After the fight ended Akio checked the state of the heir and Hiro. The heir had gone unconscious whereas Hiro was still conscious though brutally injured.
The first thing Akio did after checking on the heir and Hiro was trying to contact the Soul Society. During the fight he tried to contact the Soul Society but wasn't able to and now after all this ended he somehow was. He didn't know what they used to block the connection but that caused him to go all out knowing no backup was coming anytime.
The journey back to the Seireitei was a somber, silent affair. Akio carried the unconscious heir over his shoulder while Hiro limped alongside him, supported by Akio's other arm. They passed through the Senkaimon to a scene of organized chaos. A full squad of Fourth Division medics were waiting, along with a contingent of tense-looking Hino family retainers.
Hiro, the head guard, had managed to bind his wounds enough to remain conscious, but he offered no conversation. His pride was a shattered thing, lying amidst the memory of the four corpses on the bridge. He had just seen a massacre of not only one but four assassins by an unseated officer where he wasn't even able to damage one. The gulf between his own skill and Akio's was so vast it was humiliating.
The heir was swiftly and quietly taken to the care of his family's compound after being examined by the Squad 4 healers. His safe return a matter of relief that was immediately overshadowed by the implications of the attack.
After being examined by the Squad 4 members, Hiro, who was also returning with the family retainers paused for a moment, turning back to look at Akio. He didn't speak, but he gave a shallow, trembling bow of his head. It was not the effusive gratitude for being saved, but the quiet, profound acknowledgement of one who has stared into the abyss and been pulled back by a force he scarcely comprehends.
Akio merely nodded in return. His duty was done.
He was then examined by the Squad 4 barracks at last as he was the one with less visible injuries. Sometime later he went to the his Squads barrack to give the report of his mission.
Akio stood before the captain's desk in the 10th Division headquarters. Isshin was leaning back in his chair, legs propped up on the desk, but his usual easygoing demeanor was tempered by a sharp, assessing gaze.
"Quite the field trip you had, Akio," Isshin began, his tone deceptively light. "The Hino clan is… appreciative. And the report I got from the kid and his guard was… sparse. Figured I'd hear it from the man who saved the day."
Akio stood at attention, his face a mask of neutrality. "Well if I have to sum it up. I would say the threat was neutralized, Captain."
"Neutralized is one word for it," Isshin chuckled dryly. "According to the Hino guard the scene on the bridge looked like a butcher's shop crossed with an alchemist's failed experiment. Four on one, and you're standing here without a scratch. Start from the beginning. And also when did you awaken your Shikai?"
Akio's narrative was clinical, devoid of embellishment. He described the initial attack, the nature of the assassins' abilities. He reached the critical moment. "They all released their Shikai. I was surrounded. Facing three opponents with activated Zanpakutō… the pressure was significant. I just felt… I could do it. It was like a door opening in my mind. I called its name, and Kagegari answered."
Isshin's eyes narrowed slightly. The explanation was too simple, too clean for the brutality of the outcome. "Just felt like you could, huh? And that was enough to take out three experienced killers?"
"My Shikai provided me with an advantage in perception as well as teleportation, Captain," Akio explained, sticking to the vague, functional description he had prepared. "It allows me to place markers and sense everything that happens within their radius and I can even teleport to that specific location. When the one with the lightning attacked and the one with the poison created his field, the sensory data from my ability allowed me to redirect their attacks against each other. It broke their formation. After that, it was a matter of eliminating the disoriented targets."
He was careful. He mentioned the markers its ability to sense and as well to teleport, the foundational ability. He did not mention the sensory network. After all he should have some abilities he can surprise his enemies with.
Isshin studied him for a long moment, his gaze seeming to weigh the truth of every word. Finally, he grunted and swung his feet off the desk. "Enhanced sensory perception and teleportation. Useful. Damn useful in an ambush. Alright, Akio. Good work. Don't get used to babysitting nobles, though. Dismissed."
As Akio bowed and left the office, Isshin stared at the closed door, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Just felt like he could…" he muttered to himself. The kid was hiding something, that much was obvious. But in the Gotei 13, everyone had their secrets. As long as those secrets served the Soul Society, Isshin was willing to wait and see what kind of soldier Kurozume Akio would become. One thing was certain: he wouldn't be an unseated officer for much longer.
The air in the deepest chamber of the Tsunayashiro mansion was cold enough to freeze the very soul. The dim glow of lanterns painted the room in long, sinister shadows that seemed to cling to the walls like living things. Tokinada Tsunayashiro lounged in a heavy, ornate chair, a cup of pristine, untouched sake resting on the arm. His posture was one of indolence, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm within.
Kagerō, his most trusted and lethal attendant, knelt before him, his head bowed. His voice was a calm, measured whisper, yet it carried an edge of unease that was rare for his
"Lord Tokinada… the operation has failed. The boy not only survived the assassins but… in protecting the Hino heir, he manifested his Shikai. All four operatives were eliminated."
The porcelain cup in Tokinada's hand cracked, a fine web of fractures spreading across its surface. A single shard fell to the floor with a sharp tink. His eyes, usually alight with mocking amusement, narrowed into slits of pure, undiluted fury.
"Shikai…?" The word was a venomous hiss, spat into the stillness. "That gutter rat? That thing we pulled from the mud of the Rukongai?" He rose from his seat with a sudden, violent grace, pacing the room like a caged predator denied its kill. "Twice now my blades have missed their mark, and twice he crawls back stronger. First, he survives the Academy's… rigors. Now this. He is making a mockery of my intentions!"
Kagerō kept his forehead pressed to the floor. "What are your orders, my lord?"
Tokinada stopped his pacing and turned sharply, his gaze like a physical weight. "Next time… you will involve yourself personally, Kagerō. No more proxies. No more games. I don't care what it takes, what resources you must expend. I want that boy erased from existence. I want him scrubbed from the fabric of reality before this… irritation becomes a genuine problem." His voice dropped to a deadly, intimate whisper. "Do you understand?"
But before Kagerō could affirm the command, the air in the chamber shifted.
A pressure seeped into the room, weightless and formless, yet colder than the deepest ice of the Rukongai and heavier than a mountain of corpses. It was not Reiatsu as any soul could perceive it; it was an absolute, a fundamental command imposed upon reality itself. It carried no scent, no sound, only a single, silent word that echoed directly into the core of Tokinada's consciousness—calm, unyielding, and absolute:
"Stop."
Tokinada froze mid-step. The breath caught in his throat. The raging fire of his fury did not extinguish, but his body refused to obey it. His muscles locked, his will to command Kagerō utterly arrested by that single, incomprehensible imperative. The pressure lingered for only a heartbeat, a fleeting eternity, before fading away, leaving behind an oppressive, deafening silence that was somehow worse than the presence itself.
Kagerō risked a glance upward, her own spiritual pressure coiled tight in alarm. She had felt nothing, seen nothing, but she saw the effect on her master. Tokinada remained motionless for a long moment, his hand trembling slightly where it had been hovering near his sword hilt. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his arm. A deep, ugly scowl twisted across his handsome features, a mask of fury and bitter, bewildered resentment.
Finally, he spoke, his voice a low, venomous mutter meant for his own ears more than hers.
"Why?" he seethed, staring into the shadows where the presence had been. "Why that boy, of all the insignificant specks in this rotting world? What could possibly be so special about him…" He recalled the past, the first time this unseen will had intervened. "First, 'he' told me to simply make his life difficult, to see what he was made of. And now… now 'he' commands me to stop entirely?"
A bitter, humorless laugh escaped his lips, echoing faintly in the lavish chamber. It was a sound half of fury, half of a dark, burgeoning intrigue. The game had changed. The piece he had considered a disposable pawn had suddenly, inexplicably, been moved under the protection of the player he could not defy.