— — — — — —
Soul Society, 5th Division Barracks
After arriving back in Soul Society, Kaname Tosen and Gin Ichimaru excused themselves and left.
It was nearly morning already, and as Captains of the 9th and 3rd Divisions respectively, it wouldn't be ideal for them to be seen lingering too long. Their presence at this hour might raise questions and interfere with the plan—so they slipped away early.
The ones remaining behind were Aizen Sōsuke and Ryo.
. . .
Twenty minutes later
Ryo sat cross-legged on the tatami floor, holding a slender, finely-crafted blade in his hands.
—A Zanpakutō.
Forged from a Shinigami's very soul, this spiritual weapon takes shape based on the wielder's own essence. It's the Shinigami's primary means of battle.
The one in Ryo's hands now—about 1.3 meters long—was a standard Asauchi, the unfinished base form of a Zanpakutō. He had just received it from Aizen.
Ryo stared intently at the blade, his voice low and grim.
"So… how many had to die to make this thing?"
"Roughly five Shinigami souls went into this one," Aizen replied mildly from across the room, still exuding his usual calm, kind demeanor.
He was practicing calligraphy, a habit he used to center himself every morning. Even though he hadn't slept all night, the routine hadn't changed.
Ryo scoffed under his breath at Aizen's answer.
"Soul Society really is messed up, huh."
Shinigami harvest souls from the living world every year, some of those souls become new Shinigami, and then they get Zanpakutōs—crafted using the souls of dead Shinigami.
Talk about irony. Recycled from the people, used on the people.
"It's a world built on deception," Aizen said, his brush gliding calmly across the paper.
Meanwhile, Ryo began channeling his Reiatsu into the Asauchi—an essential step for forming a true Zanpakutō.
Every Shinigami has to go through this. Well… except for Kurosaki Ichigo, who kinda hijacked Rukia's.
While Ryo worked, Aizen casually added, "Even though I made this one myself, and it bypasses certain restrictions… I'd advise you not to pursue Bankai."
"Huh?" Ryo looked up, narrowing his eyes at Aizen.
Without looking up, Aizen continued writing, his face expressionless.
"Hikifune Kirio of the Royal Guard—the Zero Division—holds dominion over the original naming of all things in Soul Society. If you fully unlock your Zanpakutō and reach Bankai, its name will be revealed to her... and she may be able to interfere with it."
Ryo's brows twitched. He cursed silently: That sneaky bastard.
He remembered wondering back when he read Bleach why Aizen never used Bankai. Not even at the very end, when he was pulling out all the stops.
Turns out, it wasn't just arrogance or secrecy—he was guarding against a blindside from the Royal Guard.
That left a bitter taste.
It pissed him off. Royally.
He wiped down his blade in silence, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
It sucks, doesn't it? Having a power right there in front of you and knowing you can't reach for it.
In that moment, Ryo finally understood why Aizen resented the Royal Guard.
Because he did too.
It's like creating a novel, building the world, shaping every character—and then being told its IP rights don't belong to you.
Screw that.
Still polishing his blade, Ryo muttered, "If the chance comes... how about we take the Royal Guard down?"
"One day," Aizen replied calmly, finally pausing his writing to glance at the door.
Slide~
The sliding door opened with a soft rasp. A young woman entered, arms full of laundry, her hair tied back in a neat bun.
"Captain Aizen, I finished washing the clothes from the other day. Also, since the weather's getting warmer, I thought it might be time to switch the blankets in your room—huh?"
She froze the moment she saw Ryo.
(Wait—why is there a man in Captain Aizen's room?)
(What's going on?!)
Ryo's expression turned a bit awkward. "Ah, this is...?"
Sitting at his desk, Aizen shook his head and sighed.
"Still forgetting people, huh? Ryo, you've really let your memory slip. That's my Vice-Captain, Hinamori Momo."
"Ohhh!" Ryo snapped his fingers like he'd just remembered. "Of course! I almost didn't recognize her."
Ah yes, Aizen's devoted little fan—Hinamori Momo. The same one who got stabbed three times and still didn't die. Clingy, delusional, and practically glued to Aizen's shadow.
No wonder she did his laundry and fussed over his blankets. She was already playing house.
Momo began to sweat nervously.
(Crap... I didn't recognize Mr. Ryo either.)
If Aizen found out she didn't remember a seated officer, would he think she was the one with memory problems?
What if he deemed her unfit to handle squad duties and replaced her?
No way. That couldn't happen!
She quickly plastered on a forced smile. "Of course, Ryo-seki…!"
Fake it till you make it. Besides, she kind of recognized his face.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced—she'd seen his name on a roster while sorting division files. He was the 10th seat of the 5th Division.
Relieved, she smiled sincerely this time. "So what brings you here so early today? Official business?"
Ryo gave her a relaxed shrug. "Something like that. I already filed the report."
"I see." Momo nodded, then looked toward Aizen. "Captain, what about these clothes?"
"Just put them where they usually go," Aizen said with a kind smile.
"Yes, sir!" she replied quickly and disappeared into the other room.
Ryo glanced at her retreating back, then looked at Aizen.
"Is she your little wife or something?"
Aizen didn't respond. He simply smiled, his gaze calm and distant.
"Ohhh," Ryo said with a knowing nod.
{Translation: Not important.}
Still, he found it amusing.
Was there really any warmth left in Aizen?
That girl got stabbed three damn times and still clung to him like a puppy. Sure, she was lucky to survive, but Aizen… Aizen was walking contradiction.
Ryo didn't care much about Momo anyway.
She was doomed—probably by the very man she adored most.
Because when it came to Aizen, love didn't exist.
Soon, Momo returned, bowed to Aizen, and started to leave.
But Aizen stopped her with a smile. "Momo, it seems Ryo has forgotten the patrol routes again. Would you show him around Seireitei?"
"Eh?"
Momo blinked, clearly stunned. 'He forgot that too?'
Still, she didn't question the order. "Of course, Captain."
"Tour guide, huh?" Ryo smirked, standing up and slinging the blade over his shoulder.
"Can I wander around as I please?"
"Do what you want," Aizen said, picking up his brush again.
Ryo shrugged and followed after Momo as they exited the barracks.
— — —
Seireitei's Side Streets
With a serious look on her face, Momo scolded him. "Ryo, honestly… forgetting the layout of Seireitei? That's a bit ridiculous."
"Aw, the vice-captain is so serious—totally not cute at all."
Ryo grinned, but in his mind, he was comparing her to Black Rabbit.
That bunny always took things too seriously too. She'd shoulder burdens by herself, even during her downtime. But in terms of looks? She was in a whole different league—divine-tier beauty.
Momo, by comparison, was... well, just a normal girl.
"Not cute...?!" Momo looked genuinely offended.
She was already annoyed.
The 5th Division had always been the gold standard in Soul Society. Under Captain Aizen, they had a flawless record.
And now they had a seated officer who couldn't even navigate Seireitei?
Come on! They already had one Kenpachi who couldn't find his way around. Did they really need another?
Maybe this was why Aizen had her show him around.
And now this guy was calling her uncute?
Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.
She was fuming for a second, but then reconsidered.
Maybe… maybe it wasn't really Ryo's fault.
If he genuinely had poor memory, maybe his whole life was hard. It wouldn't be fair to expect perfect conduct.
With a sigh, she softened her tone and said, "Okay, here's what we'll do. I'll show you around the 5th Division's jurisdiction today. Tonight, I'll draw up a map for you. Try to memorize it. If that doesn't work… we'll figure something else out."
Ryo stopped walking.
He looked at her silently for a moment.
"…What is it?" Momo blinked and touched her cheek, wondering if something was on her face.
Ryo didn't answer right away. He just studied her for a second before saying flatly:
"Vice-Captain Hinamori, let me give you a bit of advice: admiration is the furthest distance from understanding."
"Huh?" Hinamori Momo tilted her head, confused. She had no idea what he meant.
But Ryo didn't explain.
He turned his head slightly—looking toward a bend in the alley.
From around the corner, a gentle, graceful figure stepped into view. Wearing a Captain's haori, her long braided hair tied beneath her chin—
Captain Retsu Unohana of the 4th Division.
Ryo narrowed his eyes slightly…
.
.
.