Muguruma Kensei strode forward with a formal smile, the kind reserved for distinguished guests.
"Captain Unohana, Captain Kuruyashiki—welcome to the 9th Division. What an unexpected honor."
He offered a slight nod to Unohana Retsu, then turned to Kuruyashiki Kenpachi.
"To what do we owe the pleasure? Are there official matters requiring our assistance?"
As he spoke, he subtly shifted his body, casually blocking part of their view of Shiki, who stood a short distance behind him.
Shiki flinched again at his captain's words.
He quickly arranged a humble smile and spoke in a soft voice:
"If the captains have important matters to discuss, I fear my presence would only be intrusive. I'll excuse myself and not disturb your meeting."
He began edging—very slowly—toward his room door.
They're not here for me. Definitely not. I'm just a low-ranking 5th Seat, completely irrelevant. Invisible. Forgettable…
Kuruyashiki Kenpachi, of course, wasn't one for subtlety. His booming laugh shattered Shiki's fragile illusion.
"Hahaha! Not official business! We're here for something personal, actually—wanted to consult with your Division's… hmm, 5th Seat Shiki!"
Though he addressed Kensei, his cheerful eyes—along with Unohana's and Kensei's—swiveled directly toward the figure now frozen halfway to the door like a statue.
"Uh…"
Shiki's body locked up.
After a couple seconds of tense silence, he inhaled sharply, straightened up, and turned around.
Every trace of emotion vanished from his face, replaced by a composed, serious expression. His voice was calm and professional:
"Captain Kuruyashiki. How may I assist you? If it's within my duties, I'll gladly cooperate."
Establish a tone of "official consultation" first. Safe zone.
But before Kuruyashiki could reply, Muguruma Kensei stepped in smoothly.
"Since the Captains are here on personal matters, standing around outside is hardly proper."
He smiled a bit more warmly and gestured toward the side hall.
"As it happens, our side room was just cleaned and is quite presentable. Why don't we move there? A cup of tea might help the conversation flow."
His words were perfectly pitched: polite to the visitors, and tactfully shifting the conversation from public to private—far better than questioning someone out in the open.
"Hahaha, perfect! Been walking all day—my throat's dry!" Kuruyashiki said with a grin, clearly pleased.
"I appreciate the offer. Thank you for the hospitality," Unohana replied with a gentle nod, her smile unchanged.
Kensei nodded and turned to lead them to the side room.
As they passed Shiki, he didn't break stride, but spoke just loud enough to be heard:
"Shiki, go to the storage room and bring out our best tea leaves."
Just as he passed, he gave Shiki the slightest wink.
The message in that look was unmistakable: You brat. Whatever trouble you got yourself into, you'd better figure it out fast. These two showing up together? Not normal. Think. Fast.
Shiki's chest tightened with emotion. Captain! Dear, caring Captain! He might scold me every day—but when it counts, he's got my back!
"Yes, Captain!" he said quickly, then turned and jogged off toward the storeroom.
Once inside with the door shut, he let out a long breath.
No time to be sentimental. He needed a plan.
Unohana's visit… he had somewhat anticipated. The Killer was just too obvious in its allusions. With someone as sharp and high-ranking as Unohana, noticing was inevitable.
But Kuruyashiki Kenpachi? What was he doing here?
Shiki's thoughts spun through the events of the last few weeks and the novel's plot.
Suddenly, a lightbulb went off.
Wait. Did Captain Kuruyashiki read the book, get excited, and run off to the Zaraki District looking for the 'demon' I described—only to find nothing?
Was this a confrontation? Did I write it too vividly? Did I trick him into wasting his time?
It was extremely possible. That was absolutely something the 11th Division—or Kuruyashiki—would do.
Shiki almost laughed and cried at the same time.
Captain… that "Killer" in the story? The prototype you were looking for? She's sitting right next to you. Literally.
And you went all the way to the slums looking for her. Brilliant.
He racked his brain. Other than The Killer, there was no reason these two captains would come find him together.
Publishing? Too minor.
Aizen? Hirako? Their side-dealings were private and wouldn't surface here.
So if the book was the root cause, that was manageable.
For Kuruyashiki, he'd play the "artistic license" card. Admit to some exaggeration for dramatic effect, soothe the bruised ego over the wasted trip, and that should do it.
He didn't seem the type to hold a grudge over something like that.
As for Unohana…
Deny, deny, deny.
He'd swear "Yachino Unaharu" was just a poetic name he thought sounded elegant.
The killer's traits? Inspired by scary street legends from Rukongai, nothing more.
The events? Pure fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or captains? Pure coincidence.
She'd have no evidence.
He wrote the manuscript using Urahara's Reiatsu-shielding device, and the pages were buried deep.
And come on—Unohana had been the kindly, healer-type for centuries. Surely she wouldn't draw her sword over a novel?
If she did, that'd shatter the persona she'd built for generations.
Thinking that way, Shiki felt a little more confident.
Stay calm. Play dumb. One step at a time.
He grabbed a small, ornate wooden jar from the back of the shelf—the 9th Division's best tea leaves, the kind even the captain rarely touched.
Holding it carefully, he steadied his expression and walked calmly toward the side room.
It wasn't large. The setup was simple—a small round table and a few chairs.
The three captains were already seated. Kensei at the head, with Unohana and Kuruyashiki on either side.
Ashido stood silently in the shadow behind Kuruyashiki, quiet as ever.
The atmosphere... seemed cordial? At least on the surface.
Shiki entered without looking around, offered a polite bow, and set to work: boiling water, warming cups, selecting leaves, brewing.
His movements were smooth, his bearing composed. He'd practiced this before.
He served the tea in three steaming cups, each placed gently before a captain. Then he stepped back, hands at his sides, standing properly behind Kensei's chair.
He kept his eyes down. Calm. Silent. Ready.
Kensei took a sip, blew on it, and then—as if remembering something—lifted the lid in his hand and pointed casually to his left.
Which was to say: to the empty seat at Unohana's right.
"Shiki, what are you standing around for? Sit."
Shiki's head snapped up, eyes wide, staring at his captain.
Captain! What are you doing?!
He desperately tried to communicate NO with his eyes.
Kuruyashiki chuckled. "Yeah, don't be shy, 5th Seat Shiki. This isn't formal business, just a friendly chat. Come sit—it's easier to talk that way."
"Captains, with all due respect, I'm merely a 5th Seat. I really shouldn't—"
Shiki bowed quickly, trying to refuse.
Sitting between two captains? That wasn't a chair. That was the execution platform.
Before he could finish—
A voice, soft enough to drip honey, rose beside him.
"5th Seat Shiki…"
Unohana gently set down her teacup, the click of porcelain on the tray crisp and delicate.
"Please. Sit."
Her voice wasn't loud. Her tone stayed gentle.
And yet… Shiki's throat clicked audibly as he swallowed.
"Y-Yes, thank you… Captain Unohana."
He stepped forward toward the seat.
…