"Haa…"
Hiroki felt as if his body had finally turned into a lead-stuffed sack—heavy enough to register. He'd barely squirmed to find a less bone-jarring position when the paper door of his chamber was yanked open with a violent swish.
Backlit by the light outside, a glossy black cat leapt in, golden feline eyes locking unerringly on the puddle of "human goo" draped across the futon.
"Tch, you're wiped out again?" Yoruichi's voice carried the languid lilt of a cat, but far more obvious was the unabashed, almost gleeful curiosity. She padded closer with elegant steps, tilting her head to study Hiroki, who couldn't even lift a finger. "Last time you were flat for three days. What stunt did you pull this time?"
Hiroki pried one eyelid up and slanted her a sour look, forcing the words through his teeth in a tone that said believe it or don't: "Told you—it's my secret training method."
He tried to sound casual, but the weakness in his voice gave him away. "Squeeze every last drop, ride it right to death's door, then bounce back stronger! Get it? Top-tier operation!" He attempted a dismissive wave; his hand lifted halfway then flopped back onto the quilt.
The black cat sat, tail-tip sweeping the floor, golden eyes spelling out a clear "Yeah, right."
"I come home once a month and you're already a wreck?"
"How was I supposed to know when you'd show?!" Hiroki's voice cracked with frustration and fatigue. "And hey, if you're going to defect, then defect properly—popping back every other day makes it look like you're clocking in for shifts. Is Seireitei your parents' place or your private garden?"
He couldn't help but rant: "Lady Cat-Demon, you're practically punching a time card! Is this a defection or a commute?"
Yoruichi snickered; cunning satisfaction flashed in her feline gaze. She licked a paw, unhurried. "What, my being home ruining your view of the pretty girls?" She leaned closer, spotlight-bright eyes sweeping his pale face. "Interrupting your 'guidance' of little Chizuru's chores? Or blocking your flirting with that Uchiha Izumi cutie?"
"Of course!" Hiroki answered without thinking, half defiant, half resigned—he couldn't beat her anyway. "My beautiful life hadn't even started and here you are, grim reaper on repeat. You're trashing my entire convalescent ecosystem!"
"Tch." A short click of the tongue conveyed… appreciation, or more accurately, contempt.
Her feline eyes narrowed. "I saw you used the Senkaimon. You went to Hueco Mundo?"
Hiroki's pupils shrank; reflexively he tried to bluff. "Huh? What Senkaimon? I just took a walk to Rukongai—new dumpling stand opened…"
"Lie better." Yoruichi cut him off, the fluffy tip of her tail flicking smugly. "The Senkaimon keeps spiritual-pressure logs. Which dumpling stand in Rukongai needs the Shihōin family's private gate?"
Hiroki: "…" Damn—he'd forgotten that! The stupid door kept logs?
Seeing him caught and playing dead, Yoruichi's curiosity sharpened. "What were you doing in that wasteland? Aside from sand and Menos Grande, what's worth the trip?"
Hiroki turned his face to the wall, mumbling, "It's spacious—good place to demo my new move. In Seireitei the noise would bring Old Man Yama running."
"Pfft—" She dragged the sound out, plainly disbelieving every word. "What technique needs to be shown in the middle of nowhere? Think I'm stupid?" She sneered, golden eyes broadcasting "as if your little trick could fool me."
"Forget it—you can't speak a true sentence."
"Ahh…" Hiroki sighed, voice steeped in sincere resignation. "These days nobody believes the truth! Pour your heart out and they call you a liar. Whatever happened to basic trust between people?" His melodrama left Yoruichi speechless.
They kept chatting, trading banter.
Hiroki truly was weak—and just as stubborn. Curiosity was Yoruichi's main tune, but worry for her daredevil husband lurked between the lines. Seeing his eyelids droop and unable to pry out more, she lost interest.
"All right, stay down—don't cripple yourself for real." She stood, stretched her supple feline body, tail flicking. "Judging by the look of you, another one of your 'secret technique mastered' adjustment phases? Tch, those side-effects pack a punch."
Her tone was teasing, with a hint of something like regret. One last glance at the corpse-impersonator on the bed, then she melted into the shadows and vanished without a sound.
Silence returned to the chamber.
Only then did Hiroki fully relax, switching from playing possum to genuine collapse.
In theory the Taixu Divine Sword's backlash left him truly weak for only a day, but the hollowed-out feeling made him want to vegetate. He didn't need three days—he just liked loafing. If he could lie, he wouldn't sit; life was about staying still. With the whole Shihōin Clan under his thumb, lying around for three days was the least his hard work deserved.
So he embarked on his real "convalescence" project—lying around waiting for Aizen.
After taking that hefty dose of "Divine Charm" in Hueco Mundo, surely Aizen Sōsuke, grand schemer behind the curtain, would show up soon to discuss "Hollowfication Technique" and their grand future blueprint. Result: half a month passed—no sign of Aizen.
Intelligence gathered through Uchiha agents, using every covert channel, was identical: Captain of the 5th Division Aizen Sōsuke followed his programmed routine—office, paperwork, smile, meetings… a schedule so regular it was scary. Acting like nothing had happened!
What about his two sidekicks?
Ichimaru Gin? Smilingly brewing tea in the Third Division. Tōsen Kaname? Quietly handling documents in the Ninth Division office.
All of Seireitei was calm—eerily calm.
Seriously—where was Captain Aizen?! He'd taken a solid hit from Divine Charm and just clocked in for work? No reaction after a beating?
For a moment, Hiroki wondered if he'd already fallen under Kyōka Suigetsu. Had that earth-shaking sword-strike in Hueco Mundo been nothing but an illusion—one Captain Aizen had laid ages ago? How else could the man stand there unscathed? Instant regeneration from a rule-based wound? Impossible!
Hiroki frantically replayed every precaution he'd taken.
From the start he'd warned the entire Uchiha Clan about the terror of Kyōka Suigetsu, ordering them to stay on guard and use their Sharingan to log their own condition. With their Ninja discipline and genjutsu talent, they shouldn't have fallen for it… right? Shisui had checked, Fugaku had checked—both reported their senses were clear.
He'd even toyed with the idea of letting Itachi or Shisui "spice things up" for Aizen—say, having Uchiha Itachi open his Mangekyo and hit the captain with a Tsukuyomi—but strangled the thought the instant it surfaced.
After all, the world of the Shinigami runs on spiritual pressure. Itachi's reiatsu was Second Class, while Aizen—behind those glasses—was at least First. Unless Itachi could break into First Class, Tsukuyomi would barely ripple the man's composure, let alone make a splash.
He might even be devoured by the backlash in a heartbeat.
Shisui's Kotoamatsukami could twist the will itself, but with Third-Class reiatsu backing a Mangekyo Sharingan it could reliably sway only Third-Class captains—and only if they weren't on full guard and Shisui kept pumping in reiatsu.
Against a Lieutenant-level target it was infallible; one cast and you could forget about them for decades unless they climbed to Captain-level. On a normal battlefield that was strategic gold, but against Aizen the results were doubtful. Given the man's intellect, the instant he noticed control he'd probably turn it to his advantage.
Not as broken as it had been back in the Ninja World, yet still a potent ace. If he could deploy it in combat… Hiroki's mind painted a rosy picture: the Karakura Town war, Captain-level fighters facing off, Shisui nabbing Tōsen Kaname with a command, shunpo-ing in for a surprise stab—"stick a sword in Aizen!"
Next, auto-matching teammate Ichimaru Gin seizes the golden moment of "friendly betrayal," Shinsō flashes out like lightning—"stick another sword in Aizen!"
"…Yeah, probably won't do much." The excitement drained from Hiroki's face.
With Aizen's absurd strength those two stabs would only make him arch an eyebrow, smirk, and cut down the "traitors" in a single counter-swing.
Hiroki resigned himself to reality: in a realm where reiatsu reigned supreme, the Ninjutsu-based Mangekyo Sharingan crushed equal or weaker foes, but trying to leap ranks against an apex monster like Aizen… Still, in same-tier fights the Uchiha Mangekyo was almost a guaranteed wipe.
Unless he could summon Old Man Madara, it wasn't worth considering. Uchiha Madara's power and will were outright monstrous.
If raw talent was the ticket, only Itachi had a real shot at reaching First Class—though "a shot" meant grinding for… oh, a few centuries.
Summon Madara… The idea took root.
"System," he called in his mind, "how many points to summon Old Man Madara now?"
"Ten million," came the icy reply.
"Hard pass." Hiroki rolled his eyes. With ten million he could buy himself First Class reiatsu; why invite that tyrant?
But… how had Itachi been summoned? Blood "affinity" plus travel fare—"Hmm, copy that method…"
"System, what about summoning Hashirama?" Maybe the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, was cheaper.
"Ten million."
"No way!" Hiroki nearly jumped. "Madara's got the Rinnegan! What does Hashirama have? Good Wood Release and fast healing? Ten million?"
System: "Hashirama's Sage body and Madara's Rinnegan are rated equal in potential. Only Six Paths Madara ranks above Hashirama."
"Then why did Hashirama get wrecked by Madara in their final fight?" Hiroki protested.
System: "Because he was an Edo Tensei, not at his living peak."
…Fair point." Hiroki swallowed the retort.
An Edo Hashirama indeed lacked the might that once swept the Ninja World.
The discount Hashirama plan collapsed.
Yet Hiroki refused to quit.
"Wait, Madara had a little brother. System, cost to summon Uchiha Izuna?" Maybe he could bait Madara with brotherly love; the man had doted on Izuna.
"Three hundred thousand."
"…System, you peeked at my balance, didn't you?" He stared at the 300k left in his account. Seriously?
The system answered coldly: "Fixed price, no haggling."
"…" Hiroki was speechless.
Forget it, he decided.
What strength did Izuna have? Canon said he awakened Mangekyo, got mortally wounded—probably Third-Class reiatsu and an ordinary Mangekyo at best.
Spending 300k for a minor boost wasn't worth it.
Worse, if Madara actually bit and wanted to come, Hiroki couldn't even scrape up the 100k travel fee.
Besides, the man Madara truly wanted to fight was Hashirama; only his best friend could hook him.
A thousand million for Hashirama… might as well sleep on it.
"Sigh… my last 100k is going down the drain." Hiroki buried his face in the soft bedding and let out a long groan.
Life in Seireitei was getting hotter and deeper by the day.