People? Props?
Nemu set down the empty soba bowl, only a few vegetable leaves floating in the broth. She looked across the table at Shiraishi, confusion flickering in her eyes.
She had already expressed her wish to return to Mayuri-sama. Why was Shiraishi asking again? She couldn't understand.
There had to be a reason, but she couldn't grasp it.
"You'd better think it over," Shiraishi said earnestly. "Can you really be happy, going back to a father like that?"
The question stunned her. Her happiest memories were from childhood.
Back then, she hadn't needed to learn or accomplish anything. Simply breathing, eating, drinking like a normal being had been enough to satisfy Mayuri-sama.
Akon had once said that during those years, Mayuri-sama lived as though in a dream.
But as she grew older, everything changed. Dissatisfaction replaced indulgence. Mayuri beat her, berated her—calling her both a "masterpiece" and "useless."
He conducted experiments on her regularly, forcing her to abandon normal meals in favor of strange medicines.
She understood why.
Mayuri wanted to advance the Artificial Shinigami Project. But she failed to meet the standards—unable to produce reiatsu, unable to wield a zanpakutō.
Even if her lifespan surpassed the six earlier failures, she was still a failure.
"…I don't know," Nemu murmured, lowering her eyes. "But I feel safe just being near Mayuri-sama."
Shiraishi sighed. "Nemu, do you know what Stockholm syndrome is?"
She shook her head.
"It's when victims develop feelings for their abusers. Instead of resisting, they even defend them."
He explained briefly, then pressed: "Did Mayuri often beat and scold you, then alter your body?"
Nemu nodded softly.
Isane Kotetsu could no longer remain silent. Her face flushed with anger. "Nemu, if Captain Kurotsuchi treated you like that, you should resist! File a complaint with Central 46! If that fails, request a transfer! Even a captain has no right to abuse and insult his lieutenant!"
Nemu flinched at Isane's anger. She stammered, "Lord Mayuri's experiments were for my own good. The punishments were because I failed my duties. It wasn't his fault."
Her excuses faltered as Shiraishi cut her off. "No. That's exactly what Stockholm syndrome looks like. You've grown so accustomed to his abuse that you accept it as normal. With so little contact with others, your values have been twisted.
You are a gentle person. But gentleness is not a license for others to hurt you."
"I…" Nemu's confidence wavered. Her eyes turned to Isane. "Kotetsu… isn't this normal?"
"Of course it's not normal!" Isane nearly shouted.
She knew too well the pain of being scolded and belittled by superiors—yet in her case, it was only verbal. If both spirit and body were battered over and over, how could anyone continue to live like a human being?
"Nemu, the Female Shinigami Association will support you," Isane declared firmly. "We won't let Captain Kurotsuchi keep torturing you!"
For the first time, Isane forgot her fear of the Twelfth Division. She only wanted to save her friend.
Nemu, however, could not imagine openly defying Mayuri. The thought terrified her.
"Then I'll leave it to you," Shiraishi said at last. "I can't stay here any longer without drawing too much attention."
"Wait!" Something inside Nemu shifted. She rose abruptly. "I'll go with you."
Shiraishi blinked in surprise. "…What?"
"If I can cure my illness," Nemu whispered, half to herself, "maybe I can evolve again…" But she stopped short, unwilling to speak the rest aloud. Neither Shiraishi nor Isane would want to hear it.
She changed course. "Can you take me with you?"
Shiraishi's lips curled into a smile. "I don't mind traveling with such a beauty."
Nemu inclined her head politely. "Goodbye, Kotetsu."
"Take care of yourselves," Isane replied softly. She didn't try to stop her. As long as Nemu wasn't returning to the Twelfth Division, there was no need.
Nemu and Shiraishi left the soba shop together, quickly disappearing into the bustle of Kitamachi.
Isane lingered only to settle the bill. She strolled down the street, ears filled with the noise of merchants and laughter.
Then—silence.
Masked members of the Onmitsukidō appeared, their sudden presence snuffing out the lively atmosphere. Shops closed one after another. Townsfolk fled like water draining from a basin.
By the time Suì-Fēng arrived from the West Tenth District, Kitamachi lay deserted.
Her silver-gray eyes swept over Isane. "Where is Shiraishi?"
"He's gone," Isane answered truthfully.
Suì-Fēng's eyes narrowed. "As the Third Seat of the Fourth Division, you were dining with a criminal. Do you have no dignity as a member of the Gotei 13?"
"I can't beat him," Isane replied weakly.
Suì-Fēng raised an eyebrow but said nothing. If it had been her own subordinates, she would have torn into them—but Isane was Fourth Division, outside her authority.
"Write a full report," Suì-Fēng ordered instead. "Where did he go?"
Isane pointed west.
"After him!" Suì-Fēng barked, though she doubted she could catch him.
When she and the Onmitsukidō vanished, Isane finally exhaled in relief. She turned to leave for the Seireitei—when her communicator buzzed.
She answered with trembling hands. "Hello?"
A cold, serpentine voice hissed through. "This is Mayuri Kurotsuchi."
Isane nearly dropped the device. "C-Captain Kurotsuchi… what do you want?"
"You allowed Nemu to leave. Why didn't you stop her?"
For once, Isane's fear melted into anger. Her voice steadied. "Because it was her choice. She's tired of your torture."
"Nonsense!" Mayuri's furious roar nearly deafened her. "Everything about Nemu was created by me. She cannot disobey me!"
"She is not a tool. She is a person, with her own will! Even if you're her creator, you can't change that!"
There was silence on the other end. Even through rage, Mayuri was calculating. He couldn't deny that her words carried some truth. Still, he snarled, "Only I can perfect her evolution. Not you. Not anyone else."
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