Chapter 11
KNOWN of you SINCE BIRTH, END their own FUTURE
000
Yesterday July 19th , around 8 p.m
"Hello, Urahara." Isshin's voice was rough, weary.
"Isshin-san. Sharp as ever, I see." Urahara's smile didn't reach his eyes. A practiced mask.
Isshin's gaze hardened. "Why the pleasantries? We both know this isn't a social call."
Urahara chuckled, low and strained. "Wouldn't want you blaming me for your dwindling Reiryoku, would we?"
"My Reiryoku is my problem. Always has been," Isshin growled, the words thick with unspoken burdens. Years of fighting, of loss, weighed him down. A crushing pressure.
Urahara leaned closer. "Decades. How does it feel, being a Shinigami again? Do you feel better?" Urahara pressed, a sly smile playing on his lips.
Isshin stared out the window, the city lights blurring into an indistinct glow. His shoulders slumped. "Not half-bad. Hollows are still Hollows. My failure… it's a constant reminder." The darkness in his eyes mirrored the hollowness within. The weight of his unspoken grief hung heavy in the air, a palpable thing.
Urahara's tone shifted, "Stubborn as ever, Isshin-san." Urahara chuckled, a light, almost brittle sound, "Your son… he's much like you in that respect."
Isshin snapped, "Don't say that!"
"Speaking of your son," Urahara continued, the lightness in his voice barely concealing a sharp edge. "Noticed anything interesting?"
"Yes," Isshin sighed, the weariness evident, "They've contacted Ichigo. Your prediction was right. That worries me." His voice was a low rumble, the words heavy with dread.
"Ichigo met the Visored. Dangerous lot. Ex-Shinigami with forbidden power. Troublemakers bunch." Isshin thinking, his gaze distant. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture speaking volumes about his anxieties.
"But their contact with your son..." Urahara's smile tightened. A dangerous glint.
"Yes," he continued, voice low. "They're up to something. Just like us." A slight pause, a subtle shift in his posture.
"It seems your son doesn't trust you, Isshin-san." Urahara observed, a sly grin playing on his lips.
"I'll manage it. I know my son." Isshin stated, though doubt flickered in his eyes.
"Do you really? Kurosaki Ichigo is not the same naive boy anymore. He is more composed, more lethal. I doubt he holds you in high regard either. Will you reveal his true heritage?" Urahara wondered.
Isshin sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken burdens. "He doesn't need that now. He needs to focus." His voice cracked slightly, "Urahara, Ichigo must focus on achieving Final Getsuga Tenshou, if it's comes to it. Aizen's power is beyond anything we've known." Isshin's voice was firm, but the pressure was evident.
"I doubt he will accept your words, Isshin-san." Urahara replied calmly.
"He will," Isshin insisted.
"What if he questions the Soul King?" Urahara pressed further.
"Ichigo doesn't need to know anything about the Soul King." Isshin's tone was final.
"A father can rob his son of his future. Aren't you concerned?" Urahara's words were laced with an underlying intentions.
"My son will understand. Protecting my daughters is my priorities." His voice was strained. The words felt heavy, even to him, "They need protections. He'll understand. He must be." Isshin's voice was a low rumble.
Urahara hummed, a low, almost melodic sound. "Hmm…so you plan to do nothing, Isshin-san?" His smile was unsettling.
"What are you implying?" Isshin's voice hardened. The casual friendliness had vanished. The threat was real now.
"Nothing at all~" Urahara's smirk widened. He shrugged. "I'll take my leave, Isshin-san. Good day~" He left, leaving behind only the unsettling silence and a lingering sense of dread.
000
July 20th, around 4 a.m.
Tower of Repentance, Prisoners Cell.
"Hello, Kurosaki Ichigo," Aizen greeted, his voice a low, smooth purr.
Ichigo's eyes narrowed. Suspicion coiled in his gut. "You! How do you know my name?!"
A slow smile stretched across Aizen's face. "I've been watching you, Kurosaki Ichigo. From the very start." The amusement in his eyes felt chilling.
Ichigo's anger flared, "Start? You spied on me? Since I involved in spiritual activity? Those cameras… is yours?!" He felt a surge of icy dread. The implication was far worse than simple surveillance.
Aizen chuckled, a sound that grated on Ichigo's nerves.
"Yes, those cameras were mine. But you misunderstand. I've known you far longer, Kurosaki Ichigo. Since the day you were born." His gaze burned into Ichigo, a cold intensity that spoke of something far more sinister than mere observation.
It was the gaze of a predator who understood his prey intimately.
"Wha—" Ichigo's eyes widened, shock rippling through him.
"Why didn't you fight harder? Against me? Captain Ukitake? You could have won." Aizen stated.
"I gave it my all!" Ichigo's voice cracked, his anger flared.
"Kurosaki Ichigo," Aizen countered, his tone smooth but laced with something chilling, "your Reiatsu dwarfed ours. Don't you sense that?"
Ichigo snorted, doubt etched on his face. He couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.
"It's true," Aizen pressed.
"If I'm stronger, why did I lose?" Ichigo's skepticism deepened.
A valid question. A crucial one.
"Your inexperience hampered you. You were distracted. You reacted, not acted. You lacked the burning hatred needed to win. You didn't see us as enemies. A hawk without wings, Ichigo, can not fly." Aizen's voice dropped, a chilling whisper filling the silence. The weight of his words settled heavily. It was a harsh truth, but Ichigo felt it resonate deep within his soul.
"I don't even know your name. Why should I listen to you?" Ichigo asked. His voice was sharp, edged with suspicion.
"Aizen Sousuke," the other man replied, his tone smooth as polished stone. "And you, Kurosaki Ichigo, what do you know of the Soul Society's 'balance'?" A slight, almost imperceptible, smile played on his lips.
"It's a sham," Ichigo snorted. "A lie."
"A sham? Interesting. Explain." Aizen's curiosity was genuine, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"The Soul Society's 'balance' is a fake. It's a coin with two unequal sides. Think of it like a rigged game. The Soul King built it, needing constant upkeep with Reishi－stolen life force. They drain soul's Reishi. Shinigami monopolies the resources. Everyone else got leftovers." Ichigo's words were like blows, each one precise and impactful. He paused, his eyes narrowed. "It's a scam."
"Intriguing," Aizen murmured, his gaze unwavering.
"You see their truth, Kurosaki Ichigo. You see the cracks in their facade."
"I'm curious about your drive. You train relentlessly. What fuels this quest for strength? Is it your mother's death?"
"I've accepted her death, Aizen." A curt response. Final.
"I see... you've made peace." The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.
"Yes, in a way... I admire someone. He's my role model. The reason I want strength." A flicker of something－defiance? – in his eyes.
"Admiration... hardly understanding. Your father, Shiba Isshin, seems an odd choice. Do you know what he does?" Aizen's voice was smooth, but sharp.
"My father… isn't my role model." He corrected Aizen. As if I admire him, Ichigo scoffed.
"Is it Ishida Ryuuken then?" Aizen pressed, his eyes narrowed.
"No." The answer was sharp. Immediate.
"Urahara Kisuke?" Aizen's voice held a hint of a challenge.
"Him? Urahara is suspicious. Why would I admire him?" Ichigo scoffed. The sheer absurdity of the suggestion make him feel insulted.
"You don't work for Urahara Kisuke?" Aizen's tone shifted. It was less a question, more a confirmation.
"Obviously not." The answer was flat. Definite. The unspoken hung between them－a heavy, suffocating silence.
"Forgive my misunderstanding. So, you knew your father was a Shinigami?"
"A red ribbon. My father's spirit ribbon colour."
"Ah… that explains it. But who then is your role model?" Aizen's question hung heavy.
Silence. Ichigo deflected.
"Those people…the Reiatsu around them. Your Zanpakuto?" Ichigo asked, changing the subject.
"My Shikai, Kanzen Saimin. I manipulate the five senses. I control what others feel." Aizen's voice was smooth, chilling.
"Like hypnosis," Ichigo stated, the danger palpable. A simple statement, yet laden with dread.
"Precisely," Aizen agreed. His gaze held a chilling certainty. "I have no wish to kill you. You've made things simpler for me."
Ichigo's brow furrowed. "Simpler? Why not kill me? Isn't killing a vulnerable enemy the smart move?"
Aizen paused. His eyes glinted. "You fascinated me," Aizen continued, "You're special, Kurosaki Ichigo." Aizen's words hung in the air, thick and heavy with unspoken meaning.
"I—huh—" Ichigo stammered, thrown.
"Don't be surprised. Your perfect for my research. I'll help you develop, Ichigo."
Assist? Help? This felt wrong. So very wrong.
"Assist?" Ichigo repeated, confusion warring with a rising sense of dread.
"Yes." Aizen's smile didn't reach his eyes. It was a predator's smile.
Ichigo's mind raced. Was he being trained? A pawn? "Why make me stronger? To become your ultimate foe? To bring you down?"
Aizen's curious tone sent a shiver down Ichigo's spine. "Why indeed…?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken menace. His amusement was a cold, hard thing.
"I'm getting you out of here, Ichigo. Just one day. I'll bail you out." Aizen's voice was low, a promise laced with threat. "Staying here? You'll rot. You have no other choice but to accept my offer. Not if you want to protect your family." Aizen's words hung heavy. The implication was clear.
His family's safety. Aizen's actions. The chilling weight of it all. The thought was a burning brand. What did Aizen do? He needed out, now.
"If you're rescuing me, why capture me in the first place?" Ichigo's skepticism was sharp.
Aizen smiled, a chilling expression. "To show you Shinigami strength. You lack understanding. This… is your lesson. Under my supervision, of course." His eyes held a cold gleam.
The implication hung heavy: Aizen's supervision wouldn't be gentle. Escape was the only option, but at what cost?
"Aizen… Did you hate the Soul King?" Ichigo's question hung in the air, a desperate attempt at distraction. He watched Aizen closely.
"That abomination! The most insulting existence!" Aizen spat the words, venom lacing his tone. His eyes, like chips of ice, narrowed. His gaze burned.
"Oh… You're kinda like my role model," Ichigo blurted. Panic choked him. He clamped his mouth shut.
Aizen paused. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. A cold dread seeped into Ichigo's bones. Aizen's stare was intense; it felt like a physical weight. Then, slowly, Aizen spoke. His voice was a low, measured rumble, "Fascinating…your role model hates the Soul King? Just like me? Most curious…"
Ichigo swallowed, his throat dry. He needed to buy time, to stall. Anything. "I won't tell you about him, Aizen…"
Aizen's expression remained unchanged. A slight, almost imperceptible nod. The subtle movement was chilling, "Is that so? Very well, then… I guess it's time for me to leave. Pleasant conversation, Kurosaki Ichigo." He turned, his back stiff. His departure left a vacuum.
The silence was heavier now. The unspoken hung between them, heavy with unanswered questions.
Aizen walked away, but his mind remained. Ichigo's words resonated deeply Inside his thought.
This was significant.
He needed to consider this new information. It could change everything.
000
July 20th, 7 a.m
Captain's Assembly Hall
The heavy oak doors swung open. A chilling silence fell. Captain Commander Yamamoto entered. His presence filled the hall. His footsteps, heavy and deliberate, were a prelude to the tension that coiled in the air.
The heat from his Reiatsu—a palpable threat—hung heavy. His Reiatsu, a tangible force, pressed down on the assembled Captains and Lieutenants. They stood rigid, thirteen squads in perfect formation. The air crackled.
A single, sharp tap of Yamamoto's cane struck the floor. Order. With a firm tap of his cane against the floor, Yamamoto commanded silence. Their hushed whispers ceased. A tense silence settled
The Captains turned their attention to him. They all bowed slightly to acknowledge Captain Commander Yamamoto, ready for his address.
Then a late arrival, Captain Kurotsuchi Mayuri of the 12th Squad entered, a spark of excitement evident on his face. A flash of manic energy. He bowed, a quick, almost disrespectful gesture.
Yamamoto's voice, a low growl, cut through the anticipation, "Lieutenant Sasakibe," he commanded. "The report." The weight of his words hung heavy. The meeting began.
"Recently, we discovered several Hollows exhibiting high-level Reiatsu," Lieutenant Sasakibe reported, his tone steady. "However, they were swiftly eliminated by a single young Quincy." He paused, ensuring his words were clear.
"Several Hollows, Lieutenant? High-level Reiatsu?" Captain-Commander Yamamoto's voice was low, a rumble.
"Yes, Captain-Commander. Eliminated quickly. By a single Quincy." Sasakibe's report was clipped, efficient. "A young one."
"A Quincy? How?" Yamamoto pressed, his gaze sharp.
"Captain Kurotsuchi initiated preparations to open the Senkaimon to the Living World. As Sector 3600 falls under Squad 13's jurisdiction, Captain Ukitake joined by Captain Aizen, they responded and led the deployment." Sasakibe explained.
"And?" Yamamoto asked.
Sasakibe continued, "Upon their arrival, unexpected events unfolded. An unexpected attack. An ambush targeted the newly opened Senkaimon," Sasakibe stated, "The young Quincy attacked the Senkaimon. A brutal assault. Leading to the demise of many Shinigami who accompanied them. A few are in critical condition, currently under Captain Unohana's care." Sasakibe finished his report.
"Captain Aizen, Captain Ukitake, did you fought the Quincy boy?" Yamamoto demands their answer.
"Yes, Captain-Commander. The Quincy fought fiercely. We only subdued him with combined Kido." Ukitake paused. The tension was thick.
"Subdued. Not killed. Why?" Yamamoto's tone hardened.
"We subdued the boy to interrogate him. There's a possibility of Quincy's insurgents. Especially with the boy formidable strength." Aizen offered.
Yamamoto nodded, slowly. "Capture was the correct action. The Quincy remains alive for interrogation." He paused. "Inform me of any further developments." His tone was final, the silent warning that followed was heavy.
"Yes, Captain Commander." Aizen and Ukitake replied simultaneously.
"Captain Aizen. Captain Ukitake. Your efforts deserve recognition," the Captain Commander acknowledged, his voice firm yet respectful. "You have successfully secure a potential risk."
"Thank you, Captain Commander," Aizen replied.
"We appreciate your recognition, Captain Commander," Ukitake added, humility evident in his tone.
"Where is the Quincy boy now?" Hitsugaya asked, curious about the boy whereabouts.
"Currently, he's being judged by Central 46." Yamamoto answered.