"Lord Aizen, you don't actually want to kill Makoto, do you? Your ability shouldn't grant permanent immunity after a single exposure. If only—"
Before Tōsen could finish, the oppressive aura emanating from Aizen made him freeze. He immediately realized he had overstepped.
"Tōsen, show the most basic respect to Makoto-kun. Addressing him without formality is rude," Aizen stated calmly.
"Yes, Lord Aizen."
"And refrain from speculating about the capabilities of Kyōka Suigetsu."
Cold sweat began to bead on Tōsen's forehead. In Soul Society, recklessly guessing someone's abilities could easily be misinterpreted as harboring malicious intent.
Aizen, uninterested in further addressing Tōsen, turned his gaze toward the Zanpakutō in his hand—Kyōka Suigetsu. His eyes shone with a glint of fervent curiosity.
In truth, Aizen had attempted multiple times to re-ensnare Makoto in the complete hypnosis of Kyōka Suigetsu.
But every attempt had failed.
Through Makoto's tone, posture, and gaze during their exchanges, Aizen deduced that Makoto could indeed discern his true location and voice.
"Fascinating… Makoto-kun, have you left a part of yourself imprinted on Kyōka Suigetsu? Invisible spiritual particles, perhaps?"
Behind his rimmed glasses, Aizen's eyes sparkled with intrigue.
Now that he had confirmed this anomaly, Aizen was reluctant to sheath his blade, fearing that these elusive spiritual particles might detach and vanish.
"A precious gift, Makoto-kun~"
---
Elsewhere, after Aizen departed, Makoto stood within the Fourth Division barracks, now sealed by the Kido Corps' barrier. He knew, however, that such barriers were insufficient against someone of Aizen's caliber.
More troubling was the ominous undertone in Aizen's parting words.
'The next time...'
Makoto muttered in frustration, "Aizen, what exactly are you planning?"
Although Makoto had learned of Aizen's peculiar attitude towards him through Urozakuro, he couldn't shake his suspicions. Aizen, being ever-cautious, rarely revealed his true thoughts.
The rumors of Aizen scribbling Makoto's name in his quarters or staring at it for hours were clearly fabricated by Urozakuro to sow confusion and disarm Makoto's hostility towards Aizen.
In reality, Urozakuro had merely observed Aizen's behavior and deduced that his attitude towards Makoto was unusual but not necessarily malicious.
Still, Makoto found himself unsettled. In this latest hollowfication experiment, Aizen had placed him in a unique position.
Just then, Makoto's gaze shifted towards the courtyard of Unohana's quarters.
"Boom!"
An explosive burst of crimson spiritual pressure erupted, carrying with it the stench of blood, murderous intent, and overwhelming terror.
The sheer force shook the barrier, despite being constructed by two high-ranking Kido Corps officers and their team.
"That… That's Captain Unohana?!" Makoto exclaimed in shock, his eyes catching a glimpse of her elegant silhouette at the epicenter of the blood-red storm.
---
At the same time, in the Twelfth Division barracks, Kenpachi Zaraki suddenly paused, sensing the surge of Unohana's spiritual pressure from afar. He licked his lips instinctively, as fragments of forgotten memories stirred within him.
But before he could dwell on them, a diminutive figure lunged at him like a feral beast.
"Annoying."
With a casual swing of his blade, Zaraki sent the figure flying, the blow leaving a trail of blood in its wake as the body crashed through a wall.
Annoyed, Zaraki turned to Yachiru Kusajishi, who perched on his shoulder.
"Yachiru, is this the 'strong opponent' you sensed? Just a vice-captain brat. That captain-class spiritual pressure is just a hollow's aura propping them up."
"Aw, don't be mad, Kenny! I didn't think Hiyori Sarugaki's spiritual pressure would turn out so weird. I wouldn't have made a mistake otherwise," Yachiru pouted, looking genuinely apologetic.
"Besides, don't kill her, okay? Hiyori's one of my few friends. We even planned to start a fun club together recently!"
"Tch." Zaraki clicked his tongue but didn't argue. He turned his attention back to Hiyori, now clawing her way out of the rubble.
As Zaraki had noted, her appearance was grotesquely distorted, resembling a hollow. A hollow hole was even forming on her chest.
Despite her primal instincts, Hiyori hesitated to attack, aware of the vast disparity in power between herself and Zaraki. She crouched low, like a cornered beast, trembling under his oppressive spiritual pressure.
Yachiru, now curious, glanced around the devastated Twelfth Division barracks. "Hmm, why's it like this? Not just Hiyori—everything's wrecked. Where's the captain?"
Kenpachi shrugged, uninterested in speculation. He strode deeper into the ruins of the barracks, ignoring Hiyori entirely.
"Let's go find out."
Amidst the carnage—scattered corpses, splattered blood, severed limbs—it became clear that the Twelfth Division had suffered catastrophic losses. Only the Shinigami Research and Development Bureau's underground facilities seemed untouched.
When Kenpachi reached the remnants of the captain's office, he found Kisuke Urahara sprawled unconscious amidst the rubble.
"Oh? Still alive. Let me wake him up… whack!"
=======================
Consider joining me on P@treon For 50+ Advance Chapters:
P@treon: p@treon.com/JustaPasserby