Ichigo didn't remember stepping through the Dangai. He only remembered the cold.
Not the cold of winter. This was different, like being scraped raw from the inside. The reishi path Urahara had laid for him was unstable, narrow, and nearly collapsed when he crossed. Every pulse of his spirit pressure stirred the walls around him like a breath inside a dying body.
When he emerged into Soul Society, the world looked darker than he remembered.
There were no guards.
No klaxons.
Just silence and snow.
He crouched low in the shadow of a crumbled shrine, senses flaring out in all directions. It had been nearly a year since he'd last stood on these grounds. The buildings looked the same. But the air felt... emptier. As if the walls themselves were watching, too afraid to speak.
Zangetsu's voice stirred in the back of his mind. Not words, only the feeling of a warning. Not yet. Not here.
Ichigo moved through Seireitei like a ghost, avoiding main roads, slipping through alleys, eyes scanning the skies for Hell Butterflies or scouts. He saw neither.
That in itself was unnatural.
His destination was clear. The old execution grounds, Sōkyoku Hill, where he had once fought to save Rukia, where Aizen had once revealed his betrayal. A perfect place for secrets to resurface.
He approached at dawn.
The snow was undisturbed. The twin peaks flanking the hill rose like frozen sentries, unmoving. No birds called. No wind stirred the trees.
And there, standing at the edge of the Sōkyoku platform, was Sosuke Aizen.
He wore a plain black coat. No haori. No blindfold. His eyes were open.
Ichigo drew his blade as he stepped onto the stone path.
"You really are free," he said.
Aizen didn't turn. "Freedom is an illusion, Ichigo. But I'm less shackled than I was, if that comforts you."
"It doesn't."
"Then we're off to a good start."
Ichigo took two steps closer, but his grip on Zangetsu never loosened. "Urahara said you helped him."
Aizen gave a faint smile. "I've helped many people. It's how they repay me that tends to disappoint."
"Did you kill the Central 46?"
"No. But I was happy to see them dead."
Ichigo's jaw tightened. "They were writing names on the scroll, weren't they?"
"Some of them. Others believed they were protecting the balance. A few simply enjoyed watching souls vanish. But the scroll's true master," Aizen turned to him now, "is still very much alive."
Ichigo lowered his sword, just slightly. "Yamamoto."
Aizen nodded once.
Ichigo didn't want to believe it. Even after Urahara's warning. Even after the scroll opened itself.
"He taught us all," Ichigo said quietly. "He protected Soul Society for a thousand years."
Aizen stepped forward. His voice didn't rise, but the air around him shifted.
"He protected an idea. An illusion. The balance is not what you think it is, Ichigo. It was never about order. It was about containment. Do you know how many times this world has ended and restarted? How many names were wiped from existence to maintain a perfect ledger?"
Ichigo shook his head. "That's not possible. We'd remember."
"You don't remember because the scroll erases even memory. Not just the soul. The entire trace of its presence. Once a name is written, it ceases to be. Forever."
The wind picked up.
Aizen's hair danced slightly in the breeze. He raised a hand, and the scroll appeared.
Not physically. Not bound. It hovered before them both, pages fluttering though no hand touched them.
Ichigo saw names again. Hundreds. Thousands. Each line written in deep red.
One blinked.
He stepped closer.
"Renji."
Aizen's voice dropped. "It appeared last night."
Ichigo clenched his fists. "He's alive. I saw him two weeks ago."
"Alive, yes. But marked. That's the first step. In three days, unless the name is removed, he'll vanish."
Ichigo turned to him. "Then tell me how to stop it."
Aizen studied him. "Why would I help you?"
"You already are. Unless this is a trap."
"Oh, it is," Aizen said with a smirk. "But not for you. I want you to find Yamamoto. I want you to confront him. I want you to ask him why your name came first."
Ichigo felt something inside him flinch.
"You think I was the test."
"I know you were. But it failed. You're still here."
The scroll fluttered again. The names faded.
A blank page surfaced.
Aizen stepped away from it. "Every day, a new page appears. One name. One sentence. One judgment."
Ichigo stepped to the edge. "Who writes it?"
"I've asked myself that for decades. The ink doesn't match any form of kido. The script shifts with the reader. It's not Zanpakuto magic. It's older."
Ichigo reached toward the page.
It stayed blank.
Aizen tilted his head. "Interesting. It usually reacts by now."
Ichigo's fingers brushed the edge. For a heartbeat, he felt something, like fingers brushing back.
Then a single word appeared in scarlet ink:
Truth.
Ichigo recoiled. "What does that mean?"
Aizen looked pleased. "That, I believe, is your sentence."
The scroll snapped shut and vanished.
Ichigo turned to him. "You said I had three days."
"For Renji. You? Yours has already passed."
Ichigo looked down at his hands.
They were still there.
"I don't understand."
Aizen folded his arms. "You were judged unworthy, Ichigo. But something interfered. Your soul resisted. The scroll should have consumed you. Instead, it left you marked. And when it tried again, it failed."
Ichigo looked up. "Why?"
"Because your soul is... fractured. Or perhaps because something older still lingers in you."
Ichigo's heart beat faster. "Hollow."
Aizen's eyes glinted. "Perhaps."
Ichigo turned away, trying to steady himself.
"You want me to fight Yamamoto," he said. "But I've fought captains before. I barely survived."
Aizen's smile widened.
"That's why I brought a gift."
He raised his hand.
From the shadowed stone beneath the platform, a figure emerged. It was small, limping, draped in heavy robes.
It stepped forward.
Ichigo's eyes widened. "Isane?"
She looked up.
Her face was bruised, her eyes swollen with fear.
But her voice was clear.
"I have evidence. Yamamoto erased Captain Unohana."
Ichigo's blood turned to ice.
"What do you mean?"
"She didn't die in battle," Isane whispered. "She was judged. The scroll wrote her name, and no one stopped it. He watched it happen."
Ichigo stepped back.
It was too much. Too many truths.
"I'll get Renji," he said. "And then I'll find him."
Aizen stepped aside.
"Good. You have three days. After that, Renji's soul vanishes. And so does the last chance to uncover the truth."
Ichigo turned.
He didn't say goodbye.
As he vanished into the snowfall, Aizen looked up once more.
Behind him, the scroll shimmered briefly in the air, then sank into the shadows once more.