Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, a month had passed.
Masatsuki Aozaki and Yoruichi Shihōin had spent an unforgettable month together, pushing each other to their limits.
Their spiritual bodies and Reiatsu had been tempered like never before, and in the grand scheme of life, they had taken yet another step forward.
It turned out that proper training could indeed enhance one's strength—but excessive training could also leave one feeling spiritually empty.
Masatsuki Aozaki wasn't sure how Yoruichi was handling it, but he definitely felt a certain hollowness creeping in.
After parting ways with her in the Noble District, he moved into a lavish estate, a clear symbol of noble status.
A gift from the Tsunayashiro Clan.
When they presented it, they had subtly hinted at keeping it under wraps.
He didn't refuse. He simply accepted it without fuss.
Thankfully, they had the good sense not to send any maids his way—otherwise, Rangiku Matsumoto would've given him hell.
Or perhaps they were just worried a servant might have loose lips and say something they shouldn't.
...
In the courtyard, Rangiku Matsumoto had been practicing her Shikai for who knew how long. The sound of howling wind never ceased—it only grew louder, as if a storm was brewing.
Masatsuki Aozaki lay back, eyes closed in feigned sleep, listening to the wind outside his window.
He found it hard to believe, but the room was gradually quieting.
Had Rangiku finally cooled off?
...
A lone figure knelt on the tatami mat, silently watching Masatsuki Aozaki.
It was an unremarkable-looking middle-aged man with neatly trimmed black hair. His posture was impeccable, rigid yet effortless, dressed in a robe resembling a chiton from Greek mythology.
His presence was serene, yet his gaze—those eyes—seemed to peer into the very fabric of fate itself, impossible to meet directly.
Masatsuki Aozaki opened his eyes and froze.
The man looked familiar, yet he couldn't recall where he had seen him before.
With an almost divine gentleness, the man raised a hand, beckoning him forward with a soft, knowing smile.
The golden light of dusk streamed in from behind him, casting an elongated shadow that stretched over Masatsuki Aozaki.
Something about it made refusal impossible.
He rose from his bed—at some point, a flowing robe had appeared over his shoulders, its material unfamiliar yet weightless.
Step by step, he approached the man.
And when he finally took his hand, the man stood, never loosening his grip, leading him toward the bedside.
But what he saw next wasn't Rangiku practicing with her Zanpakutō.
Instead, before his very eyes, Soul Society unfolded in its entirety.
Then the World of the Living.
And finally, even Hueco Mundo.
Through a small, unassuming window, he could see all of the Three Realms.
...
The man let go of his hand, placing his palm lightly on the windowsill, fingers tapping rhythmically against the wood.
Masatsuki Aozaki remained at his side, puzzled, carefully studying him in the dimming glow of the setting sun.
There was nothing particularly remarkable about him.
Except for those eyes—subtly different, yet otherwise indistinguishable from any ordinary man among the countless beings of the Three Realms.
Yet his presence carried an inexplicable divinity.
Every movement radiated an air of sanctity, as if he had been born untouched by the dust of the world.
He leaned against the windowsill, gazing into the distance.
But in those eyes, those all-seeing eyes, there was something deeply human—
A trace of loneliness.
A stark contrast to his almost godlike presence.
For a brief moment, Masatsuki Aozaki felt as if he, too, carried that same divine aura.
But he knew better.
He was no deity, detached from the world.
He was nothing more than a man—a vulgar soul, hopelessly indulgent in the pleasures of life.
"So… my name is Masatsuki Aozaki."
After some thought, Masatsuki Aozaki decided that it was best to greet this kind of "person" and show some friendliness.
The sunset reflected in the man's eyes as he softly said, "My name is Yahweh."
Masatsuki Aozaki thought he was joking. That name belonged to the God of Western religions, originally written as YHWH. The ancients gave their deity such a difficult name, supposedly to prevent mortals from speaking it directly. Over time, as the name was passed down, people misunderstood its pronunciation, and it became known as Jehovah.
Suddenly, Masatsuki Aozaki thought of Yhwach.
The name Yahweh was strikingly similar to Yhwach. However, after living in this world for so many years, he understood that they were not the same. And the man standing before him didn't resemble the Yhwach he knew.
"Masatsuki, what do you think of this world?" the man asked, turning to look at him.
Masatsuki Aozaki nearly jumped in shock.
The last time someone asked him that question, it was Sōsuke Aizen—right in the middle of Seireitei's streets. "Masatsuki, what do you think of this world?"
A simple yet complex question. When Aizen asked, Masatsuki Aozaki had felt as though he was being tested. But when this man said the same words, the meaning was entirely different.
It was as if he already knew Masatsuki didn't belong to this world—as if he was asking from the perspective of an observer. And he was genuinely looking forward to the answer.
"Who the hell are you?" Masatsuki Aozaki's voice trembled slightly.
For the first time, he felt like things had completely spiraled out of his control.
"It doesn't matter. I simply sensed that your connection to this world is growing stronger, that you are accepting it. So, I took this opportunity to come see you," the man who called himself Yahweh said.
"It's an honor to meet you, noble outsider."
"Don't be ridiculous—'noble outsider'? I'm just a minor noble, nothing grand, and what outsider? I don't know what you're talking about!"
Was this Aizen? Had he trapped me in Kyōka Suigetsu? But how could he possibly know I was an "outsider"?
"I'm not some illusion created by anyone. I came to see you of my own free will."
Yahweh seemed to see right through his thoughts and glanced out the window.
The two stood by the window, like travelers on an unfamiliar road—strangers, yet willing to admire the scenery together.
"And I sincerely want to hear your answer."
"My answer…"
Looking into his earnest eyes, Masatsuki Aozaki felt that perhaps he should say what he truly thought.
"This is where I belong. I don't know about others, but to me, this world is… interesting."
"Just interesting? That's a concerning answer. But at least it's better than holding hostility toward the world."
Yahweh stroked his chin and smirked. In the blink of an eye, he transformed into an ordinary middle-aged man.
"Why would I be hostile toward the world? It hasn't done anything to me," Masatsuki Aozaki couldn't help but say.
As if he had found the answer he was looking for, the middle-aged man burst into laughter, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. "Kid, I'm starting to like you."
Masatsuki Aozaki shuddered. Without thinking, he blurted out, "I don't like men."
Yahweh froze for a second, then shook his head with a laugh. "Don't worry, neither do I."
He took a step forward—and his body passed right through the wall. Before him stretched a massive, blazing sun, rising higher and higher.
"Wait—! Is it just me, or is the sun getting closer…?" Masatsuki Aozaki was engulfed by the searing light.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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