For Higashino Shuuichi, if he wanted a subordinate who wouldn't be rejected out of hand by Tsunayashiro Kamihara, there was only one answer—manufacture a brand-new Soul Society "traitor" himself.
The kind Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni would least tolerate.
Naturally, the already-underway Kaizō Konpaku (Modified Souls) project was the perfect entry point.
This technology—blacklisted by Central 46 in the original timeline—touches human souls and Hollow power, so a conservative like Yamamoto would never accept it.
So when Kurotsuchi Mayuri said the next stage carried certain risks, Higashino didn't even think before raising both hands in favor.
Like nodding off and someone hands you a pillow.
Higashino and Mayuri both felt that "where have you been all my life?" urgency as they planned the follow-through.
Of course, Mayuri was never the target—and even if Higashino wanted Mayuri, he wouldn't use that kind of method.
A man like Mayuri, whose world is pure research—bereft of standard notions of good/evil, honor/disgrace, even "responsibility"—doesn't need to be dragged into anyone's camp to collaborate.
That, precisely, is where he differs from Urahara Kisuke.
Compared to Urahara—tricks within tricks and eight hundred eyes hidden in his sleeves—Mayuri is a purer kind of researcher.
Higashino's goal this time was Yushima Ōko.
No one fit better than this "minor boss" to execute the plan.
And Yushima had zero objection.
A man with research talent who craved recognition—he'd long wanted to shake off Mayuri and go solo.
All the more with Higashino's promise: whatever the results, he would shield Yushima before the Gotei 13 and bring him into the Katana-gari-shū.
With that, the last weight on Yushima's heart lifted.
Thus a plan that would send ripples through Soul Society took shape in the 12th Division's little underground lab.
Plan is plan; to execute, they still needed the right time, place, and people.
While waiting, a lavish, exquisitely made wedding invitation arrived at the Katana-gari-shū's new compound.
"To the Great Blade-Hunting Chief, Higashino Shuuichi."
Brief and to the point—whoever sent it didn't seem keen on inviting him; likely ticking a formality box.
The message: an invitation to the wedding of Kuchiki Byakuya, heir and eldest son of current clan head Kuchiki Sōjun.
"Kuchiki Byakuya's wedding?"
Seeing the name, Higashino naturally thought of another: Kuchiki Rukia.
Of course, at this point she shouldn't bear the Kuchiki name.
She might still be wandering.
Decades ago, he might have been fascinated—might even have personally helped Byakuya find his wife Kuchiki Hisana's sister, Rukia.
But times had changed. Higashino no longer needed to curry favor with Soul Society's "main cast."
Now that he held a key to the shadow realm, whether Kurosaki Ichigo existed was… less critical.
The wish he'd sworn upon arrival—"just live through Aizen and Yhwach"—was hardly difficult anymore.
His current concerns were how not to land on the Royal Guard monk's chopping block as a Soul King "man-stake," and how to secure footing in a future where he and the Gotei 13 were oil and water.
Even so, in his present role, skipping the wedding of the Kuchiki heir—of the nobles only a step under the Tsunayashiro—would be strange for a noble-direct Katana-gari-shū chief.
Five days later, at Byakuya's wedding, among a sea of Gotei Shinigami, the solitary Great Blade-Hunting Chief stood out like a sore thumb.
"Isn't that former Vice-Captain Higashino? Should we go say hello?"
"Are you stupid? He's the Great Blade-Hunting Chief. Haven't you heard? The Katana-gari-shū was formed to counter us—the Gotei 13!"
"Right. They're nominally within our structure, but they don't take the Head-Captain's orders—only the nobles'."
"No wonder. I heard that chief used to be a traitor. Before he fled Soul Society he fought with multiple captains and nearly killed the 2nd's Captain, Soi Fon!"
There were a lot of attendees—no surprise for the future Kuchiki head's wedding. And a lot of whispers. Even tucked in a corner, without extending his senses, Higashino could hear plenty—and most of it was less than kind.
He had no idea how his Bankai—"sealing other captains' zanpakutō"—had morphed into "I exist solely to fight Shinigami." No doubt the Tsunayashiro had helped that rumor along.
They wanted to weld him to their ship. Who knew how much grease they'd used behind the scenes.
Too bad they didn't realize such tactics only benefited a certain "insignificant" man.
Fortunately, Higashino's loyalty to another man hadn't wavered; the barbs didn't land deep.
From any angle, he and the Gotei 13 were destined to be opposed—no one was wrong about that.
"What exactly are you trying to do, Shuuichi-dono?"
A petite silhouette sat across from the lonely drinker, eyes locked to his.
"Before answering, I should ask you something. Are you asking as the little girl I once knew—Shaolin—or as Captain of the 2nd Division, Soi Fon?"
Higashino swirled his cup, sounding casual.
"What's the difference?"
Soi Fon's small head favored straight lines.
"If you're Shaolin, I'll say I only want to show Soul Society that none of us back then were traitors. We weren't the ones in the wrong. So when the Tsunayashiro offered me a chance to wash the stain away, I accepted without hesitation.
If you're Soi Fon, I'll tell you this: Yamamoto was wrong. This order is rotten; the Gotei 13 long ceased to represent justice. I'm back to rebuild a new order. I'll tell him—and all of you—that those you branded 'traitor' aren't necessarily traitors. They are so only because you crudely defined them that way. Nothing more."
He knew she was the mouthpiece; behind her, other Gotei Shinigami were asking the same question.
Besides the nobles who heard him at the Tsunayashiro manor, besides Aizen, besides Mayuri—every captain had questions about his high-profile return.
Especially now, a month after the Katana-gari-shū's announcement, with no members but him—everyone wanted to see who the first recruit would be.
"So, Shuuichi-dono—you still believe the incident back then was the work of a collusion between 3rd Captain Ichimaru Gin, 5th Captain Aizen Sōsuke, and 9th Captain Tōsen Kaname?"
She ignored his latter words. Good news: Shuuichi-dono seemed the same man. Bad news: his conviction would never be accepted.
"Shuuichi-dono, you know that day all three had airtight alibis. You have only your own testimony. Central 46 won't believe you, and neither will the Head-Captain."
"I know. That's why I've come back in person." He met her eyes, a hard light flickering. "Ichimaru Gin, Tōsen Kaname, Aizen Sōsuke—I'll get something on them. One day, I'll win justice for myself—and for all who were falsely condemned."
"Have you considered another possibility? That you were blinded that day?"
Soi Fon knew his heart was good—but suspected he was on a wrong road.
No one knew why he was so certain it was Ichimaru and Tōsen. Everyone knew they had perfect alibis.
It was Soul Society's consensus—unbreakable by Shuuichi-dono.
She didn't know the truth was already close at hand.
That it wasn't Higashino whose eyes had been clouded, but the masses whose five senses had been deceived.
"Shaolin, I know what you want to say. I have my conviction—that's what brought me here. Don't try to shake it."
You can't wake someone who's pretending to sleep.
Higashino was that sleeper.
He knew this talk would reach Yamamoto Genryūsai's ears.
Consider it a prophylactic. Whether the old man took the hint—who could say?
He'd sent what needed sending. If they moved first afterward, don't blame him for lacking "martial virtue."
While he attended Byakuya's wedding, far away in Las Noches an experimental Arrancar stepped off the table.
"As you requested, Aizen-sama, I've urgently retuned this Hollow—originally optimized for capturing Shinigami abilities—toward a Quincy profile. That said, to my knowledge there are no powerful Quincy in the World of the Living right now. Why the sudden interest?"
Szayelaporro eyed the rushed, imperfect product with private irritation.
Compared to the inconsequential Quincy out there, he preferred Shinigami—the present enemy.
He'd spent over a decade developing a Shinigami-targeted "ability-capture" type Arrancar, and just recently Aizen had dropped by Las Noches and said, "No need."
Once, Szayelaporro had argued the approach was inefficient. Who had insisted? And now—"No need." Was this a joke?
Aizen didn't hear his inner tantrum. "There aren't now. What about the future, Szayel? Learn to prepare the umbrella before the rain."
An umbrella for "future rain," huh.
Outwardly respectful, inwardly cursing, Szayelaporro bit his tongue.
Quincy? A Gillian could make them drink from a firehose; no need for an anti-vice-captain Arrancar. Bull to kill a chicken.
"Where shall we deploy it, Aizen-sama? Per your orders we seeded clusters of low-level Hollows in the World of the Living and mapped Quincy positions. Here's a short list and distribution chart, with rough strength estimates."
He handed over a booklet.
Aizen skimmed it. One surname jumped out—strangely familiar.
His lips curved. A finger tapped the name.
"Her, then~"
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