At five in the morning, inside the Shihōin family estate, in the courtyard next to Yūshirō Shihōin's residence, a petite girl opened her eyes. After a quick wash, she began her daily training.
By around eight, Suzushiro Ayame had already been practicing alone for three straight hours. She wiped the sweat from her body with a clean towel, then entered the bath to wash away the heat and stickiness. Steam rose, bubbles clung to her small frame, and she quickly scrubbed herself clean. When she finished, she slipped into a black, backless combat outfit designed for high-speed sword battles, then layered the standard Shinigami uniform over it.
By nine, Ayame hurried toward the neighboring courtyard.
"Good morning, Lady Suzushiro."
Several attendants, already waiting at the gate of her courtyard, bowed respectfully as they saw her, recognizing her usual routine of going to wake Yūshirō.
"Hello!" Ayame returned their bows with the same polite respect she had shown since first moving into the Shihōin household.
With that, she began her daily first challenge—waking the ever-sleepy Yūshirō Shihōin.
She stepped into his quarters with practiced familiarity, opened the doors, crossed the three-hundred-square-meter guest hall, and finally reached the door to his bedroom. She pushed it open with force, calling loudly:
"Time to wake up, Young Master Yūshirō!"
But the room was empty.
"…Huh?"
Ayame froze, her small body trembling slightly as she stared at the vacant room. Something felt wrong, as if the emptiness itself meant something important was missing.
"Yūshirō… don't joke with me."
"Where are you?"
"Young Master Yūshirō?!"
Panic rising, Ayame scoured the entire courtyard but found no trace of him.
"Excuse me," she rushed out to question passing attendants and patrolling Shinigami, "have any of you seen Young Master Yūshirō today?"
"I'm not sure…"
"I haven't seen him in days."
"Perhaps he went out on some errand?"
The attendants and guards all shook their heads.
"I see…" Ayame's brows knitted, her eyes shimmering with unease.
"Lady Suzushiro, has the Young Master gone missing?"
At that desperate moment, a stern voice cut through. A middle-aged man in black robes, over which he wore a white haori-like garment, stepped forward. He was the steward of the Shihōin household, a man of calm authority.
"If the Young Master has disappeared, you should go ask Lady Yoruichi at the 2nd Division barracks. You may find answers there."
"Thank you." Ayame bowed deeply, then vanished into shunpō.
The steward watched her go, nodding to himself. "The Suzushiro family raised a fine girl. Her temperament complements the Young Master's well."
Meanwhile, at the 2nd Division headquarters…
Ayame's shadow darted into the open captain's office. There sat Yoruichi, a fork in hand, about to spear a slice of watermelon. She froze for a second, then casually slid the bowl of fruit behind her.
"Well, well. If it isn't little Suzushiro. What's got you in such a rush?" Yoruichi asked with a teasing smile.
"Lady Yoruichi, do you know where Young Master Yūshirō is? This morning, when I went to wake him as usual, I found his room empty. He left no word of where he was going, and no one in the household has seen him. It's as if he vanished!"
Ayame's voice trembled as she clutched her chest. Just saying the word disappeared made her heart ache. She was truly terrified he might vanish from her life as suddenly as he had entered it.
"What? That brat, missing?" Yoruichi burst into carefree laughter. "Don't be silly. He probably just ran off to play somewhere."
But her laughter stopped abruptly when she saw Ayame's swollen, red eyes.
"…Right. Come to think of it, Yūshirō did go to see Kisuke Urahara yesterday. You know him, don't you? The one I recommended to you when you needed help training your bankai."
"Yes!" Ayame nodded furiously, wiping at her tears with her sleeve.
So cute, Yoruichi thought, her heart squeezing. What a waste, handing such an adorable junior over to Yūshirō. She had brought Ayame into the 2nd Division hoping to train her as a successor, but now the girl was utterly devoted to Yūshirō. Was her own charm really that lacking?
"Thank you for the information, Lady Yoruichi. I'll go find Urahara at once!"
In a flash, Ayame vanished again.
Yoruichi stuffed another piece of watermelon into her mouth and muttered, Don't you dare let down that sweet girl's faith in you, brat.
Soon after, Ayame arrived at Urahara's laboratory. She knocked lightly.
"Coming, coming," came a lazy voice. The door creaked open, revealing a disheveled man with messy yellow hair, dark circles under his eyes, and a faint chemical stench about him—Kisuke Urahara, 3rd Seat of the 2nd Division.
"Ugh, it stinks!" Ayame pinched her nose, retreating a step.
"Hahaha, apologies. Some experiments tend to get smelly. But tell me, Lady Suzushiro, what brings you here today?"
"It's Yūshirō Shihōin—he's gone missing! Lady Yoruichi said he came to see you yesterday, so I hoped you might know where he went."
"Oh my… Young Master Yūshirō missing? That's serious indeed…" Urahara's tone faltered as he lowered his head, a little too dramatically. Even Ayame noticed.
"Do you know something?" she pressed, eyes glistening. "Please—anything you know, tell me!"
"…I see. He must be very important to you." Urahara stepped aside. "Come in. We shouldn't discuss this where others can overhear."
Ayame entered reluctantly, braving the acrid air. She froze at the sight of the vast laboratory, filled with strange instruments and glowing liquids.
"This way, please," Urahara guided her to the only wooden table.
"This is hardly 'humble,'" Ayame whispered in awe. "I've never seen anything like this."
Urahara chuckled softly. "Now then, about Young Master Yūshirō's disappearance…"
He spun a tale. "It began yesterday, when I asked Lady Yoruichi to contact him. One of our experimental creations accidentally escaped into Rukongai. Such things must never be discovered by the Gotei 13, or not only we but even the Shihōin family could face punishment. So, before the Gotei found out, Yūshirō agreed to go handle it alone. But then…"
"Unbelievable! How could you be so irresponsible?!" Ayame's eyes welled up. "You dragged Yūshirō-sama into this mess!"
"Please, calm down," Urahara soothed. "I believe he's still alive—merely trapped by the creature's abilities. We haven't had reports of a rampaging Hollow, which means it hasn't gone berserk yet. If we defeat it quickly, everything will be fine."
"Then I'll tell Lady Yoruichi and have the 2nd Division—"
"Absolutely not!" Urahara cut her off in alarm. "We can't risk the Gotei learning of this. No Yoruichi, no 2nd Division."
"Then I'll call my squadmates for help!"
"No! Too many people will attract attention!" Urahara wiped nervous sweat from his brow. Ayame's unpredictability was throwing his script off track.
"Then how are we supposed to save him?!" Ayame was on the verge of tears.
"Simple. You and I will rescue Young Master Yūshirō ourselves," Urahara said with a low, serious voice.
"Just us? Against an enemy even he couldn't handle?"
"Yes. With anyone else, it would be impossible. But with your bankai, Lady Suzushiro, we can do it."
"My… bankai?" Ayame trembled. That power—so at odds with her identity—was the last thing she wanted to unleash.
"Exactly. The creature is a regenerative artificial Hollow. Unless destroyed instantly, it will regenerate endlessly. Only your bankai has the power to end this. Please, Lady Suzushiro—we need you."
Urahara's voice carried weight and conviction, his expression earnest, like a shadow of Aizen himself.