"Manager, Kurosaki-kun has arrived," Tsukabishi Tessai said in his deep voice, standing beside the sliding door.
"Oh, good. He's finally here," Kisuke Urahara replied, fanning himself lazily, though his eyes held a quiet relief. He had been worried that Kurosaki Ichigo might lose heart… and abandon his resolve to enter Soul Society to save Rukia-chan.
"But… a Shinigami from Soul Society, Amamiya-san, came along too," Tessai added.
"Uh…" Kisuke's fan stilled. His smile faltered for the briefest moment. Yare yare… This was troublesome. He hadn't yet thought of a proper excuse for Amamiya Miyako's inevitable questions—and now here he was, walking in with Kurosaki-kun.
"Shall I activate the barrier?" Tessai asked, hand already moving toward the switch.
"Leave it," Kisuke sighed, folding his fan with a snap. "This whole mess started with me. If he's here… maybe he's also—" His voice dropped, a hint of guilt bleeding through. "…Bring them both in."
....
Outside, Amamiya Miyako narrowed his eyes at the shop's unassuming facade. Just a dusty old candy store to human eyes—but the reiatsu here was meticulously concealed. No wonder even experienced trackers couldn't detect it. Former Kidō Corps Captain Tsukabishi Tessai and ex–12th Division Captain Kisuke Urahara had clearly built formidable protections here.
The door slid open.
"Welcome, Kurosaki-kun, Amamiya-san," Kisuke greeted with his trademark grin, cane tucked under his arm.
"Kurosaki-kun, how are your injuries?" he asked casually.
Ichigo tugged open his shirt collar, revealing fresh but healed scars across his chest. For a high school student, the sight was unsettling—evidence of battles no normal human should endure.
"It's all ready," Ichigo said simply. The way he bared those wounds was his answer: he was prepared to take the next step.
"Excellent," Kisuke said, closing his fan with a flick. "Then, Kurosaki-kun, please head inside first. Tessai will take you where you need to go."
"As for me…" His eyes shifted to Miyako. "…I believe Amamiya-san has something to discuss."
Ichigo nodded without a word, glancing between them. Then he bowed sharply at the waist—ninety degrees. "Everything depends on you."
Kisuke blinked. Tessai's brows lifted. Neither had expected such sincerity from the brash substitute Shinigami.
After a moment's quiet, Kisuke murmured, "It's me… who needs to rely on you."
...
When Ichigo disappeared into the back, Miyako spoke, voice like steel. "Urahara… Aren't you ashamed to deceive someone with that kind of resolve?"
Kisuke tipped his head back, gazing at the fading sunset. The light painted the shop in orange shadows, and for a moment, the air felt heavy. He stayed silent, his smile absent.
Miyako's tone shifted, sharp with accusation. "That Gigai Rukia was using—you gave it to her, didn't you? By now, it's probably been taken to the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. You know what that means."
"I know," Kisuke admitted quietly.
"They'll discover the modifications," Miyako pressed. "And when they do, they'll trace it straight back to you. You've hidden in the Human World for decades, yet now you've gone and exposed yourself. What's your aim?"
"Because… he can't wait any longer," Kisuke said, a hint of resignation in his voice. He knew Aizen Sōsuke was after the Hōgyoku. This was the only desperate move left—hiding it inside Rukia Kuchiki. But her unusual condition had been noticed. Once she returned to Soul Society, Aizen would inevitably discover her secret… if he hadn't already.
"Is it… Aizen Sōsuke?" Miyako asked, his voice low.
The name hit Kisuke like a blade. His usual composure cracked. "…How do you know that name?"
"As I thought…" Miyako's eyes narrowed. He had debated whether to reveal this, but there was no point hiding now.
Kisuke's fan vanished from his hand. His grip tightened around his cane—his disguised Zanpakutō—ready to draw at any sign of hostility. "Answer me. Why bring up that man?"
"That's the ability of my Zanpakutō," Miyako replied. "I can't give you the specifics. But through it… I learned the truth about Kyōka Suigetsu."
"What did you just say…?" Urahara Kisuke's voice was unusually sharp, the shadows of his hat hiding his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't know Kyōka Suigetsu's fearsome ability… but until now, no method to counter its kanzen saimin—complete hypnosis—had ever existed. And the man wielding it, Aizen Sōsuke… his Zanpakutō's ability was only one piece of his unfathomable power.
"I'll be direct, Urahara-san," Amamiya Miyako said calmly, "My Zanpakutō has the ability to temporarily suppress Kyōka Suigetsu's hypnosis. That is how I was able to perceive Aizen Sōsuke's true nature."
His words carried both truth and a careful lie—suppression was possible, yes… but he had known about Aizen's deceit long before his blade ever revealed it.
Urahara was silent, his folding fan unmoving. The statement weighed heavy in the still air between them.
"Then… Rukia's situation," Amamiya continued, "It's also tied to you and Aizen, isn't it?"
Urahara's gaze didn't shift. He offered no answer—only silence.
Inside, Kisuke's mind was racing. Should he reveal the full scope of his plan? Or was this some elaborate uragiri—a betrayal disguised as aid?
Finally, he looked up. "Show me."
Miyako blinked. "What?"
"You said your Zanpakutō can restrain Kyōka Suigetsu. Then show me. I want proof." His hand rested on the cane that hid Benihime.
"…I understand." Miyako's eyes narrowed, voice steady. "Words won't convince you, Urahara-san. Very well… we'll fight. You'll see my blade's power for yourself."
Without another word, Urahara turned and led the way into the shop, down the hidden path to the vast underground training hall—a cavern of stone lit by the faint glow of kidō wards.
This time, there was no playful banter, no teasing explanations. His mind was locked on one thing: confirming the truth of Miyako's claim.
Kurosaki Ichigo, still lying on the ground as his soul remained tethered to his body, blinked in confusion as the two descended. "Oi… Shopkeeper, Amamiya… you done talking up there? My training's supposed to start, you know."
"Kurosaki-kun," Urahara said, his tone uncharacteristically grave, "Can your training wait a moment? There's something… more urgent."
"Ha? What's that?? We don't have time to waste!" Ichigo snapped, frustration flaring.
"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun," Urahara replied, voice low but firm. "This could decide whether we truly save Kuchiki-san. Please… just wait."
The seriousness in his tone pulled Ichigo up short. He frowned, but didn't argue further. "…Tch. Fine."
"Then… Shall we begin?" Miyako stepped forward, drawing his twin blades in one smooth motion. The steel gleamed under the training hall's pale light. "My power is limited here by a spiritual seal… but it will be enough for you to feel it."
Ichigo watched, brow furrowed. "Oi, Tessai-san… what's going on? Are they seriously gonna fight?"
Tsukabishi Tessai's expression was like carved stone. He shook his head slowly. "I don't know… but whatever it is… it's serious."
Miyako's blades crossed before him, a faint shimmer in the air as his reiatsu pulsed. Urahara slid his cane free, the crimson edge of Benihime glinting as it emerged.