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Kurosaki Isshin stiffened the moment Shiraha spoke his true name. His body tensed, one step retreating before he sighed in resignation and crossed the floor anyway. There was no path of escape. He knew very wellâstanding here was Kuchiki Shiraha, captain of the Seventh Division. Against that, what could he possibly do?
"You must have already noticed," Isshin said with a weary spread of his hands, "my Shinigami power is gone. If you intend to drag me back to Soul Society for execution⊠at least grant me a few days. Just a few days." His tone softened, almost pleading. He needed timeâtime to prepare, time to let Kisuke help him stage a disappearance that would not leave his family terrified by his sudden vanishing.
"Now, now, Mr. Kurosaki, don't get worked up." Urahara Kisuke reclined lazily on the wooden floor, a paper fan flicking the humid air as if nothing of weight hung in the room. His voice was light, but edged with truth. "Shiraha didn't come here to arrest you. Or did you forget? You were already sentenced to death in Soul Society long ago."
Shiraha smiled with polite composure. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. Kuchiki Shiraha. Current captain of the Seventh Division."
"Kuchiki Shiraha?" Isshin blinked in surprise. "Byakuya Kuchiki? Is he�"
"My elder brother." Shiraha's tone was faint, but certain.
Isshin hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Then, Captain Shiraha⊠now that you've discovered I am alive, are you planning to report me back to Seireitei?"
"Your survival has nothing to do with me." Shiraha's reply was cool, detached. "I'm not here to play informer. At present, I'm only stationed in the living world as a representative of Soul Society."
There was no advantage in reporting Isshin. He had no spiritual power left, no longer Shinigamiâonly a human man. And Shiraha had no interest in pointless favors that served nothing.
Isshin studied him carefully, then inclined his head in gratitude. "I see. Thank you, Captain Shiraha."
Shiraha waved off the courtesy with a small smile.
Urahara's fan paused. "Well then, Mr. Kurosaki, what brought you to my store today?"
Isshin scratched the back of his head, a sheepish fondness glinting in his eyes the moment he mentioned her name. "Masaki said in a few days we'd take the children to Naruki City for a trip. But the news today claimed Naruki City was destroyed by a meteorite. I came to ask what really happened."
At the mention of his wife and children, Isshin's gaze softened.
But the air inside the room shifted. Urahara, Yoruichi, and Tessai all turned their eyes toward Shiraha. The truth was clear enough among them. Naruki City's destructionâits weight and its creditâbelonged almost entirely to him. Grimmjow, the swarm of Gillians⊠their havoc was immense, but still not one-tenth the devastation Shiraha himself had unleashed.
Isshin noticed their looks and his jaw tightened. "Captain Shiraha⊠Naruki City. You were the one who destroyed it, weren't you?"
The words stung the silence. Hundreds of thousands of souls had lived in that city. Hundreds of thousands were gone. Shinigami would be overwhelmed with soul burials. And worseâso many souls lost at once meant countless might stray and turn into Hollows. It was disaster multiplied.
What Isshin didn't yet know was that those souls were already devouredâswallowed whole by Menos Grande long before Shiraha struck the final blow.
"In a sense, yes," Shiraha answered evenly. "But by the time I destroyed Naruki City, the souls of its people were already consumed by the Gillians. Nothing remained."
Isshin fell silent, the truth grim but strangely clarifying. He nodded slowly. "I see. Then, Captain Shiraha, Kisuke⊠forgive the interruption. I'll take my leave."
He turned to go, but Shiraha's voice followed him, mild yet edged with intent. "Mr. Kurosakiâyour wife must be a Quincy."
Isshin froze, startled. "What�"
"In a few years' time, the power she carries will vanish." Shiraha's smile was faint, almost warning.
The truth hung between them. Masaki Kurosaki was indeed a pure-blood Quincy, one who had once fought on par with captains. But when she saved Isshin from the Hollow called White, she had been bittenâher soul permanently stained with Hollow essence. Only Kisuke's intervention had bound that Hollowfication. Only Isshin's sacrifice of his own Shinigami powers had kept her stable.
Isshin spun back, face tightening. "Captain Shiraha, what do you mean?"
Kisuke's fan clicked shut with casual ease. "The Hollow inside Masaki has been suppressed by my handiwork. As long as she refrains from using her Quincy powers, her strength won't disappear entirely." His smile carried no surprise. Of course Shiraha knewâhe always seemed to know. If Shiraha could name Aizen's ZanpakutĆ ability, then Masaki's Quincy bloodline and the existence of White were hardly secrets beyond him.
"You must also know the name Yhwach," Shiraha said calmly.
Both Isshin and Kisuke stiffened.
"Yhwach?" Kisuke's voice sharpened. "The ancestor of the Quincy?"
He knew the storyâevery scholar of Soul Society did. Yhwach, son of the Spirit King. The progenitor of Quincy blood. Nine centuries ago, he led his army against the Gotei 13 under Yamamoto GenryĆ«sai. In the end, Yamamoto had triumphed, and Yhwach was sealed.
"Yes," Shiraha said softly. "That very man."
The tale unfolded in grim inevitability. Nine hundred years sealed, Yhwach regained his heartbeat. Ninety years later, his mind awakened. Nine years more, and he would unleash the "AuswĂ€hlen"âthe Holy Selection. The ritual that would strip all mixed-blood Quincy of their power, siphoning their strength to restore his own.
Shiraha's voice fell still, but the weight of prophecy lingered. "When the sanctification begins, your wife will not be spared. Be prepared."
Isshin's fists clenched. "Then you mean⊠the disappearance of Masaki's Quincy powerâit will be Yhwach's doing?"
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