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The first ray of sunlight crept into the team building like a silent intruder. Sui-Feng stirred slowly from sleep, raising a slender hand to rub her eyes. As the room sharpened into focus around her, she blinked—then froze. A moment later, her body jerked upright with a sudden jolt, gaze flicking about, scanning the space in haste. The office was dead silent. Empty. Not a single trace of the figure she sought.
A trace of unease tugged at her heart. Without a second thought, she sprang from the futon and rushed toward the door barefoot, not even bothering to reach for her shoes. The wooden door slid open with a sharp whack, and standing just outside, in the corridor lit by morning light, was a familiar figure seated cross-legged in perfect stillness.
Sui-Feng exhaled slowly. Her tense shoulders eased, the storm of worry dissolving from her face. A faint, tender smile crossed her lips as she stepped toward him quietly.
A soft grunt broke the silence.
Sui-Feng paused mid-step, eyes narrowing slightly. She crept closer and noticed that Su Li was asleep, chin propped on one hand, back straight as though he had simply sat down and slipped away into slumber. Her brows lifted in surprise. He had stayed like this the entire night—guarding the entrance, keeping silent vigil until sleep overcame him.
Something in her chest tightened, a quiet mix of pain and affection. She knelt slowly beside him and called his name in a whisper, almost afraid to break the peace.
"Ah Li… Ah Li…"
The young man stirred, eyelids fluttering. "You're awake..." he mumbled through a yawn, rubbing his eyes in a daze.
Sui-Feng tilted her head slightly, gaze warm despite the teasing lilt in her voice. "Look at you, sleeping like that… your saliva's dripping."
She tugged at the edge of her sleeve and gently dabbed the corner of Su Li's mouth, her movements careful, her eyes soft. The subtle fragrance clinging to the fabric struck Su Li immediately, chasing the fog from his mind.
"Ah… this posture really pulls on the jaw," he said with a sheepish chuckle.
In his previous life, he'd spent more than a few lectures slouched over a desk, dozing in this same position until a puddle of drool formed. It seemed old habits crossed lifetimes.
He rose slowly, bones cracking faintly, and stretched with lazy contentment. "Bee, is it time?"
Her expression sobered. "Two hours left before the execution."
Su Li's smile deepened, and with a subtle nod, he murmured, "Let's go then. Mount Sōkyoku."
With a blur of motion, the two figures vanished from the corridor, flickering across the low morning sky above Seireitei using swift, precise Shunpo. Below them, hushed whispers stirred among the Gotei 13's ranks. Yet the talk wasn't focused on the earlier invasion or the chaos sown by the Ryoka. What filled the air now were conversations shadowed with uncertainty and doubt—words centered on the impending execution of Rukia Kuchiki.
Murmurs fluttered through the barracks like restless spirits.
Many questioned whether the punishment was truly justified. Though she had broken laws, few believed her actions warranted death—let alone an execution by Sōkyoku, the highest and most brutal method available. Moreover, Central 46 had shifted the schedule multiple times, moving the execution earlier with little explanation. That alone stirred deeper suspicions.
Some bolder voices even called Central 46 fools in broad daylight—until teammates rushed to clamp hands over their mouths, silencing them before worse could happen. However frustrated they were, everyone knew the truth: Central 46 was the highest judicial authority in Soul Society. To question it publicly was to court death. As a result, the discontented stewed in silence, their anger suppressed and smothered behind protocol.
Drifting through these murmurs, Su Li caught fragments of more... familiar developments.
To most, this was fresh news—but to him, it was old script.
Zaraki Kenpachi had clashed directly with Tousen Kaname. Led by Ishida Uryu, Inoue Orihime, and members of the Eleventh Division, Zaraki had gone up against the Seventh Division under Komamura Sajin, alongside Tousen's Ninth.
The Gotei was abuzz, not with condemnation, but fascination. After the Ryoka incident, it had become apparent these "invaders" were not true enemies. Their purpose—rescuing Rukia—struck a chord with many. Even the Eleventh Division had split in allegiance, openly defying orders. Slowly, quietly, the hearts of Seireitei's soldiers had begun to shift.
The Shunpo halted. Su Li and Sui-Feng landed lightly at the base of Mount Sōkyoku.
Several figures were already assembled. By tradition, the execution of Sōkyoku required the presence of all captains and vice-captains. They were to remain in place until the sentence was completed—an iron rule decreed by Central 46 long ago. But this time, things were different.
With Seireitei in chaos, many leaders were deployed elsewhere, locked in combat or carrying out critical assignments. Only a few captains and lieutenants stood at the mountain now:
Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryūsai and his vice-captain, Chōjirō Sasakibe. Kotetsu Isane, vice-captain of the Fourth Division. Kyoraku Shunsui of the Eighth Division, along with his vice-captain, Ise Nanao.
Out of thirteen divisions, only three had both seats filled. Even the Fourth Division's captain, Unohana Retsu, was notably absent. Where she had gone, none could say.
This gathering, meant to be solemn and orderly, now felt fractured, threadbare.
As Su Li and Sui-Feng approached, reactions flickered.
Yamamoto stood silent, eyes impassive as if their arrival meant nothing. Kotetsu Isane offered a small, shy nod. Kyoraku's lips curled upward, wearing that signature lazy, unreadable grin.
"Junior brother, long time no see."
Su Li met his gaze, smile faint but knowing. That grin told him everything—he already knew what Kyoraku planned. Somewhere, Jūshirō Ukitake was already en route, carrying a stolen heirloom of the Shihouin family. The two captains would destroy the execution scaffold—just like they did in the original arc of fate Su Li remembered.
Kyoraku doubted the execution's legitimacy. Ukitake simply couldn't let Rukia die.
Their plot had been in motion for some time. But it wouldn't matter.
Because now—Su Li was here.
"Brother," he replied softly, "long time no see."
Yamamoto did not so much as blink.
Then the rustle of chains broke the air.
All eyes turned.
Rukia Kuchiki appeared, clad in the sinner's white robe, her arms bound, the heavy chains dragging behind her in a slow, clinking rhythm. Flanked by guards, she descended from the Repentance Cell, walking with stiff, mechanical steps toward the Sōkyoku platform.
Her head remained bowed, expression unreadable. She did not lift her eyes.
Each step rang louder than the last.
It was as if the entire world had gone silent.
Only the sound of her footsteps remained.
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