Chapter 257: Beyond Grudges and Debts (Six)
Seireitei, the paradise of the Shinigami. To the Wandering Souls, it was the holiest ground in all of Soul Society.
Now, that sacred place was choked.
Countless Wandering Souls flooded the four main gates, piling in like a tide of ants until the roads on both sides were completely blocked. The scene was so absurd it felt like a fever dream, because in all of history, this had never happened.
Wandering Souls were never meant to have power.
They were treated as ornaments of balance, necessary pieces in the circulation of the Three Realms. In Soul Society, they could survive without food or water, stubborn as weeds. And in the eyes of the Shinigami, weed like lives were convenient. Expendable. Replaceable.
There was no real kindness in it, no noble belief.
The stories the Shinigami told were crafted for efficiency. If you convinced a Wandering Soul that the afterlife was better, they resisted less. They despaired less. They were less likely to turn into Hollows.
It made the work easier.
That was all.
Once they arrived, they became consumables.
Wandering Souls were killed to maintain balance, to test a blade, to refine combat prowess. Entire squads were sometimes dispatched to butcher districts, not because of necessity, but because "the Thirteen Court Guard Squads must remain sharp," or because belief had to be enforced with blood. For Kido experiments and ability testing, Wandering Souls were bound first, then used.
Those who showed potential were recruited and trained.
Those who did not were treated like raw material.
A new Shinigami could, in theory, protect old friends from Rukongai. But time ground people down. Shinigami society reshaped the mind. Protectiveness became distance, distance became arrogance, and arrogance hardened into a twisted certainty.
Wandering Souls were not "people."
They were resources.
Versatile materials that appeared in Seireitei to keep the Three Realms stable under the Soul King Palace. Used to forge tools and methods, toxins, Zanpakuto, strange devices, all built on "high quality materials" meant for absorption and training.
After thousands of years of domestication, the Shinigami world no longer considered any of this strange.
But the Wandering Souls remembered something the Shinigami liked to forget.
They were alive.
And if they were going to be killed anyway, then dying quietly was the most humiliating option possible.
Now it was confirmed, the nobles planned to purge them. So what was left to hide?
They had ten thousand. A hundred thousand. In time, a million and more.
How many were there in the Gotei 13?
As long as a person had a thought, a conviction, Chakra could answer. In the warped terror of Rukongai's system, were there really few who hated the Shinigami deeply enough to cling to a conviction?
Why did friends vanish in batches?
Why did resentment ferment everywhere?
Why did even old figures hidden within Soul Society secretly despise the Shinigami?
It was not because the Shinigami were ugly.
It was because they treated everything as property.
That included the pitiful, ignorant Shinigami who had never questioned the system, and the Wandering Souls crushed beneath it. Some Shinigami cared, yes. But most inflicted violence and cruelty coldly, forcing Rukongai to carry the darkest weight of Soul Society.
So many "trivial items" were spoken of lightly. Intelligent tools, soul crafted equipment, disposable things forged from Wandering Souls.
People forgot what that meant.
It meant lives.
It meant countless deaths, stacked into a foundation everyone stepped on without looking down.
Even Urahara, praised as a peace minded genius, never hesitated to use Wandering Souls as materials when it suited necessity. So how could true researchers, Kido development teams, or drug development teams ever care?
That was why, when the Wandering Souls surged and assaulted Seireitei, the Shinigami did not react in time.
In Shinigami memory, Wandering Souls were obedient. They were meant to be harvested.
How could they suddenly rise up and strike back?
It happened too fast. Even the four gatekeepers were overwhelmed by the rain of fireballs. Their size was intimidating, but it did not make them invincible. The attacks were crude, yet when tested, they discovered something unsettling.
Spiritual power could not block this energy in the usual ways.
Ordinary Kido could not harmonize with it. To counter it, they would have to understand it first, analyze it, adapt to it. Until then, it was a one sided beating.
The gatekeepers could kill dozens, even hundreds.
But when they looked beyond the walls and saw the sea of bodies outside, they chose to retreat instead, raising barriers to stall the flood.
It did not last.
Shells crashed in from outside. Spiritual membranes carrying Wandering Souls drilled straight through the barrier and slammed into Seireitei like meteors. The impact shattered the membrane into dust, spilling bodies across the white streets.
Those Wandering Souls did not know Seireitei's layout. They did not know where to vent their fury. They ran like headless flies, smashing whatever they could reach, setting fires that looked pathetic against the vastness of the city.
What unsettled the Shinigami more was simpler.
They could not spare the manpower to stop them.
Inside Seireitei, the war against Wandenreich was still raging. Across fixed projection sites, squads fought in shadows, locked in relentless clashes. There were signs of victory, but the Quincy abilities were bizarre and vicious, and the captains with the strongest counters were missing. The city was chaos layered on chaos, and no one could afford to turn their gaze toward the Wandering Souls tearing through the streets.
Even so, someone saw it all and chose to break his own usual distance.
"…Impudent."
The voice was cold, noble, unyielding.
Byakuya, Captain of the Sixth Division, the twenty eighth head of the Kuchiki Family, stood with his entourage of noble Shinigami, eyes like ice fixed on the Wandering Souls who were trying to burn their way through Seireitei.
From a Shinigami perspective, it was almost laughable. Their flames and crude earth shifts could not meaningfully damage Seireitei's foundations.
But trespassing was a grave crime.
Byakuya did not care to ask about their feelings. As a noble, as a model of order, he only needed to act according to status and law.
"Arrest them all and send them to the Maggot's Nest," he ordered calmly. "Await judgment by Central 46. If unnecessary, do not kill."
Then he turned, prepared to move to the next disturbance.
Above Seireitei, fireworks scattered like a storm of madness. Reishi spheres and spiritual membranes kept dropping from the sky, blinking, falling, bursting. The Shinigami fighting Wandenreich were even disrupted, nearly pushed back by the constant chaos.
The deployment of noble forces proved how far things had decayed. The nobles who usually hid behind authority had been forced to move, even if only to reduce the pressure crushing Seireitei.
Or, more truthfully, Seireitei had become so tense that it could not suppress internal noble factions anymore, and had to rely on Byakuya, the most "trustworthy" of them, to quell internal disorder.
But how had it come to this?
Only three days ago, the Captain Commander went to the Soul King Palace.
Three days, and the city was already rotting.
Even captured Quincy could not explain the situation. Interrogations only produced fragments. After Aizen attacked Wandenreich, their king led the Sternritter to the Soul King Palace.
Then three days passed.
No news. No return. Nothing, except the remaining Sternritter still fighting and the Quincy clinging to rumors that their king would come back and annihilate the Shinigami.
Yet no decisive figure appeared on the Shinigami side either.
Hope lingered like poison.
To Byakuya, it was unacceptable.
The noble families had not lost their numbers overnight, so how had Seireitei been pushed into this position, pressured into collapse?
There could only be one conclusion.
Some individuals within Seireitei were taking advantage of the chaos to seize benefit.
He did not know what they wanted.
But he knew he had to prepare for the worst.
At least one piece of good news remained.
Rukia had been locked in the safest prison.
Even so, Byakuya sensed the rot spreading. Barriers damaged. Squads stretched between enemies. The Captain Commander still missing. Wandering Souls inexplicably enraged.
An invisible hand seemed to tie everything together.
As he led his people to arrest Wandering Souls across the streets, the numbers only grew worse. Fireworks kept blooming above, shifting from pure Reishi to Reishi dominated by Chakra. It was as if the hidden craftsmen of Rukongai had found a way to disable the barrier in an impossibly short time.
Not only the four gates suffered. The constant rain of Wandering Souls crashing down from above strained logistics and medical units to the breaking point.
Hell Butterflies and Tenchuren messages screamed through the air without pause.
Byakuya said nothing. He simply moved, cold and efficient, trying to stitch order back together with his own hands.
But even his efforts had limits.
The noble guards around him thinned. Sixth Division members were pulled away by emergencies. Meanwhile the Wandering Souls seemed endless, their numbers flowing like a curse.
At first, the ones who arrived were full of hatred.
Later came those who looked less like rebels and more like looters.
The composition of the invading crowd changed before his eyes.
By the time only a few unassigned Shinigami remained at his side, a glowing sphere pierced through the barrier and crashed directly in front of him.
The protective membrane shattered instantly. Wandering Souls tumbled out, wrapped in varying amounts of Chakra, rolling and scrambling across the ground.
They looked up.
They saw him.
Their expressions froze.
Then someone pointed at him and shouted, voice cracking with panic.
"That's Byakuya Kuchiki, leader of the noble squad."
"Is he a captain? Sixth Division's captain?"
"Then what do we do? I just came to grab some loot…"
"I'm here to kill Shinigami. Killing one breaks even, killing two is profit."
"Then do it."
Their voices collided into chaos, half fear, half greed, half madness.
Byakuya watched them without expression.
Then he placed his Zanpakuto to the ground.
As if sinking into water, the elegant long sword vanished into the floor. Pale pink petals began to fall.
Cherry blossoms.
Beautiful, endless, lethal.
They swirled, multiplied, and sliced everything around him into ribbons. The closest Wandering Soul burst into blood sprays before he could even finish inhaling.
"Scatter, Senbonzakura."
Even if these people held power that was not truly theirs, they were still Wandering Souls. The only ones who could wield Chakra with world destroying weight were Aizen and Ichigo.
The petals danced around Byakuya like a silent storm. He frowned as he watched the strange energies swirling around the intruders, so different from reiatsu, yet capable of real harm.
Their demeanor was wrong.
Different from the Wandering Souls he had faced earlier.
"Why have you come to Seireitei?"
The answer did not come immediately.
The Wandering Souls glanced at one another. They looked at the mangled body bleeding within the petals. Their faces twisted.
Some looked unwilling. Some looked away in shame. Some tried to flee, only to be forced back by the rotating blossoms.
Against the powerless, Senbonzakura was absolute.
Under that pressure, confessions spilled out in a messy clamor.
It was not his duty to interrogate them.
But a strange instinct had made him pause and ask.
And that instinct proved correct.
He learned things he should not have known.
Rumors of Shinigami planning to purge Rukongai. Techniques for building Reishi cannons. Methods to pierce barriers. Stories of conspiracies unfolding inside Seireitei itself.
These Wandering Souls might have been weak, but their information was sharp. Because most of them were opportunists. Crushed for years, too afraid to oppose openly, they had waited for chaos like starving rats waiting for a kitchen door to open.
They did not come to destroy Seireitei like the first wave.
They came to steal.
They believed the Shinigami would win eventually, so they wanted to loot barracks, hidden vaults, supply stores. Then they could hide afterward, and when a "Wandering Soul street" emerged in the future, they would become the founding elders.
Byakuya did not judge their greed.
What unsettled him was the content behind their words.
The purge order.
The certainty.
The name behind it.
Byakuya had never heard of such a plan. He had been busy fighting for Seireitei. Whatever time remained had been spent wrestling with Rukia, with duty, with the weight of the Kuchiki name.
As the family head, he had never been included in such a decision.
Yet as the rumors were described, it sounded as if the Kuchiki Family had agreed in silence.
It was absurd.
And still, as Byakuya listened, one figure rose in his mind.
Among the nobles, there was only one candidate.
One man who despised the world more than anyone.
One man who adored chaos, illogic, hatred, and insanity like it was fine wine.
"Regarding this matter," Byakuya said, voice calm and cutting, "I will go and question it."
He looked at the Wandering Souls, petals hovering like a warning.
"I will allow you to leave alive. Announce this news to the Wandering Souls outside. As head of the Kuchiki Family, I will maintain close attention on the matter of slaughtering Rukongai. Until I confirm the truth, do not act rashly."
"Are you running away, Byakuya Kuchiki?"
"I have no obligation to explain myself to you, Wandering Soul."
He turned away.
Then he felt it.
A gaze that did not belong to the terrified intruders.
It carried amusement, like someone watching an interesting insect struggle.
Byakuya's senses were sharp. He followed it immediately.
A man stood in the corner as if he had never tried to hide at all.
Pale green kimono. Narrow eyes. A face ugly in a way that felt deliberate. Malice poured off him openly, and the glee in his gaze almost solidified into something you could breathe.
Byakuya's eyes narrowed.
"…Tokinada Tsunayashiro."
He faced the man directly.
"Did you do all this?"
Tokinada smiled, barely containing laughter.
Byakuya's voice did not rise. His control was absolute.
"What exactly happened, Tokinada Tsunayashiro."
Tokinada tilted his head as if considering how to answer a child.
"Hm. Just an interesting story, finally reaching the end of its boredom. I found some amusement." His smile widened. "Care to chat, Byakuya Kuchiki?"
"My demand is to restore Seireitei's original order and fulfill the duties of the nobility," Byakuya said. "The duty of the Four Great Noble Clans is to protect the Soul King and ensure Seireitei's safety. As head of the Kuchiki Family, it is my responsibility to maintain order. Your actions exceed your duties."
"Exceed?" Tokinada clicked his tongue. "I cannot let that go. Rather, I'm the one doing the work."
He watched Byakuya approach with a detestable grin.
Tokinada had become head of the Tsunayashiro Family through assassination, political struggle, conflict, and promises, riding the chaos Aizen had unleashed. Compared to the Kuchiki Family's obsession with order, the Shihōin Clan's current disorder, and the family bound to Hell's oversight, Tokinada's Tsunayashiro was aggressive, vile, soaked in malice.
He loved striking through murder and provocation, then appearing before victims to flaunt noble privilege.
Byakuya despised him.
But until now, as nobles, there had been no clean way to deal with him.
If Tokinada had truly overstepped into treasonous disaster, then Byakuya would have a reason to move.
Tokinada lifted his hand, speaking casually to the noble Shinigami arriving behind him.
"Eliminate the Wandering Souls, then clear the external cannon positions. Rukongai must be purged."
"Yes."
"Wait."
Byakuya's voice snapped through the air like a blade.
"What are you doing?"
Tokinada's order froze the noble Shinigami in place. They looked between the two family heads with troubled expressions.
They answered to the nobility itself. In this moment, Byakuya carried the greatest authority. Yet Tokinada was also a chosen Great Noble head. Neither could be ignored.
Byakuya did not force his subordinates into impossible choices.
He simply lowered his gaze, then looked at Tokinada again.
"What exactly has happened in Seireitei?"
Tokinada's grin sharpened.
"The Great Return of Power."
"…What?"
"Return all authority to the Soul King, then let the Soul King reshape a new world. Of course, that's only the name." Tokinada's tone remained light, almost cheerful. "The current situation is chaotic, yes. Quincy. Wandering Souls rebellion. Even those tree like things in Hueco Mundo."
Byakuya's eyes narrowed.
Tokinada continued, voice smooth.
"Our mobilization is difficult because we also dispatched an expedition to Hueco Mundo. Most of the noble Shinigami are there."
"The vast majority?"
"Yes, the vast majority," Tokinada said, smiling as if enjoying the disbelief on Byakuya's face. "Because there are acts that insult the Soul King's will. Old figures, prisoners from noble dungeons, all released. They formed the Hueco Mundo Expeditionary Force. A thorough purge of Hollows infected by Chakra has begun."
He spoke like this was obvious.
Like sending forces into Hueco Mundo during Seireitei's crisis made perfect sense.
Byakuya understood the logic they were claiming. Shinigami were fighting Quincy and resisting Wandering Souls, while noble forces tried to suppress Hueco Mundo's spread of signal towers and delay that eerie signal. If Seireitei lost, they wanted time to unseal every last contingency, even those related to Hell.
But the logic still felt wrong.
Hueco Mundo was a bottomless pit. A territory that devoured expeditions with ease. It would be far more rational to crush Wandenreich first, then let Yamamoto's victory turn Hueco Mundo into a walk, a parade of force.
Why had the Four Great Noble Clans accepted Tokinada's plan so easily?
Why had they obeyed a risk that did not align with noble interests?
"Why choose an expedition to Hueco Mundo now?" Byakuya asked.
"Because enemies were discovered there," Tokinada replied, shrugging. "Isn't it normal to deal with discovered enemies?"
"The decision to expedition to Hueco Mundo can only be made by the Captain Commander," Byakuya said, voice cold. "The nobility's duty is to protect Seireitei and the Soul King, not to conduct expeditions. Your actions overstep your authority, Tokinada Tsunayashiro."
Tokinada spread his hands, smiling as if he found Byakuya's words adorable.
Byakuya's gaze hardened.
"In the name of the head of the Kuchiki Family, I declare you have no right to dispatch noble forces to Hueco Mundo. You have violated Seireitei's internal regulations. This is an emergency. Return to your home. Do not interfere further in Seireitei's internal affairs."
Even that was an indulgence. The Four Great Noble Clans had privileges. Until Central 46 issued a verdict, Tokinada could not be treated like a common criminal.
In emergencies, noble heads could act freely.
Byakuya expected resistance.
Tokinada gave none.
He shrugged and walked toward open ground, hands loose, expression idle.
Byakuya felt a brief flicker of relief.
Then something pierced his chest.
A Zanpakuto saturated with spiritual power.
The tip brushed his skin, and his captain's haori fluttered down, as if the body beneath it had vanished.
Byakuya appeared a step away, using a special Shunpo to create an illusion of being struck.
He stared at Tokinada with shock.
He had not sensed it.
Tokinada's spiritual pressure had not existed.
If the sword tip had not grazed him, he would not have known which Tokinada was real.
"What ability is this," Byakuya said, voice low.
Tokinada sighed, fiddling with the long sword in his hand.
"Kyoka Suigetsu. Aizen's ability. I'm only borrowing it a little, the spiritual power cost is disgusting."
His eyes flicked to Byakuya's movement.
"Utsusemi. One of the Shihōin Clan's secret steps. How unpleasant."
"You'll have plenty more to be unhappy about," Byakuya replied.
Tokinada opened his mouth, ready to sneer.
A scorching gale hit him from behind.
A fist slammed into his face with brutal force, sending him flying like a cannonball. He crashed through multiple buildings in Seireitei, bricks and tiles exploding outward, dust swallowing the street.
The gale vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Yoruichi stood where Tokinada had been, fist clenched, brows drawn tight.
Her expression shifted, confused.
Because the feedback was wrong.
She had hit him cleanly, with real power.
But it did not feel like flesh.
It felt dull, strange, like punching something that should not exist.
"…How brutal, former head of the Shihōin Clan."
Tokinada's voice drifted out of the dust, amused.
"The scandal between you and your retainer even brought shame upon the Shihōin Clan."
He stepped from the smoke.
The place that should have been dented by Yoruichi's punch was writhing, proliferating like living matter. Flesh colored lines intertwined, rebuilding his face in front of them.
Chakra.
Not just spiritual power.
Tokinada was using Chakra to develop effects tied to life itself.
Under their gaze, broken bricks and tiles dissolved into spiritual power and flowed into him. Pale blue Reishi shimmered around his body. Torn clothing restored itself into that elegant light green kimono. The dent vanished. His face became smooth again, as if the punch had never landed.
Tokinada rolled his neck and smiled wider, eerie and grotesque.
The noble Shinigami around them had already retreated, sensing danger and clearing the battlefield. At this level, ordinary fighters were only burdens.
When the last noble Shinigami disappeared, Tokinada stroked his chin, eyes glittering.
"So," he said, voice dripping with cruel amusement, "is it our second round now, Yoruichi Shihoin, and Byakuya Kuchiki?"