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Chapter 54 - Chapter 54: “Admiration is the feeling farthest from understanding.”

"Captain Soi Fon?"

The sudden call snapped him out of his thoughts.

Shinomiya looked up at the woman in front of him, arms folded as always, cool and imperious.

"Who else would it be? You didn't even notice my reiatsu as I walked up. Yes, this is my jurisdiction, but you're far too lax—that's not like you. What happened?"

Soi Fon's fine brows drew tighter. Her words were sharp, but beneath them was a dense, unsettled doubt.

Shinomiya didn't answer right away. He glanced around, as if putting something together.

"It's nothing serious. I just left the Shin'ō Academy and went for a walk."

"I think best that way," he added. "Maybe because I've been to Second Division before, my feet just took the familiar route. Before I knew it, I was here."

"I see."

Soi Fon gave a small nod; she accepted that.

"Still, you've come a long way. If it took this much walking and you still haven't figured it out, it must not be a trivial problem."

"Even the shrewd run into trouble when their memory won't cooperate."

Shinomiya let out a sigh.

"…So it isn't thinking—it's trying to remember?"

"Exactly."

His expression didn't look like a lie. Soi Fon relaxed a little; the corner of her mouth quirked up.

"For a long-lived shinigami, a faulty memory won't do. I don't want you becoming a captain someday only to turn into a forgetful scatterbrain."

"Since I'm free at the moment, how about you try Second Division's interrogation methods? Excellent for jogging memories."

"…Should I not show up when you're angry…?"

Shinomiya's face froze.

"Kidding. I'm not angry. I'm actually in a good mood. Thanks to you, Second Division's reputation has improved. If I can take this chance to repay the favor, all the better."

"I appreciate it, Captain, but… interrogation sounds like it could backfire."

"I said I was kidding!"

Soi Fon snorted and shot him a cutting look, then turned on her heel.

"Come with me."

Shinomiya tipped his head to the sun. From blazing noon to the edge of dusk—he really had been walking a long time. It felt like an omen of a grim fate ahead.

It wasn't.

Soi Fon brought him to an izakaya inside Second Division's sector.

"Oh, right, I forgot to mention… thanks to you, this place's foot traffic has clearly dropped."

"Captain Soi Fon, even if you're trying to weave a charge around me, I won't let you blackmail me into joining Second Division."

"…I really am tempted to try that earlier method to help you."

Soon the server set down sake and standard tempura and side dishes.

After she withdrew, Shinomiya considered the unremarkable food, lifted the sake and took a light sniff.

"I think I get your point."

"The food's average, the sake's great. But now that Second's name is better, everyone's busier and has less time to come blow off steam. Fewer customers."

"The fact you're still this sharp tells me there's nothing wrong with your mental state."

The line made Shinomiya reassess her. So—she knew how to probe like this too. Or perhaps she'd always known, and simply hadn't needed to use it often.

"You think of everything, Captain. Let me treat this time."

"No need. Consider it part of paying you back… more importantly, tell me about your problem. I'm curious."

Shinomiya watched her eyes narrow like a cat's; he could feel the curiosity writhing under that stern exterior.

"Fine… in short, I'm one step away from Bankai. And I'm stuck on that last step."

"My Zanpakutō asked me a question: what is the thing I've feared most up to now…?"

"Sure, the best way to beat fear is to face it. But if I can't remember it, how do I face it? For all I know, maybe I'm not even afraid of it anymore."

"So I've spent the whole day combing my past, trying to spot a thread—but I've come up empty."

Hearing the frank confession, Soi Fon felt the quiet satisfaction of being trusted and recognized—and a dizzy disbelief that he'd reached this point so fast.

Only one step left… only one step from carving his name into Soul Society's history as she had.

How long had it been since that tea party? Barely half a month.

A first-year was about to achieve Bankai.

That other brat, "Kurosaki Ichigo," probably wasn't far behind.

It wasn't that the world had changed; it was accelerating into its next era, so fast that even she—still fairly young—felt herself turning into a remnant of the old one.

"Hah…"

Soi Fon exhaled, forcing her mind back to the point.

"The thing you feared most… in theory, something like that leaves a deep mark. Even if you no longer fear it, you don't forget it—like you don't forget a powerful foe you once beat."

"If you can't recall it, that means only one thing… you wanted to forget."

"Maybe."

Shinomiya admitted it easily.

He hadn't always had a cushy life and the strength to steel his heart. Now, he could face anything. No running, no fear. He wouldn't bow to anyone.

Which only made it harder to step back into the old, ordinary him, and remember what that boy had feared.

"That's the problem. If you don't know your own heart, you can't grasp your Bankai's whole form—can't… accept it."

"I've been in a similar spot."

Soi Fon's face clouded with a memory she'd rather not revisit.

"But my experience probably won't help you."

"Not necessarily. If I knew what you feared most, maybe it would spark something. But I won't pry into your privacy."

She hadn't planned to answer. But when he said that, she bristled.

"You said it yourself—the best way to defeat fear is to face it. Hiding something that trivial only makes it look like… I'm afraid of people knowing I never conquered it."

"Easy, Captain. I'm not goading you."

"I can tell. I'm the Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukidō—telling honest from fake isn't hard."

"…Then I'm all ears. And once I leave this room, I'll act like I was never here."

"…No need to take it that far."

Even so, the promise eased her. Shinomiya refilled her cup with an attitude of scrupulous respect; that, too, helped.

Soi Fon gathered herself, and recounted the bond between the Shihōin and Fon clans, how she'd served Shihōin Yoruichi as lord and retainer.

Yet she still hid parts of it.

She only said that there was a friend she would have helped no matter what—who, when trouble came, threw her aside and betrayed their precious bond.

Thud!

She slammed her cup to the table.

Murder flashed in her eyes. She'd meant to speak only as a reference for Shinomiya, but the more she talked, the hotter she ran. Her teeth ground audibly.

"That bastard never saw me as anything. I admired her, I revered her, I… and she chose to face it alone—for the sake of another scum I can't stand!"

"In other words, to her, that scum mattered more than me, more than what we had."

"Even if she did something wrong, she should've called me."

"I know she didn't want to drag me down… but that presumption makes me furious. What a joke—who gave her the right to decide without asking me, to trample my will?"

"She never… considered me a friend!"

"My promise, my convictions… left with no chance to ever be fulfilled."

"That day, I felt a fear I'd never known."

"That day… the first half of my life ended."

Shinomiya watched in silence, her cheeks flushed—anger, drink, or both—until she calmed.

"I don't want to comment on your past, Captain," he said finally. "But I think this end was inevitable."

"You mean she was bound to betray me? You don't understand who she is. Without that bastard, she would never have betrayed anyone."

"I mean your relationship was unhealthy. Problems were going to surface—if not because of anyone outside, then because of clashing ideals. Think back—was she often impatient with you?"

Soi Fon's temper faded as his steady words flowed; she frowned, thinking.

"…Yes. Not just occasionally. It was getting frequent. She didn't want to hear what I said, avoided my counsel… You're saying that wasn't the other bastard's whispering?"

"I think it was the way you two interacted. As for why…"

Shinomiya drew out his denreishinki. Under Soi Fon's puzzled look, he tapped a recording and hit 'play.'

A deep, magnetic baritone filled the mic—compelling, unmistakable.

"Admiration… is the feeling farthest from understanding."

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