West Rukongai, District 1—Junrin'an.
"Yaa~ I haven't been back in a century. Nothing's changed. Everyone's as warm and welcoming as ever."
"Don't be silly. Does this look welcoming?"
Yoruichi's golden eyes took in the empty streets.
"Everyone's… hiding. Is it because of us?"
The streets were deserted as if abandoned, but Orihime could feel people all around.
"I'd love to say no. But it sure looks like…"
Kisuke turned to the far, unmoving bulk of Seireitei.
You couldn't see it—only the vast wall, a fortress ring that blocked out everything within.
"Feels like they don't just see us as hostile intruders—they were told to expect us."
"Probably those people's doing. The Seireitei walls don't usually drop."
Yoruichi's tone was even, but heavier.
"Mr. Urahara, Miss Yoruichi—how do we get in?"
"Hmm… first we get this idiot to change out of that eyesore. If we sneak in with that, we'll be found in minutes."
"What's wrong with this?"
Kisuke spun in place, baffled.
"It's a normal shihakushō. Easier to mix in with the Gotei 13."
"Are you planning to crash a Captains' Meeting and walk around collecting intel?"
Orihime flinched as Yoruichi grabbed the white haori with the big 12 on the back and yanked it off him.
"There. Better. Let's go."
"Yoruichi? Where to?"
"Seireitei, of course. There's a gate—let's use it. Don't worry, I'm on good terms with the guard."
"Eeeh?!"
Even Orihime gaped. Kisuke muttered, "You're the reckless one…"
But Yoruichi set the pace; they could only follow.
At the White Road Gate (Shirakimon), a giant leapt out—no surprise.
"Hey, Jidanbō. Long time. Remember me?"
"'Course I do… Shihōin Yoruichi…"
The hulking, honest gatekeeper hefted his axes—and looked at the man in a shihakushō without a captain's coat.
"…and the great criminal Urahara Kisuke, whom you helped flee. You have the nerve to return and trample this pure land!"
The open hostility made Orihime glance at Yoruichi.
Weren't they friends? Kisuke's eyes slid away—as if the man in question had nothing to do with him. Yoruichi looked a little embarrassed.
"Ahem. Jidanbō, this is a misunderstanding. We were framed. Even if you don't trust Kisuke, trust me. We came to clear our names. Open up. I'll owe you."
"Since we're acquaintances, I'll warn you… If you step into Seireitei, you'll die."
He meant it.
"Don't worry Yoruichi and I are strong. And this lady's no slouch. 'Rampage through Seireitei' is a bit much, but we can take care of ourselves"
Jidanbō cut Kisuke a look.
"They say you're smart. I call that generous."
"?"
Kisuke glanced at Yoruichi.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He thinks we're underestimating the defense."
Even as she said it, Jidanbō put his arms into the gate and heaved it up.
"Thanks, Jidanbō!" Yoruichi called.
Orihime bowed, missing the odd look he gave them.
They slipped through to the other side.
And ran headlong into a crushing reiatsu.
"Ah—"
A man like a snake strolled up, eyes smiling.
"Should I say… welcome?"
"He is…"
"Gin Ichimaru. Third Division captain—the one who reported Rukia."
Yoruichi's voice was low.
"You expected us. But you alone can't stop us. So who else is—come out."
Kisuke stepped forward, light tone gone. Calm, steady.
What came next strained even his composure.
"As expected of the first Director of the Department of Research & Development. Your mind's too keen for a mere techie."
Boom!
A firm voice and firmer steps.
A towering figure with a helm like a warrior dropped from above.
"Seventh Division Captain, Sajin Komamura."
Orihime didn't need to ask; Yoruichi supplied the names as if listing basic facts one had to know.
"To see villains struck down at Seireitei's gate would have been a beautiful sight. Alas, I missed it…"
A black-skinned man arrived next, a cloud of shadow.
"Ninth Division Captain, Kaname Tōsen…"
By now, both Yoruichi and Kisuke had gone tight-faced.
And there was more—
"You really had the gall to stroll in. That's hard to forgive."
A white-haired boy approached, hand on the hilt at his back, jaw set.
"Those who trample order will be judged by it."
A proud young noble drifted up, a furious red-haired lieutenant at his side.
"Urahara Kisuke…! I'm going to cut you down myself!"
Seeing them, Yoruichi didn't name names first. She looked over her shoulder at Jidanbō.
He stood under the gate, expression righteous—as if to say, I told you.
"A trap…?"
Five captains at the gate—Kisuke could think of no other word.
"They didn't just predict our return. They had Jidanbō open the gate to let us in… To wipe us out in one go?"
"Jidanbō! You idiot—close the gate!"
A crisp, furious voice rang from afar.
Yoruichi heard it and abandoned any thought of fighting. She grabbed Orihime and turned to run.
"Kisuke!"
"Cry, Benihime!"
Kisuke released his Zanpakutō. Crimson arcs hacked apart drifting cherry blossoms, and a run of kidō spells tangled up the others just long enough for him to whirl and sprint.
Six captains at the gate—once it shut, they'd be dogs in a trap.
"Damn it!"
Soi Fon arrived late, face white with rage as the familiar figure vanished.
"Five captains, and you didn't keep one? And you—Jidanbō—why didn't you block their retreat!"
"This was Aizen's proposal, adopted by the Head Captain. Drive them off; cornered criminals do unpredictable things. That chaos would disrupt the execution."
Tōshirō explained evenly.
"Lure them into returning of their own will. Central 46's intent has been met."
"A month's stay of execution is plenty for him to get ready. He won't give up on the Hōgyoku."
"Our job is to keep Seireitei steady. Hold the line until the execution is done. Then we take Urahara's group—exposed and spent."
"Everyone stay calm. Do not abandon your post."
Click.
Byakuya silently sheathed Senbonzakura and left with a grim Renji.
"My, my. As expected of the Tenth Captain—so sober for someone so young. If I were a criminal, he's the last one I'd want to face. Troublesome to the extreme. How do you make a man like that less scary? I'll have to think on it. The enemy might try the same trick, after all~"
Gin didn't look at them. He fawned over Hitsugaya in a voice impossible to read as friendly, then sauntered off like a testing snake.
"Gin…"
Hitsugaya's frown deepened. He wanted to say more, but the man was already gone. Uneasy, he headed back to his barracks.
Tōsen and Komamura left together.
…Soi Fon stayed.
She stood just inside the gate, feeling somehow shut out.
Her slender figure looked cold and alone.
But her blood boiled.
Feelings long banked up surged and surged until she had to do something.
So—
Back in Second Division's stone forest—
BOOM!
Explosions rocked the hills.
Soi Fon wore the sleeveless, backless Executive Militia combat suit. Kidō pressure blazed white around wrists, ankles, and shoulders; every motion smashed things like a high-level spell.
Every blow was a high-level spell.
In a radius of kilometers, you'd struggle to find an unbroken pillar.
One figure, though, slipped through the smoke nearly untouched.
Shinomiya.
"You don't look happy, Captain. Call it for today. Your Shunkō's finished anyway, isn't it?"
"Shut up!"
Lightning-fast, she rushed him again.
He dodged smoothly. "I felt a big swell of reiatsu at the White Road Gate. Ichigo pinged me—asked what happened. I told him some old friends from the living world dropped by."
"They're invaders! Ryoka who bring disaster to Soul Society… and when did you get so slippery!"
Her storm of blows came with a grinding snarl.
"My shunpo isn't special. It's just… stable. And honestly, that one virtue is enough."
He knocked her right fist aside, turned, and whipped a back kick.
Meeting Shunkō with bare hands and reiatsu—she still found it remarkable, even after seeing it many times. Her anger cooled a notch; clarity returned.
Too late.
She ducked under the kick by a hair, planted her hands, and scythed down with her heel, a ferocious, clean counter—
—and he was already a step back.
What he'd taken from Shihōin thousand-day training had jacked his shunpo's stability. Any motion he made was smooth and ready, always in balance.
In close-in hakuda, that stability became preternatural coordination. Even slower motions could land first—evade, then counter.
Especially when your opponent's heart was unsteady.
He hadn't built out the offensive side yet.
But as a defense, it was already… top tier.
When Soi Fon recovered and brought him back into view, the first thing she saw was a stroke of blade-light so perfect it dazzled every time.
For a heartbeat—
She felt herself die.
"Feel a little… released?"
Shinomiya let go of the hilt.
He didn't look like he'd drawn at all.
"…"
She drew a long breath.
As much as she hated to admit it—every boiling thing inside her evaporated in that brush with death.
As if to prove those tangles meant nothing beside life.
"…Thanks."
Tap.
Something hit the ground.
She glanced down.
Her left ring-snake braid lay there.
The cut was glass-clean. The stroke had taken it.
"Maybe… take the thanks back."
Her shaken state had opened gaps; he'd overestimated her reaction and "slipped."
She shot him a glare.
"It's only hair. I dragged you into this. Even if you'd hurt me, I couldn't blame you."
She hesitated a beat, then cut off the other braid with her hand.
Balanced.
With the weight gone, her head felt lighter; she stared at the severed braids a moment, then clenched a fist and burned them to ash with kidō pressure.
"You said 'friends from the living world'… Who?"
"An orange-haired girl with a big sword."
"I see… I didn't look closely. My eyes were on her. That other bastard didn't even register."
"From far away, she looked the same. Not changed at all."
"That's… good, isn't it? Or do you want to see remorse? You can't see that from the outside."
"It's not that. It's that seeing that familiar look dragged up the old her—and who I was then. I couldn't keep calm. If she had changed a lot, maybe I'd be less angry."
"And then you'd be disappointed—because she wouldn't be the person you knew."
Shinomiya put it cleanly.
"…"
Soi Fon blinked, then gave herself a bitter smile.
"You might be right… Seems I'll live in her shadow my whole life."
"Why so sure?"
"Because it was decided from the start… Hey, what are you doing?"
He tucked the denreishinki away.
"I was going to play you a fitting line. But it's not necessary… Your reaction doesn't look like 'living in a shadow' at all."
"In fact—when you're working, fighting, asking me questions… Do you think of her then? You can't—not every moment. Don't toss around 'my whole life' so lightly."
"…"
Her mouth opened. She had no rebuttal.
"If she's your friend—and if she sees you as one—then bring her back. Whatever it takes."
"Break her legs if you have to. Drag her home."
His words rang like hammered steel.
"…B-break her legs? No, I— I don't think Yoruichi… Running may not have been wrong."
"Then kill her. Sever the past. Cut the tie. There are plenty of ways to be rid of a shadow."
"No—wait… Killing's out of the question. She's… Ugh. Whatever."
Suddenly she was tired.
Compared to Yoruichi, this man constantly throwing her puzzles might be worse.
Maybe… Yoruichi was easier to handle.
Beep-beep-beep…
Shinomiya's denreishinki chirped. He checked it.
"My teacher needs me… Excuse me, Captain."
"Huh? Oh—go. Wait. Things are unstable right now. Be careful. Don't run around. You're strong, but… some things shouldn't be yours to face."
"Sorry."
"…What are you apologizing for?"
"For worrying you. I feel a bit bad about that."
"It's nothing. I owe you more than I can repay… I meant to start paying it back, and the debt keeps growing. You're a handful."
"That's the secret to getting along with people. Don't mind it. If you get fed up, just punch me. I won't say you're unreasonable."
"You said it."
"I did. See you."
He waved without looking back and vanished in shunpo.
The little lift she'd felt at being given permission to hit him faded with his departure. She looked up at the setting sun.
Living in someone's shadow, yet feeling the sun's warmth.
That didn't seem right…
"Isn't that so, Shinomiya?"
Her cheeks, dyed by afterglow, might have been smiling again.
-------
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