In a small, nondescript ramen shop in Rukongai called Kazekaze, Yūshirō Shihōin was happily slurping down a steaming bowl of noodles.
"Hey, young man, I heard you've already become a Shinigami in the Seireitei, right? The pay should be pretty decent too. And yet you still come here to eat—really makes me feel honored," the shop owner said with a warm smile as he watched Yūshirō eat.
"I told you already, old man! Your ramen is the best in all of Soul Society!" Yūshirō replied between mouthfuls, clearly savoring every bite.
"You're serious? I always thought you were just being polite to spare my feelings!" the owner chuckled, though his lips curled upward at the compliment.
"Of course not. I'm just telling the truth," Yūshirō said with a grin.
The wind chimes at the door jingled, and a man with short brown hair and glasses stepped inside. He looked ordinary enough, but the air around him marked him as a Shinigami. Spotting Yūshirō chatting with the owner, the man paused, then wore a harmless, neighborly smile as he took a seat right beside him.
"Same as usual, old man," the newcomer said casually.
"Well, if it isn't young Aizen!" the owner greeted warmly. "What a coincidence. You and Yūshirō both have been eating at my shop for decades, yet this is the first time you've run into each other here."
The shopkeeper laughed. "Guess I should call this your first ramen meeting."
"There are many squads and countless Shinigami. It's perfectly normal we've never crossed paths before," Aizen Sosuke replied with a polite smile.
The shopkeeper flushed. "Ah, right, sorry! But still, two ramen lovers like you should have plenty to talk about. After all, people who love ramen can't be bad people. I'll leave you two to chat while I make the noodles."
As the owner busied himself, Aizen turned toward Yūshirō with a smile and extended his hand. "I'm Aizen Sōsuke, 3rd Seat of the 5th Division."
"Third seat? With that reiatsu, I thought you were a vice-captain," Yūshirō laughed.
"Haha, not at all. I'm still far from that level," Aizen replied modestly.
"Second Division, unseated member—Yūshirō Shihōin," Yūshirō said, shaking his hand while studying him carefully.
"Shihōin… Yūshirō? As in that Shihōin family?"
Aizen's face suddenly paled. He shot to his feet, cold sweat dripping down his brow. His reaction was genuine—panic, not an act.
Yūshirō blinked, a little surprised. For a moment he had assumed Aizen was the type who deliberately cozied up to noble houses for advantage. But his reaction… seemed more like honest shock.
"Hahaha, don't mind the name. Right now I'm just another hungry customer here for a good bowl of noodles. Sit down, or the old man will think I'm bullying his guests." Yūshirō waved him back down.
"Thank you, Lord Shihōin…"
"Eh! Don't call me that. Just Yūshirō. No titles, no 'lord.'"
"Understood… Yūshirō," Aizen said, seating himself again, a bit stiffly.
The ramen arrived. Both men dug in, but then Yūshirō froze.
"Wait! What the hell is this?"
He picked something out of Aizen's bowl with his chopsticks.
"Oh, that? Dried bamboo shoots. They're delicious!" Aizen said with his usual gentle smile.
"I'm not asking what it is—I'm asking why it's in ramen at all!" Yūshirō's tone was dead serious.
"Is… there a problem with me eating bamboo shoots?" Aizen adjusted his glasses, puzzled.
"There's no problem with eating them. But putting them in tonkotsu ramen? That's blasphemy! Old man, one bowl of Yūshirō Special Tonkotsu Ramen—I'll show this kid what real ramen is!"
The shop owner smirked and went to work. Soon, a steaming bowl topped with generous slices of chashu and fish cakes was set down.
"This is ramen!" Yūshirō declared proudly.
Aizen glanced at it, unimpressed. "Fish cakes? Compressed scraps of fish meat with no nutrition, no flavor, no texture. Garbage. Bamboo shoots, on the other hand—rich in protein, fiber, amino acids… low-fat, cleansing, and the perfect side dish. If anything, your fish cakes are the real crime here."
"What? You dare insult my fish cakes? Apologize to every ramen lover in the world right now!" Yūshirō's face turned red with fury.
"Sorry, but I can't. I'll never accept such tasteless trash," Aizen replied calmly, his tone as cold as steel.
Silence fell over the shop. Two titans, glaring at each other across bowls of ramen, as if the world itself would tremble from their clash.
Five minutes later—
"Pfft… hahahaha!"
"Hahaha, indeed…"
Both burst into laughter.
"You really do love ramen," Yūshirō said.
"Not as much as you, but… yes. Though to be honest, every shop in Seireitei pales compared to this one," Aizen admitted before slurping up his noodles.
"Exactly!" Yūshirō nodded eagerly.
The shop filled only with the sound of noodles being devoured.
"Another bowl, old man."
"Same here."
The battle escalated. One bowl. Two bowls. Three. Until finally—
"Counting my first bowl, that makes me the winner," Yūshirō declared, patting his swollen stomach.
"I wasn't competing. I just… love ramen," Aizen muttered weakly, trying not to vomit.
"Loser's excuse!" Yūshirō grinned.
"Heh… next time, I'll show you what real strength looks like," Aizen said with a sly smile.
"Fine. If I beat you once, I'll beat you again," Yūshirō shot back.
The two parted ways—smiling, joking, like new friends.
But once Yūshirō was gone, Aizen's expression shifted. On his arm was a strip of black cloth—the same reiatsu-suppressing material as Yūshirō's eyepatch.
"Sharp. He almost thought I was a vice-captain," Aizen murmured.
In truth, Aizen hated ramen toppings like bamboo shoots. But he had eaten them for decades, meticulously crafting an image. In the entire 5th Division, everyone "knew" Aizen Sosuke was a ramen fanatic. All of it—thirty years of eating ramen he disliked—was part of a script he had written for this very meeting.
"First, you meet. Then you bond. Then you clash, to ensure another meeting. And then, you become… 'friends.'"
He chuckled softly, the shadows glinting in his glasses.
"Everything is proceeding perfectly. Soon, I'll need captain-class subjects for my experiments… and when that time comes, I'll simply ask my new 'friend' to step away from Soul Society for a while."
Aizen Sosuke—the man Kubo Tite himself once described with a single word: God.
A man with the script in his hands, destined to stand above all… unless, of course, fate threw him against an absolute cheat.