Chapter 194: The Tragic Wish of the Shiba Family
"What do you even know," Kukaku snapped. "What could you possibly understand about the Shiba family. What do the Shinigami have to do with us."
"Please calm down, Kukaku san," Sosuke said. "Getting emotional will not help you."
He adjusted his glasses, watching the fireworks master of Rukongai breathe hard, her expression sharpening into something ferocious.
In that brief exchange, Sosuke had already reached a simple conclusion.
Kukaku was not surprised by their arrival.
If she truly understood what was happening, the moment she saw someone who looked almost identical to Kaien walking beside a captain who was supposed to be dead, she would have reacted differently. Anyone with knowledge would have been stunned.
Kukaku was not one of those people.
That meant Yoruichi had not told her everything.
"I do not know what Shihouin san explained to you in detail," Sosuke said, voice steady, "but there is a basis for cooperation between us, Kukaku san."
"Hah. I have nothing to discuss with Death."
"That is a misunderstanding. I am not a Shinigami in the sense you mean. The power I use is not truly tied to Shinigami. In fact, I faked my death because I despised the Shinigami system itself."
His gaze did not flicker.
"Would you believe me now."
He was not speaking into emptiness. Sosuke knew Urahara would never betray Yoruichi. That loyalty was absolute, and it meant Kisuke would continue feeding Yoruichi whatever she needed.
Which also meant Sosuke had to choose his next words carefully.
He had expected Kisuke's two sided stance. More accurately, Sosuke's actions had been an open conspiracy from the start.
He had shown the ability to create lifelike clones. He had offered cooperation instead of war. From that moment onward, no matter what Kisuke chose, the result would always circle back to the same place.
Cooperate.
The moment Sosuke revealed a clone indistinguishable from the original, it proved he could slip past surveillance, past common sense, and view matters from the height of the Three Realms. Even Kisuke could not tell whether the Sosuke before him was real or not, their spiritual pressure and spirit particles identical.
How do you fight someone when you cannot even confirm your target is real.
Before Kisuke unraveled the clone's mechanism, conflict was impossible.
No one wages a war they are not confident they can win.
So Kisuke had been forced into cooperation, whether he wanted it or not. The Visoreds did not see the trap, but Yoruichi and Kisuke did. Yoruichi's attempt to show she still held trump cards had been crushed the moment her wooden clone appeared, leaving Kisuke to smooth the mess.
Sosuke knew he was not a negotiator.
Or perhaps, when dealing with people who knew him, he simply could not negotiate in the normal sense. He was not the kind of man modern experts could package into clean rhetoric. All he could do was place truth on the table.
Because from any angle, he did not look like a good person.
And he was not.
His views had simply shifted after seeing more worlds, the way a child's taste changes into an adult's without either noticing the exact moment it happened.
One change had come from the awe of ordinary humans reaching toward deep space.
The other had come from the Naruto world, where people drowned in madness while chasing peace.
Sosuke understood that lessons could sharpen a person. So to others, he had changed.
He had become gentler, less aggressive, willing to share knowledge and power, treating others as equals, almost like a saint.
But Sosuke knew exactly why.
Selfishness did not always create profit. If your will crushed a world's capacity, if the world became only your toy, then nothing real could grow from it. A toy does not change, it only reflects imagination.
And Sosuke did not want puppets.
If he wanted puppets, Kyoka Suigetsu could give him endless armies.
But after seeing so many worlds, he finally understood himself.
Sitting at the top was objectively impossible through analysis and effort alone, at least for him. He did not deny that somewhere, out there, existed monsters who could crush entire worlds by themselves.
He simply was not one of them.
So he accepted his limits, then chose his real goal.
He wanted seekers, companions who could stand beside him, and together they would explore what lay beyond the edge of known reality.
"Did I once chase the brilliance of the sun so obsessively," Sosuke murmured, "that I forgot the colors of the flowers."
Kukaku's eyes widened.
"What are you even talking about."
"I am speaking about my relationship with the Shiba family, Kukaku san."
Kukaku's face tightened, her temper flaring again.
"Are you looking down on me."
"I will repeat myself," she said, voice shaking with anger and grief, "Sosuke Aizen. Whatever your dream is, whatever you want to do, the Shiba family will remain neutral. That is the most we can offer. You can kill us all, but we will not stand on your side."
She knew exactly who he was. Friends did not warn each other for nothing.
Before Sosuke arrived, Yoruichi had already spoken to her.
If you can avoid believing him, then do it. He is too dangerous. Do not trust words. Demand proof.
Kukaku might have been carefree and wild, but when her best friend came to her with that level of seriousness, she listened.
And Sosuke's reputation as a "good" captain was famous even in Rukongai.
Unfortunately, the Shiba family hated Shinigami most of all. Good person or not, they avoided them whenever possible.
"I am grateful you brought Ichigo here," Kukaku said, "but if you think you can use that to demand something, you are dreaming. The Shiba family left Seireitei. Your struggles between Shinigami have nothing to do with us. Leave."
"The Shiba family has no connection to me," Sosuke repeated softly.
He sighed and adjusted his glasses.
This was the Shiba family's attitude in its purest form. Ever since Kaien died, ever since Isshin disappeared, ever since the family's decline hardened into exile, the hatred inside the survivors had only grown.
Yet the truth was complicated.
The Shiba family did have a connection to him.
Strangely, Sosuke had never intended to target them. If anything, among the five noble lines, they were the only one that could still be called decent, at least in comparison. He had never wanted to do anything special to them.
And yet, as if guided by fate, his actions and his creations kept colliding with the Shiba bloodline.
Sosuke watched Kukaku's rage and sorrow and felt something stir, not because her pain moved him, but because Soul Society itself was a place where hatred and chaos could only multiply.
For revenge against Seireitei, some people willingly became Hollowfied. For revenge against Rukongai's system, some begged for modifications, desperate for power. Even after being captured, some asked excitedly whether they could be deployed to kill specific targets.
The number of people who wanted to murder Shinigami, or Shinigami leadership, was countless.
Oppression did not end. It just changed faces.
Wandering spirits could not fight Shinigami. Even among Shinigami, the gaps were oceans. Defying class here was nearly impossible.
That was why the Shiba family's strange brightness, like bleached color in a nest of insects, stood out so sharply.
And yet, Ukitake Jushiro did not look as gentle as his surface suggested.
He had watched Kaien die. In the name of dignity, he had stopped Rukia from acting. Was he cutting off the last hope of the Shiba family's rise, or was he simply indifferent.
Perhaps the latter was more accurate.
The Shiba family sensed it. They refused reconciliation. They moved to Rukongai. They lived like nomads, refusing Seireitei.
Then it was the young Rukia, still immature, who carried the news of Kaien's death to the family, a man whose face resembled Ichigo's so closely it felt like a cruel joke.
And under Sosuke's deliberate manipulation, Rukia eventually arrived at the Kurosaki household, transferring Shinigami power to Ichigo.
At the time, every step had been planned.
Kaien's death was an accident. Isshin's arrival in the human world was an accident.
But accidents still left scars, and scars still formed bonds. Sosuke had been tied to this fallen noble family from far earlier than anyone would believe.
The Shiba family did not want that connection.
But it existed anyway.
Unrelated. Strangers.
Those words could not apply.
Revealing the truth was cruel, but Sosuke believed everyone had the right to know. His actions would always leave traces, whether he wanted them to or not.
Rather than burying the rot for later, why not expose it now, while there was still time to address it.
"How can you call it unrelated, Kukaku san," Sosuke said quietly.
Then he smiled, gently, like a man offering a gift.
"The Hollow that killed Kaien Shiba was one I created myself."
The dojo went still.
Kukaku's breathing stopped for a heartbeat, as if her lungs forgot their job.
"What did you say."
"Did Yoruichi not tell you what I did," Sosuke continued evenly. "I sought to break the boundary between Shinigami and Hollows. I created many Hollows with special abilities. One of them could absorb the power of a Zanpakuto."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"And it is now one of the important forces in Hueco Mundo."
A flash of movement.
Kukaku's hand snapped up.
"Hado number sixty three, Thunder Roar Cannon."
Lightning erupted.
Sosuke lifted one finger, as casually as stubbing out a cigarette.
The surge of lightning shattered into powder.
In the same motion, he pinned Kukaku in place when she tried to Shunpo away and create distance for another Kido.
His grip was calm. His voice was calmer.
"Please do not rush. Let me finish."
Kukaku's eyes were bloodshot, her fury barely contained as he held her still.
"Although it is connected to me, it was not my intention," Sosuke said. "It was an accident."
His tone stayed precise, almost clinical.
"If you want someone to blame, then blame Ukitake Jushiro. He watched the entire thing. As captain, he should have protected his member. When a member is in danger, the captain should act."
Sosuke's eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
"But Captain Ukitake did not. He used the excuse that it was Kaien's own battle, and prevented others from rescuing him."
Sosuke spoke like he was being considerate, like he was offering clarity to ease pain, as if this were a small mistake, a minor wound, something that should not obstruct cooperation.
The moment he released his grip, Kukaku struck again.
Another Kido.
Another attack.
Whatever Yoruichi had said to her, whatever Kukaku had decided, her trust in Sosuke was below zero.
Sosuke could not blame her.
It was his own problem.
"So you still will not let me finish," Sosuke said with a quiet sigh. "Then it seems I need to offer something real."
His eyes flicked briefly toward a point in the void, then returned to Kukaku.
He smiled.
"What if I told you it is not impossible to bring Kaien Shiba back to life."
Kukaku froze.
Her mouth opened slightly, as if the words had hit her like a physical blow.
"What did you say."
"I said it is not impossible to bring Kaien Shiba back to life."
Sosuke's voice carried an unsettling certainty.
"It is not fantasy. Ichigo's chakra and spirit particles can create a world that ends sorrow and pain. That is not poetic language, Kukaku san. It is a simple fact."
He tilted his head, as if genuinely curious.
"Or did my wording confuse you. If so, I can explain the principle and process."
His eyes drifted again toward that same observation point, as if someone were watching.
"Heaven is not an ethereal myth," Sosuke said. "As long as spirit particles, records, knowledge, and the phosphorescence of Hell still exist, the dead can be brought back in this manner."
His voice did not rise.
Even so, every word felt like a shockwave.
"Even Shinigami."
"If you think a person truly ends the moment they die, then that is incorrect. Hell is an entity that records everything. The dead accumulate their imprints there."
Sosuke's fingers lifted slightly, as if he were drawing a diagram in the air.
"If we reconstruct that imprint, spirit particles, personality, memory, then reviving Kaien is not impossible. I could even demonstrate something similar in front of you."
Kukaku stared at him like he was insane, like he was a terrorist with a pleasant voice and a knife hidden behind his smile.
Sosuke did not care.
He reached into his pocket and produced a small round bead, shimmering with a glassy light.
In an instant, the entire room's attention locked onto it.
Not just Kukaku.
Even those watching from afar, those monitoring the situation, could not hide their surprise.
"The Hogyoku," Sosuke said softly, almost conversational. "A device that appears able to grant wishes."
Kukaku's throat tightened.
Her voice came out ragged.
"When. How did the Hogyoku end up in your hands."
"When," Sosuke repeated, amused. "That is a strange question, Kukaku san."
He adjusted his glasses and smiled faintly.
"When did you start believing the Hogyoku was no longer in my hands."
His tone stayed gentle, almost patient.
"I removed it in front of everyone when Rukia returned. And I told you from the very beginning."
He looked toward the unseen watchers, toward the shadowed eyes behind glass and distance.
"I have always been sincere, Kukaku san, and to those who watched from the dark."
<><><><><>
[Check Out My Patreon For +50 Advance Chapters On All My Fanfics!]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
[Every 100 Power Stones = +1 Bonus Chapter]
[Join Our Discord Community For Updates & Events]
[https://discord.gg/MntqcdpRZ9]