urahara's group is just three. After Hinamori's 'death,' we're also three. Against the behemoth of the Gotei 13 we're gnats. But don't fear, don't waver. Follow the plan. Advance and retreat together."
"Before us—there are no enemies."
The three teacher-and-students shared a smile. A fearless aura rolled off them, giving Hinamori a profound calm.
She simply couldn't imagine these three losing—to anyone.
…
The next day. First Division, main conference hall.
Every captain—and vice-captain—was summoned.
"…Given the opponent is the former head of the Research & Development Bureau and may wield unpredictable means, each squad will heighten alert to wartime standards. Report anomalies to the old man at once and forward intelligence to the Twelfth—Captain Kurotsuchi must be informed, lest he be blindsided."
Thud.
Yamamoto Genryūsai's cane struck the floor—meeting adjourned.
"Dismissed."
Hitsugaya, brows knit, turned to go. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aizen and Ichimaru pass each other—exchanging words he could just make out.
"Happy now?" Aizen.
"What's this all of a sudden, Captain Aizen?" Gin.
"In any case, don't come within half a step of Squad Five. Hinamori is innocent." Aizen.
"My, so unwelcome? But innocence… that's not really my concern, is it? Her fate's in your hands, Captain Aizen. Still, too late now, either way—that child… has no way to regret," Gin.
At Hinamori's name, Hitsugaya pricked up. He started after Aizen—only to be cut off by a piercing shriek.
"?!"
"!?"
"That direction… the vice-captains' room? Damn!"
A terrible premonition slammed him. He and Aizen sprinted for the sound.
"What happened?!"
Rounding the corner, they found Isane collapsed on the floor, too terrified to speak. Hitsugaya demanded answers, eyes raking the scene—then looked up.
A body was nailed to the East Grand Sacred Wall.
Her own Zanpakutō pierced her chest—pinning her to the polished cliff face. Life gone. Blood stained the wall and ran down her body, drying before it reached the ground. The girl could only be called a "corpse," like a piece of air-dried jerky—yet those vacant eyes still looked down on the captains and vice-captains gathering below, as if to ask: why didn't you save me?
The sight sent a chill through them.
"That's… Squad Five's… Hinamori Momo?"
Soi Fon hissed at the brutality. Unohana moved on instinct to check the body—then a killing cold, volcanic reiatsu flared and drove her back.
As if to say—no one approaches. Deny me and I'll cut you down.
The aether warped under pressure. Hitsugaya's spiritual power swelled—ground buckled underfoot, a disc of spiritons whirling out, a storm rising. The air itself seemed to collapse under a pall; invisible gravity almost crushed the vice-captains present.
"Captain…!"
"Ah…!"
"My body…!"
"?!"
Figures who were "giants" in the rank-and-file's eyes turned pale and drenched in cold sweat, as if strength were draining out of them—no need for a blow; soon they'd be helpless. That was the gap between captain and vice-captain.
But Hitsugaya had never lorded it for authority. If he did now, he'd lost almost all reason—his emotions spiked to the limit.
Suddenly he flickered and, just as suddenly, reappeared—now cradling the long-dead girl. He'd taken her down.
From his kneel, the tremor in his arms made it clear how carefully he'd done it. Even that out-of-control reiatsu had been reined in—lest he mar her body.
"Hina—Hinamori…!"
Hands hovering, he tried to draw out the blade in her chest, failed, and froze—face blank with helplessness, head empty.
"Captain Hitsugaya, she's gone. Please hand me the body… I may still find traces the killer left behind."
Unohana's voice was stern yet grieving. Matsumoto Rangiku pushed through, face etched with worry.
"Captain…!"
They meant well—but to Hitsugaya, meaning had vanished. Feeling others draw near, he snapped and roared:
"Back off! All of you, get back!"
"Captain, calm down!"
"Take one more step… and I'll kill you."
"!?"
Unohana stayed Rangiku with a raised hand. Truthfully, she didn't need to—Rangiku was already frozen. Hitsugaya's words hadn't been a "roar"—they'd sounded like work talk: serious, level. He meant it.
Unohana sighed, helped Isane up, and was about to ask for specifics—when a light, drawling voice lamented:
"How pitiful.
"So popular, so sweet and clever—such a lovable girl, dead just like that… What a cruel world. Always the good girls who get hurt."
"The one who could do such a thing is harsher than the world itself."
"Who could it be… So hard to guess. If only we'd seen through someone's true face sooner, this wouldn't have happened."
All eyes turned. Perched on a wooden rail under the eaves, Ichimaru Gin lounged with a grin—wholly out of place on a powder keg of a scene.
"How ill-timed," Kyōraku muttered under his hat brim.
"He's doing it on purpose," Ukitake said grimly.
Even a fool could see he was provoking Hitsugaya. Though he lamented and even tried on a face of regret, the smiling eyes held no tension—only biting irony.
"Captain Ichimaru…"
Aizen looked like he meant to shield his vice-captain—but Hitsugaya surged to his feet, murder in his eyes.
"Was it you, Ichimaru?!"
"What are you saying all of a sudden, Captain Hitsugaya~" Gin's flinch was theatrical.
"You—!"
Those lines—he'd just heard them in Aizen's exchange with Gin. And "If only we'd seen through someone's true face sooner"—that dredged up Gin's slippery performance yesterday after the ryoka were driven off, the one that had left Hitsugaya unsettled.
In a flash, he saw an answer. The reason for that unease. Aizen's warning to Gin. The way Gin now seemed to savor his handiwork.
The threads all pointed at Gin. In normal times, you'd gather proof first. Right now, Hitsugaya couldn't care less. As the thought "Hinamori was likely killed by this man" took shape, the last thread of his reason snapped.
"AAAAAH! I'll kill you, Ichimaru—!"
The scabbard dispersed into spiritons; the ice-flooded blade rose in his hands.
He was ready to do anything for revenge.
"Bankai—!"
Thwack!
Just as the tidal reiatsu was about to whirl into a blizzard that swallowed the hall, a blow to the back of his neck put Hitsugaya out cold. As the captains lowered their hands from their faces, they saw the old man with the cane beside the fallen boy—and realized what had happened.
"C-Captain-Commander?!"
"So many of you—and you can't restrain a single captain. Must I do everything myself?" Yamamoto barked, leaving captains speechless and vice-captains mute.
When he'd finished, Kyōraku chuckled weakly. "Cool your head, old man. We wanted to avoid escalation, and anyway this is First Division turf—in every sense it wasn't our place."
"Enough. What is this?"
Yamamoto's eyes cracked open, solemn gaze sweeping from the corpse and the unconscious Hitsugaya to the smiling Ichimaru, then fixing on Unohana.
"Isane?"
"Ah? Y-yes!" Isane flinched and stammered out what happened. "We gathered at the vice-captains' room, but Hinamori-fukutaichō never arrived. We were discussing how it was unlike her to be late. I went to the restroom and when I came out, I saw her…"
"So she was already like that when you came out," Unohana said, brow knotted.
"Yes! I swear I'm not lying!"
"I can corroborate—Kotetsu-fukutaichō's telling the truth," Renji raised a hand, face grave. "She was gone less than half a minute before she screamed. At that time and distance, there's no way we'd have missed any ruckus."
"I agree," Kira added, glancing complicatedly at Gin. "Kotetsu-fukutaichō and Hinamori were close. No motive. And she's Squad Four—harshly put… she lacks the ability."
"So the time of death… was earlier?" Soi Fon's eyes slid to Aizen. "Aizen, anything to say?"
Feeling everyone's gaze, Aizen looked stricken, still disbelieving. His mood was plain: complex, heavy.
"Hinamori… worked so hard. Last night she said she had a report to deliver to First Division after her shift. I didn't think much of it. This morning I learned she never came back. I was worried, but thought maybe she stayed somewhere else and would attend the meeting. So I came."
"Then during the meeting, I heard the commotion and rushed over with everyone."
"I'm ashamed. As her captain I was careless. If I'd just sent an e-letter to check in, maybe I'd have noticed something. Maybe… she wouldn't have died."
"It's my fault."
Yamamoto gave Soi Fon a look; she nodded. "I've recorded your statement. Until I uncover the truth, you aren't to leave First Division."
"Understood. I'll cooperate." Aizen seemed to sink into self-blame; being confined actually seemed to ease him.
"And you, Ichimaru…"
"Spare me. I didn't do anything—do I have to be detained too?" Gin lifted his hands, hapless.
"Cut the act. You're not afraid, not really… But unlike Hitsugaya-taichō, I investigate before I strike. If this is tied to you, your posturing won't save you."
"So you won't restrict me, then? In that case… Izuru, let's go. There's still so much to do—we can't dawdle."
"Hold," Yamamoto said as Gin moved to leave with Kira. Gin paused and looked back. But the old man ignored him and addressed everyone, his cane slamming down hard enough to dent the floor.
"This is a wartime special order."
"All personnel are permitted to wear—and release—their Zanpakutō at all times."
"In special cases, you may leave your sector and act at your discretion. But inform First Division at once."
"One more: check in regularly with your squads, your neighbors. Do not fall out of contact without cause."
"That is all."
"Yes, sir!"
After the dismissal, everyone scattered to act. Aizen watched Hinamori's body carried away and seemed lost in thought. After a while, he walked toward the room where Hitsugaya lay. Under restriction, he could only leave the autopsy and forensics to others.
It couldn't be helped.
-------
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