Outside, light snow began to fall. After sending Shourei away with some flimsy excuse, Higashino Shuuichi checked the sword case by his bed. Thankfully, no signs of it having been opened.
He laughed at himself.
He was worrying too much. If any Shinigami—other than someone from the Kasumioji clan—had tried to open it without the special gloves, they wouldn't have gotten far. And in that case, when he woke, it wouldn't just be Shourei waiting outside his door.
"Shuuichi-san, good day. I'm the 2nd Division's 3rd Seat, Urahara Kisuke. May I come in?"
Just as Shuuichi was gathering his things to leave, a knock sounded.
"Urahara Kisuke…"
He froze. Likely Shourei had reported his recovery.
"Please, come in."
Shuuichi rose to greet him.
A tall man entered, handsome and faintly lazy. But unlike Kyōraku Shunsui's carefree mask, Kisuke's calmness carried the weight of quiet control—as if nothing escaped his grasp.
No wonder Aizen had judged Kisuke one of the few in Soul Society worthy of his attention. They shared too many qualities.
"I only gave you some ordinary kaidō, but your body recovered remarkably fast," Kisuke said with an easy smile.
"Not at all. Without your kaidō, I'd still be flat on my back," Shuuichi answered smoothly. The standard politeness of two men fencing words.
"After a bout like that with Captain Yoruichi… do you still insist on remaining with the 4th Division?"
So. He dropped the mask first.
"Do you also think I belong in the 2nd Division, Kisuke-san?"
Shuuichi narrowed his eyes.
He couldn't yet read Kisuke's purpose. Best to lob the ball back, see what he really wanted.
Kisuke met his gaze, smiling still, but didn't answer directly. Instead he shifted.
"I've heard that when you were vice-captain of the 4th, the squad adored you. They respected you and Captain Unohana deeply. Even now, after you stepped down, the same loyalty remains. In fact, I hear your new vice-captain, Yamada Seinosuke, finds it… difficult."
"Is that so? Funny, I've never heard him say such a thing. And that position was his fair and square. The whole squad saw it—he beat me that day. He earned their respect. I'm sure they hold him in just as high regard."
Outwardly calm. Inwardly, Shuuichi scoffed. *Yamada, who only has eyes for Unohana, caring about the rank-and-file? He'd bask a week off her smile. The rest of the squad means nothing to him.*
So Kisuke was probing. Testing.
"Perhaps it was only a rumor then. Still… you're known for being gentle, admired by all. Yet in your fight yesterday, you chose such reckless tactics. That doesn't seem to match your character."
Spoken lightly, as if in passing.
"That's because I made a promise. A little girl asked to see what a true Shinigami looked like in battle. On any other day, I might have yielded early. But not yesterday. Not in front of her. She dared to strike down a Hollow far beyond her ability. How could I show fear? Whatever the result, I couldn't falter."
His tone was calm, but Kisuke heard the steel beneath.
So did Shourei—listening outside the door, fists twisting her clothes.
*So… it was for me?*
Shuuichi himself knew this wasn't his original intent. But yes—it was because she'd been watching that he fought on. Had she not been there, after trapping Yoruichi with Kurohitsugi, he could have conceded. By then, he'd shown more than enough. Among vice-captains, none could have surpassed that performance.
"Hah! In that case, you're not fit for the 2nd Division. With that sense of duty, you'd suffer endlessly under us."
Kisuke's sudden laugh broke the tension like glass.
Shuuichi smirked despite himself. "True enough. Perhaps I'm best suited to the 4th—where watching the injured return whole is the greatest joy."
They drifted into lighter chatter after that. Half an hour later, Kisuke took his leave.
But Shuuichi, watching his back, knew the truth. The real questions had come early. The rest had only been filler.
Whether Kisuke had been satisfied, whether Shuuichi had steered him off the scent—only Kisuke himself could say.
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