It Smells So Good
News spread quickly within the Seireitei. The fact that the Second, Eighth, Eleventh, and Twelfth Divisions had all been dispatched to capture Shiraishi could not be hidden from the Fourth Division.
After all, the Fourth Division's duty was to rescue the wounded.
Captain Unohana Retsu, concerned about the potential number of casualties, inspected the inventory of the Rescue Center. Due to the negligence of the warehouse manager, medical supplies were running dangerously low.
She dispatched Kotetsu Isane to purchase hemostatics, anti-inflammatories, bandages, and other necessities, lest the division be unable to treat the injured.
Isane never expected that she would cross paths with the very man being hunted—Shiraishi—in the town of Runrin'an.
Not knowing how to handle the encounter, she chose to avoid him, pretending not to see, and tried to hurry on with her errand.
"Wait, Isane, it's me."
Her heart skipped. The one I shouldn't touch… Isane muttered inwardly, quickening her pace. But suddenly, her white belt was grabbed from behind.
Shiraishi stepped in front of her, sorrow clouding his expression. "It's been a while since we last met. Have you forgotten me already?"
"Ah, Shiraishi. What a coincidence," Isane said awkwardly. She could not avoid him, so she pretended to run into him by chance. Her poor attempt at lying was transparent.
Shiraishi narrowed his eyes. "Why did you run away just now?"
"Really? There were so many people around… I must not have noticed."
Her shoulders hunched guiltily, as if trying to shrink herself out of sight.
Before the tension grew, Nemu Kurotsuchi stepped forward. "Kotetsu, it's been a while."
"Ne–Nemu? Why are you here?" Isane was genuinely shocked. She had been so focused on Shiraishi she hadn't noticed Nemu at all.
"I was captured by Shiraishi two days ago. I've been with him ever since."
Isane's expression hardened.
Though the Female Shinigami Association welcomed all female shinigami, only a few were active members. Still, most had good relationships, and Isane could not stand seeing a friend treated poorly. Her courage surged. "What's going on?"
Shiraishi raised his hands innocently. "Blame Mayuri Kurotsuchi. That guy actually used a Rukongai resident as a living bomb to try to kill me. I fought him off, and he escaped. So I kept Nemu to spite him."
"Using a Rukongai resident as a bomb?" Isane's brows furrowed. "That's outrageous… I should report this to Central 46 immediately."
Shiraishi blinked in surprise. "Wait—you're a shinigami?"
Isane froze. She had never revealed her true identity to Shiraishi. The courage she'd felt moments ago crumbled. "I—I… well—"
"She's the Third Seat of the Fourth Division," Nemu supplied flatly.
"Haha, so that's it." Isane rubbed the back of her head awkwardly, wishing she could disappear.
Shiraishi clutched his chest dramatically. "My pure heart has been deceived. If you don't treat me to dinner, I'll never forgive you."
Isane chuckled nervously. A meal wasn't too much to ask. "Fine. But later—I still have work to do."
"What are you busy with?"
"Buying medicine for the wounded. With four divisions dispatched to hunt you—"
She stopped mid-sentence, realizing the irony. If Shiraishi caused no casualties, there would be no wounded to treat.
"Don't worry," Shiraishi said with a grin. "Not a single person was hurt. Now, about that meal…" He gently placed a hand on her neck, half-joking, half-threatening. "Do you have time now?"
Isane hesitated. "If anyone from the Gotei sees me with you, they'll report me to Central 46."
"Then we'll say I forced you into it, captivated by your beauty. You'll be fine," Shiraishi insisted, pressing her. "Come on, let's go to Kitamachi before anyone notices."
At last, she gave up her excuses. "…Alright."
"Nemu, lead the way."
"Yes." Nemu nodded. She avoided the crowded streets, leaping to the rooftops instead, guiding them swiftly to Kitamachi.
Soon, the bustling district came into view. Even before they landed, the aroma of grilled food and sweet confections filled the air.
Descending into a quiet corner, they stepped onto the lively street.
The first stall sold kabayaki eel. The owner fanned the grill with practiced ease, filling the air with a savory fragrance.
Shiraishi inhaled deeply. "Three servings, please!"
"Two are enough," Isane protested anxiously.
Shiraishi gave her a puzzled look. "Smells amazing—don't you want any?"
Isane swallowed hard but shook her head. "No. I usually eat light—porridge only. I don't touch heavy food like grilled meat."
Shiraishi eyed her figure. "Lose weight? With that build?"
She glared at him. "You and Nemu eat it."
But Nemu was equally hesitant. "Mayuri-sama never allows me to eat… this kind of thing."
Still, when Shiraishi handed her a portion, she bit into it. The crisp charred skin gave way to tender, savory eel soaked in sweet sauce. For once, Nemu's expression brightened. "This… this is wonderful! May I have more?"
"Of course." Shiraishi grinned and handed her the rest.
Then he turned to Isane, waving the eel temptingly under her nose. "Come on. Indulge just once. You can work it off later."
Her lips trembled, her resolve breaking. "You're a devil," she muttered, biting into the eel. Her eyes lit up despite herself. "So delicious…! Ugh, if I gain weight, it's all your fault."
"No problem. I don't mind taking responsibility," Shiraishi said with a sly smile, eating his own share.
From there, they toured Kitamachi's food stalls together—tempura, sweet red bean cakes, daifuku, oden, roasted squid, dumplings, soba noodles.
By the end, all three were stuffed.
Shiraishi stopped, sensing the shift in the air. His spiritual perception prickled. "…They've found me."
He glanced at Nemu. "Do you want to come with me—or return to the Twelfth Division?"
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