Southwest Seireitei

[Adonai]

Upon receiving orders from her Captain Kuwashii nodded and promptly left the spot where she was standing, not bothering to clue herself in on what they were talking about. A star cannot be bothered by every passing comet or meteorite. Kuwashii began rounding up the Shinigami of the division, using her Shunpo to its fullest extent, telling everyone to gather at the Senkaimon. She is smart enough to not rush across the entire Division since some would have to standby in case reinforcements were needed. Once everyone had gathered she positioned herself in front of the group ready to address them.

”Okay! Our Captain has moved on ahead of us to confront the threat! We’ll be on clean up duty! We’ll be slaying Hollows, rescuing the humans still alive, and helping those who have died pass on to Soul Society! Captain said to stay-”

”Woah, woah, woah, settle down there Kuwashii. You’re just the guardian of the damn city, stop acting like you’re running the show just cause the Captain and Lieutenant aren’t around.”

The crowd began to laugh at her, walking by and patting her head, calling her a pip-squeak. Granted, the Division already knew what to do, they didn’t need Kuwashii to tell them anything, but she felt obligated to do so anyway. Of course this frustrated her to no end, she clenched her hands into fists, clenching them so tightly her hands trembled. She gritted her teeth as the heat around her began to rise, steam rising from her face as she turned to look at the Senkaimon, she would be the last one to walk through it, it seems. The steam rising from her face were her own tears of frustration. Her confidence boost didn’t seem to matter because everyone still ignored her and treated her like a rookie. Her brow furrowed into an intense frown as she stared a hole through the Senkaimon, figuratively.

She thought back to Oyuki, Kisho, and Kazuki, the presence of their Reiatsu made people stop and take notice. For whatever reason, no one stops to take notice of her despite the heat of her flames. She takes a step forward and remembers what Kisho did, how everyone took notice of him and his actions. She stopped mid stride, realizing where her train of thought just went and it horrified her. Was she so frustrated that for a brief moment she was willing to hurt someone to make everyone get her attention? No, she can’t think that way, it's not responsible, it's not right. She takes another step and hears the teasing and laughing from her fellow Division members in her mind, her memory. Not just today but any day she arrives from Naruki to deliver her reports. The laughter was never this loud before, did she just block it out or was she just ignorant to it all? So driven by her given tasks that she never stopped to listen to what others were saying about her until now.

Frustration turned into anger at this point, how long had this been going on without her noticing? Only recently or has it been happening since she joined the Division? In the human world she is the center of attention, no one mocks her or makes fun of her. No one fears or is submissive to her; they are just her friends, equals. So why can’t the rest of the Division see her this way as well? Little Blue, Little Wick, little, little, little…

”Whatever…”

She states coldly to no one in particular, not that there is anyone left around her to hear her statement. Even if there were people around, they wouldn’t have paid attention anyway. She walks through the Senkaimon, without joy, excitement, or promise reflecting in her eyes.

To Naruki City​

 

[Nobody]

The fuss and alarms raised seemed to no garner any attention from the Date. He simply stood there, eyes fixed on the woman. The mutt's voice of protest prior to the alarms, are lost to the Date, his gaze unwavering.
​

“This bit is important, do not come near me voluntarily while I’m fighting. Unless it is absolutely critical, I can’t have you getting caught up in whatever happens around me. Enter the city from the north, rendezvous with other squad members and remember. Rescue, protect and contain. Let’s move out”.​

As the Captain of the Tenth had begun relaying orders, reiterating what he expected, for the first time Kishō's gaze breaks from the woman he had come to see and glances towards the masked man. He doesn't say anything, nor does his expression truly change. What he was thinking, what he was feeling...if the man could even feel, were unknown.
​

“I trust you two to behave”.​

As Captain Izanagi passes him his gaze returns towards his reason for even being there. He says nothing in response to the Captain's words and returns to waiting. Silence falls not only in the room with everyone gone to deal with the threat, but within the barracks as a whole. With no other person present, no further distractions, Shizukana is forced to finally deal with her accuser.
​

“ Zzzzz….you look like a rooster…zzzZzz.”​

"...."
His expression still does not shift, no signs of being perturbed at her response that wasn't an answer to his question. He watched her, waiting for the ditzy narcoleptic to regain her wits. With what had just happened outside previously, it was perhaps surprising to see such a level of patience from the Date. Like his shikai, Kishō while a walking volcano is a dormant one. Kazuki had stirred the volcano to awake and finally partially erupt, only for it to quickly cool and return dormant once again. He waited, expecting her to wake up any moment now. ​

“ ZZzz…! I mean- Youuuu could be right! Bit odd that no one mentioned this to me when I woke however, I did leave in quite the rush….Zz..zzz”​

"You expect from the barely competent." ​

“ZzzZZZ… I know! I shall go to the fourth division right now and request that they perform the necessary tests and should it help to assuage your concerns I shall even go to the twelfth division to have more extensive tests done….Zz—zzz… So you can stop croaking like a grumpy frog - So you can put your affairs in order!”​

"Yes, you will be going to both. To ensure there are no further lapses, it goes without saying I'll be there. Come."

Answering the very question she intended to ask before she even voiced it he begins moving towards the door, expecting her to be following behind him. He heads down the steps and down the hall, crossing the now empty court yard as he heads towards the gates of Tenth. Passing the gate the image of the purple cat his lost to him, prepping to turn and head in the direction of the Fourth Division.

 

[Adonai]

---

Ten Days Later

---

​

 

[Inkmasterru]

---

As the arrancars wrecked havoc and chaos on the humans, as shinigami perished in the line of duty. Their lieutenant laid unconscious, a useless cadaver as his subordinates died and put their lifes at risk. Stuck in the void tormented by the white wolf and consoled by the one he held a life debt to. A phantom from his past awakened within himself from the only fragment of his soul. Imprinted onto his zanpakuto, the sole proof that Shin'ichi is still around watching over him. Like a gathering of old friends, they spoke within the void for what seemed like eons. Time held no meaning for the reunion, only disturbed by the eventual awakening of the vessel they spoke within.

Everyone who was around Kazuki felt the shift in his reiatsu, something has changed. His presence, expression, down to his movement has changed. There was strange peace upon the young shinigami that wasn't there before and amongst it a melancholy expression that replaced his usual stoicism or cheeky demeanor. A soft smile emerging upon his lips as he slowly got out of the bed. Gaze looking upon the arm that was reattached and portions that were missing which had been restored. Only a scar remaining on the right side of his pec, lower part of the dragon tattoo obliterated. A permanent reminder of what he survived and the second wound to forever remind him of the Date's malice at those who oppose them.

One would expect for him to be scarred from the experiences, shell-shocked by the two life-threatening situations. Yet Kazuki stood completely calm like a tranquil ocean at rest. Concerned the nurses spoke hestiantly to him.

"Lieutenant Sazanami... sir are... are you ok? We managed to restore your body and reiatsu to the best of our abilities. You shouldn't be up so soon, a few more days of recovery will be recommended and..."

She froze as he turned to gaze their way. Expecting to be berated by the lieutenant, closing her eyes as he reached his hand towards her.

" Thank you..."

Surprise as nothing else was spoken and Kazuki glided past her. Putting on a new uniform and returning his zanpakuto to his side. Then he was gone, without a sound or sign, leaving with the wind before the nurses could exit their stupor. His footsteps bringing himself to the barracks inner court, brushing past the guards. His reiatsu smothered effortlessly as he walked to the hole singed in the wall. His fingers tracing the scorchmarks as his mind flashed back to that day.

Then the same hand traveled to the scar upon his body, before ending upon his lieutenant badge. A thought, before it was ripped off his arm, clasped tight in fist as a content sigh was released from his body. Slowly he walked to his captain's office and saw that he wasn't there. Taking ink and paper, he wrote a letter and placed the badge on top of it, before taking one final look at the office and vanishing without a trace.

Captain Izangai, a message from your trusted subordinate
It disheartens me to do this, but I had much time to consider my actions

time to consider the consequences of what I am do

I write to you, asking to demote me from rank of lieutenant

With recent events, it has been made clear to me that my rank has blinded both myself and others.

Being a veil for others and a chain upon myself, diminishing my merits to the seireitei and squad 10

A strange calmness has claimed me recently even as I place my badge upon your desk

If I am to be the best for not just myself, but others, I need time

time to set upon this new path I have unearthed within myself

My loyalty still is unbroken, my convictions adament and my morals unchanged

I hope one day I may prove to be deserving once more, but for now I shall perform my duties as I reclaim my position as 5th seat.

Your loyal shinigami, Sazanami Kazuki 漣 和希​

---

It's been a few days since Kazuki stepped down from his rank as lieutenant. The captain approved it with a heavy heart and the shocking news rippled through the barracks. Murmurs of surprise echoed in his subordinates, voices of concern grew along with voices of disapproval. Speculation thrown to the wind as all attempted to guess the reason for something so unexpected. Debates broke out between members of the 10th as they spoke at a distance.

"I knew it was going to happen... after a loss like that, how can one remain lieutenant? Showed up by Gekka-sama and that Date, I know I wouldn't be able to bare the shame."

"They don't count! Sazanami-sama is strong, those two are unnatural freaks of nature! Yet he still stood up to them, he is the pinnacle of duty and loyalty. That can't be the reason he stepped down! I think he feels guilt for the arrancar invasion, that must be it."

"Whatever the reason, we no longer have a lieutenant... the only options left are Omoni and... Jinnosuke. I really hope Sazanami-sama changes his mind."

"Now hold on, they aren't bad choices! They are strong and loyal and... and..."

"Strength? Sazanami and captain taught us that strength isn't the only trait that makes a good commander or leader. Don't get me wrong, I love those two, but they are lose-cannons that don't follow orders."

"Hold on, I said loyalty too! So there, another trait for ya!"

"Well... there is also Kuwashii... she is a amazing candidate! She really stepped up as the guardian of Naruki city.

"No, we should wait for Sazanami-sama's return!"

"Jinnosuke!"

"Ku-kuwashii!"

"Sazanami-sama!"

"Ughhh... guys?"

Then all froze as their eyes moved to look upon the former lieutenant and he was looking back at them with slight amusement. His eyes slightly bloodshot with bags under his eyes. Signs of poor sleep or lack of thereof. Tired eyes adorned along with a unkempt stubble above his lips and all along his chin. Yet despite his appearance, he was softly smiling and looked at peace with himself.

"Morning everyone... good to see you all so lively."

Ignoring the conversation he clearly heard, he moved out the gate without hurrying. Not using shunpo as he would have before and enjoying a walk in the streets. A tern landing on his shoulder and Kyoki appearing hugging the other.

"Kazuki you haven't been sleeping well.. please get some rest."

"Kyoki is right, you need rest. I am proud of the growth you have done, but this is a bit self-destructive."

"You two worry too much, I get enough rest. It's... fine, there is much to do."

For those days he did nothing that wasn't training or work. Hours spent training his bankai, perfecting his new Hakuda style. Hours spent on patrols and fixing the torrent of new hollows and souls in Naruki city. 4 hours of sleep a day and good meals packed on missions in his free time. At least he wasn't wasting away and ignoring his comrades, but concerns still manifested. Eventually by those who weren't of his division as news spread to all of the seireitei in it's entirety. As he walked, eventually he picked up in his step and effortlessly used shunpo to travel to the 5th division. Work is never done and now his duties brought him forth to those who watched over Hueco Mundo. There an exchange of information will occur and hopefully things will prove fruitful.​

 

[Adonai]

Thoughtful Reflection

Kuwashii was laying flat on her back on one of the rooftops of her Barracks. Ten days ago she had a sort of mental revelation, the sort of revelation everyone else had already due to them being in the Soul Society during the Civil War and the fallout from it. Being tucked away in the Human World for so long made her disconnected from the political climate of her true home. Everyone at each other's throats, everyone so eager to fight one another or bad mouth one another. Shinigami clashing with word and blade without hesitation then moving on as if nothing had happened, it was all so cold and calculated. That cold calculated mindset drip fed itself into her psyche bit by bit at first but was purged from her system that night in Naruki, since then she has just been mostly silent. The occasional “hi” or “hello” is still exchanged but she doesn’t stick around for small talk much at all.

She has officially entered the “reflection” stage, thinking about her actions and the actions of others around her, and the Seireitei as a whole. She wants to be noticed, she wants to be strong, and yet she is no closer to either one. For the moment she is nothing more than a distant star, a “little” twinkle in the sky that people occasionally see and immediately forget about. She wants to be like the sun, so bright that people must avert their gaze, so warm that people either seek shelter from her heat or approach her for comfort during times of cold. Naturally the best way to demonstrate strength, as a Shinigami, is to obtain a Bankai. Surely she would become brilliant and radiant with that, but that thought crossed her mind a long time ago. The first time she learned her Zanpakuto’s name she quickly asked about Bankai. Of course her Zanpakuto ignored her request and has ignored every attempt ever since, no matter how much she pestered it.

She closes her eyes trying to remember the last time she didn’t have to act like a brat throwing a tantrum to get someone's attention. It was a long time ago, when she was scouted to become a Shinigami due to local rumors. Third Division was quite relentless in their scouting attempts for quite some time, being in charge of the Academy and Rukongai safety it would make sense.

Quite Some Time Ago…

Kuwashii grew up in Southern Rukongai the 78th District known as Inuzuri (戌吊, Hanging Dog). She didn’t have too difficult of a life as she was taken care of by a lovely couple whom she would come to call her parents. Their home was nothing special but it was theirs and it was a home all the same. Then came the day Kuwashii spiritual powers began to develop in the form of her burning Reiatsu. It was like a sickness, it would come in waves forcing her to sit outside of her home whenever the flames began to rise from her body. This drew the attention of the locals and she was called a demon child, rocks and the like would be thrown at her whenever she was outside, letting the blaze of her Reiatsu slowly calm down on its own. Feeling like a burden on her parents she ran away from home without telling them not knowing that day would be the last time she would see them alive.

After spending three days away from home, wandering around the 78th district alone, she decided to return home, only to see it razed to the ground by bandits. A crude sign was all that was left reading “You endangered us all with your Demon child so join them in hell.” Her Reiatsu burned bright for three days straight, causing those living nearby to vacate their homes out of fear of being burned. Bandits would come along after those three days to attempt to kill her but they found any attempt at approaching her without harming themselves to be impossible. The heat that lingered on that blackened patch of land was too much for anyone to bear, except a Shinigami. She protected what was left of her home for days and eventually a Shinigami would come along to investigate after a flood of reports talking about a “Fire Demon” in the Rukongai. Learning that it was just another soul with the potential to become a Shinigami, the recruitment effort began, starting with them leaving food for her. The locals saw this as the Shinigami trying to harm them all since it gave her the strength to fan her flames more frequently.

The distrust and sorrow in her heart made it impossible for the Shinigami to recruit her or even speak to her properly without having flames erupt in their direction. So much intense heat was fanned in the area that the ground was scorched black and would never be able to bear life again.

Peaceful Offerings

This went on for a few months until an older Shinigami appeared with two lunches, one for himself and one for her. He placed the box lunch down and put two meters between himself and said lunch, sat on the ground and began to eat his own. This Shinigami was different, he didn’t have a blade on his hip like all the others. Cautiously Kuwashii approached the boxed lunch he left for her. She would open it and begin eating, starving as she was; she couldn’t exactly say no to it. The two ate in silence and when they were done, the old man bowed his head to her, a silent way of saying “thank you for sharing a meal with me” he took his and hers empty boxes and walked off. Not a single word was shared between them, only a quiet meal.

He would return later that day, for dinner, the same thing happened just the two sitting in silence and eating. A few days of this would go on until the old man asked her for her name to finally break the silence. She answered without hesitation, although in a quiet and reserved manner. He shared his name as well, telling her that it is Otokogi Aijō. She would nod and the two continued to eat. Day by day they spoke more and more, Oto telling stories about his time growing up in the Rukongai and Kuwashii telling stories about the days spent with her parents. Oto knew the girl would eventually run out of stories and would have to talk about how the home ended up burnt to the ground with her folks nowhere to be found. He learned that she remained here to guard it to keep anyone else from destroying it because it’s all she had left to remember them by. Oto made a proposition to protect it for her by stationing a Shinigami here to ensure no one would tamper with it only if she joined him at the Academy so she could learn how to control her flames.

Kuwashii was hesitant but Otokogi was not persistent, he made the offer once and said nothing more of it, still returning daily to share his meals with her. She eventually agreed to the arrangement and made Oto swear on his life to keep it safe, and he vowed on his life that he would. From there she finally entered the Shin'ō Academy and became a proper Shinigami…

Back to the Present

Time For Change

Kuwashii had visited her old home during these past ten days and even after death Oto kept his word. Though the ground is not as blackened and scorched as it once was, the remains of the home remained the same just as she had left it and there was a lone Shinigami there to guard it. He was reading a book when she arrived but sensed her approach before she was physically in front of him. They exchanged a silent nod to each other as she walked around the ruins of her old home sitting in one section that used to be her room. The visit wasn’t long as she returned to her barracks shortly after. Thinking back to all this, the day she met Otokogi was the last time someone cared enough to pay attention to her and not just see her as another fire demon or in these days a little -inset adjective here-.

She sits up finally, sighing and getting sick of moping around to herself. She has to make a change and she’ll start today, with a new goal that goes beyond just being strong. She wants to be a Captain. Of what Division exactly she doesn’t know but that's what she wants and if that is her goal she’ll have to double down on her training. Not just physical training but mental training as well. One would think she would think of her Captain first when considering a mentor but she wants to think outside the box a little bit, someone who has a similar presence to her. That someone being the Lieutenant of Fifth Division Oyuki Gekka. Just like she can create heat around herself, he creates a frigid coldness around himself. He has commanding presence, he speaks and moves with great import, something that she lacks. It could be due to his rank as Lieutenant but something tells her that he would move with the same level of conviction even if he was unseated. She wants to learn how to obtain that mentality, she must!

She stands up on the roof, ready to head to the Fifth Division barracks in hopes of finding him there but hears some Shinigami below shouting at her. Something about sweeping duty near the Senkaimon, she narrows her eyes and vanishes from their sight. She isn’t going to tolerate the “little kid” treatment anymore.

---

To Northeast Seireitei: 5th Division​

 

[Itami]

The sun hung high over the Seireitei, its golden light pouring over the pristine white walls and traditional wooden structures of the Tenth Division barracks. A crisp breeze stirred the banners overhead, fluttering the insignia of the division with every passing gust. The air was fresh, carrying the distant sound of training exercises from other divisions, the occasional laughter of unseated Shinigami on break, and the rustle of cherry blossom trees that lined the walkways. It was a day that, to anyone else, might have seemed peaceful.

But for Jinnosuke, peace was relative.

With a grunt, he swung his massive Asahi-Yūgure in a wide arc, the air splitting with a sharp whoosh as the infinitely trailing chain lashed through the motion. Another strike. Then another. And another. He had long since lost count, though he knew he had to be somewhere close to his usual three thousand. Sweat clung to his skin, but he welcomed it—it meant he was alive, still breathing, still getting stronger. His battle with Ximena played over in his head as he trained, each movement a deliberate reconstruction of the fight. The way she moved, the deceptive nature of her strikes, the overwhelming presence of her spiritual pressure.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue, stopping mid-swing and resting his massive blade against his shoulder.

He grinned to himself, but that grin faded the moment he thought about what came after the fight.

Omoni’s rage had been swift, loud, and—he rubbed the back of his head just thinking about it—painful. The memory of her fist nearly caving in his skull was still fresh. He had spent the last ten days not just recovering but paying his dues. Fixing the Captain's door, cleaning the barracks, repairing training dummies that he didn't even break, and filling out paperwork like some poor desk-ridden pencil pusher.

"Che… Paperwork. Me." He scoffed. "Like ya can put a lion in a library and call it a scholar."

Still, he hadn’t complained (too much). The work gave him time to think, to strategize. He had learned a lot from that fight—about Arrancar, about himself. And one lesson stood out above all else: he needed Bankai.

As Jinnosuke swung his massive Shikai in a steady, rhythmic cadence, the sharp whistle of cleaved air filling the courtyard, his keen eyes caught a familiar figure moving toward the Senkaimon. Kazuki. The former Lieutenant was measured, purposeful, but there was an unmistakable weight in his step—like a man still finding his footing after stepping down from the mantle of leadership. Jinnosuke exhaled sharply through his nose, pausing mid-swing as a thought crept into his mind. How’s he gonna bounce back from that? It wasn’t pity, just plain curiosity. Kazuki had been a powerhouse, and men like that didn’t just fade away. But Jinnosuke wasn’t the type to linger on things outside his control. With a grunt, he rolled his shoulders, tightening his grip on the massive blade before resuming his swings, the world narrowing once more to the weight in his hands and the promise of getting stronger.

His gaze flicked up.

A familiar figure had just darted away from her assigned post—Little Blue, Kuwashii. He let out a short chuckle, watching as she disappeared from view. Finally got some fire in her belly, huh? Good. She had spent too long sitting on the sidelines. Though, skipping out on her duties? That wouldn’t fly with the others. Jinno would seal the zanpakuto and start to wrap the blade back into its wrappings. Looks like he was done for the day, resting the Zanpakuto on his shoulder.

Sure enough, a few voices rose in protest, shouting after her about her sweeping duty.

Jinnosuke waved a hand lazily, cutting them off. "Ah, relax, relax! I got it."

The grumbling settled quickly—no one was about to argue with him about division chores. With a smirk, he snatched up the broom Kuwashii had abandoned and slung it over his shoulder alongside his Zanpakutō.

"Well now," he mused, strolling toward the Senkaimon with an easy gait. "Guess I’m the guardian of the gate today. Sweepin’ away dust and Hollows if they come knockin’. Ain’t that somethin’?"

The sun shone high above as he took his place, leaning on the broom for a moment before lazily starting his work. It was a far cry from the battlefield, but even this mundane task had its purpose. Every moment was a chance to reflect, to prepare.

Next time he faced an arrancar, he wouldn’t just be swinging blindly.

Next time, he’d be ready.

>>>>>Posting Order: Jinnosuke -> <<<<<

 

[Itami]

Ten Days of Silence

Day 1:
The air in Seireitei was thick with tension. Reports from the World of the Living detailed unprecedented destruction in both Karakura Town and Naruki City. The Arrancar's blitzkrieg had left scars not just on the human world but also on the pride of the Gotei 13. Yūrei, a stalwart member of the 11th Division, stood amidst his comrades, absorbing the gravity of the situation.

While many Shinigami murmured concerns and strategies, Yūrei's silence was his armor. He had always been a man of action, preferring the clash of blades over the exchange of words. Yet, beneath his stoic exterior, a storm brewed.

Day 3:
The 11th Division, known for its combat prowess, had been sidelined during the initial invasion. The responsibility of defense had fallen upon the 10th and 13th Divisions, whose lack of coordination had been glaringly exposed. Yūrei's respect for his captain, Date, was unwavering. He believed that under Date's leadership, such lapses would have been nonexistent.

As he trained rigorously in the dojo, each swing of his Zanpakutō was imbued with frustration. Not at the enemy, but at the internal politics that hindered their effectiveness. Why was Captain Date not given overarching command? Why were they, the 11th Division, not unleashed upon the invaders?

Day 5:
The weight of these thoughts became a burden. Seeking solace, Yūrei found himself drawn to Sōkyoku Hill—a place of executions, memories, and revelations. The hill, with its sheer cliffs stood as a testament to the Soul Society's history.
Standing atop the hill, the wind tousling his white hair, Yūrei gazed upon the vast expanse of Seireitei. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant calls of birds. Here, away from the clamor of the barracks and the whispers of his peers, he could think.

Day 7:
His visits to Sōkyoku Hill became routine. Each day, he would meditate, seeking clarity. It was during one of these sessions that he felt it—a subtle, almost imperceptible pulse from his Zanpakutō. Unsheathing it, he observed the blade, its edge gleaming under the sun.
There was something... different. An energy he hadn't noticed before. He attempted to commune with his Zanpakutō spirit, but was met with silence—a rarity that unsettled him.

Day 9:
As the days passed, Yūrei’s silent pilgrimage to Sōkyoku Hill continued. He found himself drawn to the execution grounds, pacing along its edges with an unspoken question lingering in his mind. The wind was different here—heavier, carrying whispers that felt more like echoes of something forgotten rather than the present.

He unsheathed his Zanpakutō, studying its edge, the way the blade caught the light. Something about it felt distant, as if it no longer fit in his hand the same way it once had. It was still his blade, still an extension of himself, but something was changing.

When he meditated, a strange unease crept into his bones. He had always known the weight of his power, the depth of his control over shadow and perception, but now it felt as if something deeper lurked beneath—something unseen. Yet, no voice called to him, no whisper from his Zanpakutō spirit. Only silence.

Day 10:
It was late into the night when Yūrei found himself once again standing at the peak of Sōkyoku Hill. The stars were cold pinpricks against the dark, and the Seireitei below was silent, its white-walled corridors bathed in moonlight. He should have returned to the barracks, but something kept his feet rooted in place.

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes, reaching out—not with words, but with instinct.

A pulse.

Faint at first, barely noticeable. Then again, a steady rhythm, as if something beneath the hill itself breathed in response to him. His grip on his Zanpakutō tightened. It wasn’t coming from the blade itself. No—this sensation was older, deeper. The air around him felt heavier, pressing against his skin like unseen hands.

For the first time in years, Yūrei felt something unfamiliar—doubt.

Not doubt in his blade, nor his own strength, but in his understanding of himself.

Why had he come here? Why did this place feel like it was watching him?

He stepped forward, feeling the pull of something just beyond his reach. He had no answers—only the sensation that, beneath the cold stone of Sōkyoku Hill, something was waiting.

Something that had been waiting for him.


Ambition & Darkness

The ten days had passed. The battles of Karakura Town and Naruki City were behind them, but the weight of their failures still lingered in the air like an unshakable stench. Yūrei, however, felt nothing but irritation at the response of the Seireitei. The blame had been scattered like broken glass, with fingers pointed at every division that had been involved in the chaos. Tenth and Thirteenth bore the brunt of the criticism, and rightfully so. Their lack of coordination, their indecisiveness—it had cost them the ability to seize control of the situation before it spiraled into disorder.

And yet, despite the clear and obvious shortcomings of their leadership, the Seireitei continued to wallow in bureaucratic wastefulness. They hesitated, debated, held endless discussions about countermeasures and strategies that should have already been in place.

Yūrei sat in the dimly lit barracks of the Eleventh Division, the candlelight flickering against his sharp features. His blade rested across his lap, its polished edge catching the glow of the flame. He had remained silent throughout the meetings, uninterested in the bickering of captains who refused to acknowledge what was painfully clear—Captain Date should receive more control and power in the Gotei 13Why should Captain Date not be given more authority? Why should power remain in the hands of those too hesitant to wield it properly?

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

Since his time on Sōkyoku Hill, something had continued to stir within him, a restless energy that gnawed at the edges of his mind. The sensation from before—the weight pressing against his skin, the unspoken call—had not faded. If anything, it had grown more persistent.

He turned his gaze toward the ceiling, exhaling slowly.

"…What are you?"

The whisper barely left his lips, but the silence of the barracks swallowed it whole. His Zanpakutō offered no answer, but Yūrei was no fool. Something within him was changing. He could feel it in the way his Reiatsu moved, in the way his blade responded to his touch.

There was only one course of action that made sense—he would seek out Captain Date. If there was anyone who could provide him with insight, it was him. Whatever was happening, whatever this transformation entailed, Captain Date would know what to do.

Posting Order: Yūrei Tsukikage →

​

 

[Adonai]

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Ten days had passed, ten long days. The Gotei Thirteen was handed an easy loss at the hands of the Arrancar, now confirmed to be Espada. During that time Taro kept to himself, the weight of this failure fell not just on the Gotei Thirteen but on his clan as well and more specifically him. He was tasked by his clan to ensure the forces of the Gotei were in fighting order, during this assessment he declared that they were not ready and warned them to change their way of doing things unless they want the worst to come to pass. It seemed like no one took his words seriously, everyone continued to galavant around as if this is a resort or retreat. He is furious, beyond belief, so much so that he has begun a silent culling of his own Division. He will wring out every ounce of weakness from his Division, he will not fail again.

The Carnage

In the largest training room of the Eleventh Division sat Taro Date, towards the back where he had hung his Haori up on the wall. It is pristine, neat and clean, a clear sign of respect for what it represents. Below it, on a display stand, sat Kurogane, his Zanpakuto. The still sheathed blade hummed with power, as all Zanpakuto do, bright candles illuminate it and the haori and this is the only source of light within the training room. Taro sat on the floor, legs crossed, facing the Haori and his Zanpakuto, the top of his Shihakusho is draped down at his waist, his palms resting on his knees as his hands and up to his elbows are drenched in blood. Spattering of blood lines his torso and face, his hair is surely stained as well but in the dimly lit room it is hard to tell considering his red hair.

Behind Taro, leading all the way up to the entrance of the training room is a floor lined with the broken bodies of those deemed too weak to serve his Division or live. Perhaps fifty or sixty Shinigami lay dead, all with their weapons drawn, some specks of lingering Reiatsu even suggest that some had used Shikai to defend themselves. The door to the training room slides open, a Shinigami kneeling and looking straight down at the floor.

”Captain Date! Lieutenant Tsukikage is making his way here. Should we divert his path?”

”No… Let him come. What of the other cog that was not accounted for?”

Taro’s voice is low, cold, and without feeling. It radiates with a tone that immediately makes the Shinigami want to run with fear. The voice lacks humanity, not as if it was drained from him but more so like it was never there to begin with. There is a slight rasp to it, the sound of someone who has not spoken a word in days. Despite all the dead Shinigami in this room, is it possible that Taro did not say a single word as he slaughtered them?

”Fifth seat Takamura Raizen?”

”Yes… That one…”

”We’ve tracked his location down to the Rukongai sir, it seems as if he is patrolling the Rukongai. Given his ties to Third Division he may-”

He stops speaking as the glint of a jagged scythe appears in front of his face, he has overstepped.

”Excuses will not be tolerated, we of the Eleventh do not patrol the Rukongai, sifting through scum and muck to defend rats from their own shit. We leave that to the Third Division, it is their job to babysit those who cannot behave.”

”Yessir, forgive me!”

Taro inhales sharply through his teeth before speaking again.

”The Cog Captain of Tenth, he visited my barracks while I was away, yes?”

”Y-yessir!”

”Hmm, from what I hear he found a group of Shinigami who were slacking off, scared them by using an imitation of my voice. That group of… Slackers, bring them here, to me…”

”Understood sir, but, if I may please interject by saying that they have put in paperwork to transfer out of the Division.”

Taro begins to stand up, tilting his head left and right, a sickening pop echoes in the training room, followed by him stretching his arms, popping his knuckles, etc. He does not answer the Shinigami until he is finished with his stretching routine.

”They will not live to see that transfer. Now, fetch them. If I repeat myself again I shall drive you into the ground…”

The man nods and quickly closes the door and uses Shunpo to gather the Shinigami in question. Taro places his hands behind his back and waits patiently, staring at the Haori intently. Is this a culling of his division or some sort of twisted ritualistic offering to what the Haori stands for? Being the man that he is he will never tell.

---

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[Itami]

As Yūrei approached the Eleventh Division barracks, the air carried a sharp tension, a thickness that pressed against his skin like the weight of an unsheathed blade. The moment he neared the entrance, a Shinigami burst through the doors in a frenzied rush, his face pale and slick with sweat. The man barely registered Yūrei’s presence before vanishing into the distance with a hurried Shunpo, his breath ragged and uneven.

Yūrei barely spared the man a glance. Panic had no place in the Eleventh. Whatever had transpired within, it was necessary. Everything had a purpose—every part of the machine had to function, and those that failed to meet the standard had no right to remain. He stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he slid the door open.

The dim glow of candlelight flickered over a room steeped in crimson. Bodies littered the floor, broken forms crumpled beneath the weight of their failure. The scent of blood was thick, metallic, hanging in the air like a silent testament to judgment passed. At the far end of the room, beneath the pristine haori mounted on the wall, Captain Date stood, his posture composed, hands folded behind his back. His Zanpakutō rested beneath the haori, humming with restrained power.

Yūrei entered with quiet precision, stepping over the bodies with neither hesitation nor curiosity. He did not speak immediately. He simply observed, taking in the slow, deliberate breath of his captain, the tension that still lingered in his stance. It was not hesitation—it was calculation. The work had been done, but the gears of the Eleventh Division had yet to settle into place.

He bowed, on his knees, and He waited.

Patience was a necessity in the presence of Captain Date. The wrong moment, the wrong words—both could shatter an opportunity before it began, but so could also wasting his time. And so Yūrei remained still, watching, waiting, until at last the silence reached its natural conclusion, and he saw his moment to speak.

"Captain Date," Yūrei finally said, his voice steady. "I have spent some time reflecting on Sōkyoku Hill. I have come to a realization."

His silver eyes, sharp as tempered steel, did not waver as he continued. "I can no longer hear my Zanpakutō spirit. I no longer understand it."

The words were not spoken with concern or desperation, but with the clarity of one who sought to understand, to refine, to adapt. He had come here for guidance, and there was no one better to provide it.

Posting Order: Yūrei Tsukikage → Taro Date

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[Deleted member 65]

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---

“Oi! YAMAZAKI!”

Her thunderous voice reached the ears of the many division officers currently tending to their chores. All of which turned fearful eyes toward Jinnosuke and hurried away pretending to have business anywhere but there.

“Since when did SHE come around here?!”
“Fuck if I know– Just GO.”

​

---

PRIOR TO

The Senkaimon doors opened much to the surprise of the guards stationed there. The agents sent to quell the unrest of the hollow scourge that remained intruding on the human world as well as aid with relief efforts hadn't been expected to return for three more days and so the early arrival was a matter of intrigue. Alarmed, the guards lifted their weapons and watched to see which of the tenth's officers would be rejoining them in the soul society.

Collectively, their eyes widened at the sight of that woman when she stepped through and onto seireitei soil. Weapons lowered and dumbfounded stares followed her as she moved along. Suddenly, as if shaken out of a trance, the guards did nothing more to confront her and remained where they were although they could not seem to take their eyes off of the rare sight before them.
Omoni Hageshi the brutal, the monstrous matron's reputation appeared to precede here although up until now she'd been someone they had agreed had died since it had been so long since anyone had seen her or even heard about her. They agreed it was best to stay out of her way and go back to minding their own respective businesses.
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PRESENT

Omoni’s feet stomped into the ground one after the other until they brought her to the tenth’s front gate as well as to its guardian. After coming to a full stop, the perpetually grouchy woman latched her hands to her hips and blew visible steam from her flaring nostrils. It had only been ten days since she’d exploded at Jinnosuke, for a woman who seemed to hold a permanent grudge against him that wasn’t long enough for her anger toward him to subside. Although, even as she glared at him and at his broom that she’d have liked to snap in half and beat him to within an edge of his life with, there was a softness present.

This was a softness that only the very few who were familiar with Omoni could have hoped to see. Hageshi was struggling, but with what?

"Put that shit down n’ c’mon. Yer' gettin’ me a drink.”

Not one to mince words, Hageshi finished telling Jinnosuke what was going to happen and turned to walk away, fully expecting him to follow her. Soul King knew what could happen if he refused, especially considering that she’d never taken the initiative to invite him to share libations and time with her before until that moment. Duties and responsibilities be damned, Omoni didn’t care about any of it if it had to do with the soul society or if it had to do with their barracks. There were crowds of other members that could have done exactly what Jinnosuke was doing, so she wasn’t worried the job wouldn’t get done either.

Besides, if someone really had a problem with them taking a well earned break then she would have been more than happy to explain her position. One way or another.

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MOVING TO THE RUKONGAI

Posting Order: Jinnosuke -> Omoni -> ???​