Night always passes.
Countless Shinigami did not sleep.
Too many needed mourning.
And Seireitei was close to breaking.
Shuuichi didn't dare harvest Bakkōtō (Parasitic Zanpakutō) too openly. Many Hollowfied Shinigami still made a last, desperate stand against the captains who arrived late.
A mayfly shaking a tree still leaves a mark.
In centuries, this was the first time Seireitei suffered worse than Rukongai.
On this same night, many wanted to be the winner; in the end, only one person truly profited from the tragedy.
"Eee~ya~"
In West Rukongai, District 2, Rangiku woke from a comfortable sleep-in.
She looked at the bedroom she lay in, at the blanket tucked over her, and smiled.
"Shuuichi-sama is as gentle as ever~"
This wasn't the first time she'd gotten drunk and been carried back to her room by Shuuichi, and it clearly wouldn't be the last.
After a quick wash, she slipped on a loose under-robe and headed for the door to report to the Tenth Division.
A knock came from outside.
"Huh?"
Rangiku found it odd.
As far as she knew, few people ever came to this house in West Rukongai, District 2. Apart from a handful of visits from Soi Fon, only a black cat would drop by to play with Shuuichi.
She'd once teased Shuuichi: why not set up a cat bed and keep that black cat here, so it could sleep with him every night?
He'd refused without hesitation.
He'd even hinted she should never entertain the idea again.
Just a black cat—anyone would think it was some taboo.
Rangiku didn't get it, but since Shuuichi had asked, she'd do as told.
Thinking on it, she went downstairs.
"Who is it~?"
She opened the door—and froze at a glance.
"Rangiku."
The silver-haired youth on the threshold had a thousand things to say, but in the end only let two words fall.
"Gin."
Tears filled Rangiku's eyes in an instant.
After years apart, the childhood friends stood quietly at Shuuichi's door.
Everything went unsaid.
At length, Rangiku wiped her tears and ushered Gin inside.
"Gin, where have you been all these years? Ever since I joined the Tenth, I've been searching for you around our old North Rukongai, District 62, but I could never find a trace!"
Across from her, Gin felt she was even lovelier than in his memories, just as warm as before. But for some reason, he felt there was something between them now, like the small table set between their seats.
"Back then you were badly hurt, I—"
He started to say what really happened but hesitated.
Looking at her guileless face, he didn't want to drag her into the coming storm.
He didn't know the identity of the bespectacled Shinigami who had nearly killed Rangiku; he didn't know if he could kill that man and avenge her; he didn't know what would become of him afterward.
Would they send him to the Twin Hills of Execution?
It was possible.
He could run—to Rukongai, the World of the Living, even Hueco Mundo.
But Rangiku…
He didn't want her back in those days of scraping by, never sure of tomorrow.
Maybe it was best like this: if she stayed by Shuuichi's side, she could live happy and safe…
He alone would shoulder the revenge—and whatever came with it.
"What's wrong, Gin?"
Rangiku saw him drift and waved a hand before his eyes.
"It's nothing." Gin shook his head. A smile rose on his lips—the first true one in years. "Back then, Shuuichi-sama found you unconscious. He said he'd take you to Seireitei for treatment and asked if I'd come too. I told him no. I'd make it to Seireitei on my own."
He set his Zanpakutō—now in the shape of a wakizashi—on the table.
"See? This is the result of all my hard work~"
"Wow—you've already achieved Shikai (Initial Release)? Gin, that's amazing! I studied six years at the academy and had almost two more under Shuuichi-sama's personal guidance before I barely managed Shikai!"
Rangiku picked up his blade, thrilled.
"Shuuichi-sama really is a good Shinigami…"
Seeing her happy made Gin happy, too.
"Oh yes. This place I live in—it's Shuuichi-sama's!
Hehe, can't be helped. I spend my wages on alcohol, so I've got nothing left to rent with~"
Rangiku stuck out her tongue. With Gin, she said all the things she wouldn't dare say in front of Shuuichi.
Whether there was a little intent behind it—only she knew.
Gin had actually heard of this last night from Shuuichi.
He hadn't expected Shuuichi to remember him after ten years, nor that a lofty vice-captain would truly keep his promise and take such good care of Rangiku, a common-born girl with no background and plain aptitude.
For that alone, Gin felt deep gratitude toward Shuuichi.
"All right, Rangiku. I really came just to see you with my own eyes. Now that I have, I'm happy—and I should get back to Shin'ō Academy. These days, not only you—I'll be very busy, too."
He wanted to stay longer—but he hadn't forgotten his purpose, nor the state Soul Society was in.
"You're at Shin'ō Academy? Wait—'I'll be very busy,' too?"
Joy and surprise crossed Rangiku's eyes, brimming with questions.
Gin knew what she was thinking.
He walked to the window, opened it, and pointed toward Seireitei.
"You probably haven't heard—last night, the Kasumiooji nobles revolted openly. Seireitei ran with blood…"
At the same time, in the Fourth Division's vice-captain's rest room, Shuuichi sat in formal seiza. Across from him, in her usual place, sat his captain—Retsu.
Sweat poured down Shuuichi's back.
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