So…
How did it end up like this?
Seiya had always known that his involvement would gradually lead to deviations from the original storyline.
But he didn't expect… that even the person meant to be pinned to the wall would now be replaced by himself?!
Even Seiya couldn't make sense of it anymore.
—Could this be some kind of curse on the captain of the 5th Division?
If it's not Aizen being stabbed, then it's his turn. Is the fate of support division captains to become one with the walls?
Amitābha… how cruel!
"Captain Arima, have you been troubled by something lately?"
The sudden question startled Seiya, who had been yawning in the courtyard, intending to take a short nap.
It had been about three days since he and Aizen finalized the plan and began its layout and execution.
Rubbing his cheek, Seiya made a strange face.
"Why do you ask?"
Beside him, Hinamori tilted her head, still hanging laundry without pausing.
"Hmm? No particular reason, really. Just… a feeling."
After all, they'd spent quite a lot of time together.
"You may not notice it yourself, Captain, but whenever you're troubled, there's always a subtle expression on your face—hard to describe."
"…"
Is she psychic or something?
After painstakingly laying out a carefully crafted plan with Aizen, Seiya found it almost exposed with a single glance from this woman.
A major miscalculation.
If even Hinamori could sense something, how much more obvious would it be to Isane?
Clearly, deception wasn't his strong suit.
With a silent sigh, Seiya adjusted his mindset and responded in a joking tone:
"Yeah, I guess I have been a little troubled lately."
Hinamori set the clothes aside, tucked her sleeves in, and sat neatly beside him, tone serious:
"If it's something I can help with, I'd be glad to share the burden!"
…So eager, huh?
Though, that was just what he needed.
Raising both hands to gently press his temples, Seiya cautiously began:
"I'm worried that my health has suddenly taken a turn again recently."
Cough cough "Tell me, if I suddenly died at my desk one day… what would everyone think of me?"
Like she'd been triggered by a hidden switch, Hinamori's previously calm expression turned abstract.
Her body tensed, brows knotted, throat bobbing once before she blurted:
"That kind of thing! Is absolutely impossible!"
"Ahaha… it was a joke, just a joke."
"Please don't joke about your health like that!"
"I'll apologize later… for now, can you just imagine the scenario I described?"
Geez…
Is she the captain or am I?
Whether it was his softer tone or the promise to apologize, Hinamori finally stopped protesting and lowered her head, deep in thought.
"If it really did happen…"
"Everyone in the 5th Division would be devastated."
"Not having taken care of their captain properly—that's a failure of our division at its core."
It was good to see such responsibility.
But… wasn't that a bit much?
Seiya smiled wryly and shook his head.
"Death and illness are part of life. Being overly fixated on me—ah, sorry, forget it."
Please, go on.
Hinamori paused, discarded the speech she'd mentally drafted about the 5th Division, and considered a different angle.
"Those closest to you—Vice-Captain Kotetsu would be heartbroken."
"And those often seen with you, like Gin, Captain Aizen, Captain Tōsen—they'd all be affected."
"Even the more distant ones, like Captain Kurotsuchi and Captain Byakuya…"
As she listed names one by one, Seiya's expression gradually grew distant.
In a way, this was a classic case of "the bystander sees more clearly."
As the subject, it was hard for Seiya to view his own position objectively.
But hearing it from someone else…
He finally understood Aizen's intention behind it all.
In the original story, Aizen was friendly, but due to his personality, most of his relationships were superficial.
But Seiya?
Over the years, he'd built deep, trusting bonds with many.
In terms of "impact," his death would cause far greater waves than that of a polite, reserved man.
Letting out a soft sigh, Seiya shook his head with a trace of helplessness.
Since the plan was already in motion, he had no room to criticize.
At this point, the arrow was nocked—
And had to fly.
"Okay, I get it. I'd like to rest a bit now, so—"
He couldn't finish.
Hinamori stood with hands on hips, wearing a stern look, standing right in front of him.
Her lips were pursed, brow tightly furrowed, trying to project displeasure through facial control alone.
But given her height and youthful features…
…Whose child is this?
"Um, is there a problem?"
"Captain Arima, you promised—Apology! Now!"
You remembered that?!
Still, he had no choice but to follow through on what he'd said, even if he was unwilling.
"Sorry, sorry… slipped my mind."
"Hmph!"
And now you're smug about it?
Even so, Seiya didn't complain.
After all, this kind of behavior came from genuine concern.
And Seiya would never speak harshly to someone who cared about him.
"Alright, I won't joke about this again… really, not again."
His tone said it all.
Hinamori hesitated briefly, then gradually relaxed.
"Then please remember—don't bring this up again!"
Seiya didn't reply—he simply smiled.
Whether he liked it or not, there was no turning back now.
From the very beginning, Seiya had walked a path few would understand.
A journey even more perilous than Aizen's.
And now… the real trials were about to begin.
He needed to start preparing his heart.
To keep childish thoughts from affecting his resolve.
He calmed his thoughts, let his expression shift, and offered a familiar, calm smile.
"Thanks, Hinamori."
Without this conversation, he might not have realized how afraid he was to play this role.
But now, that fear was tucked away.
Being misunderstood was normal.
It was time to mature—Seiya Arima.
Meanwhile, having lost the upper hand in the conversation, Hinamori awkwardly twirled her hair and looked shy.
"Uh? It's… it's not something you need to thank me for…"
More than polite words, everyone just wanted Captain Arima to recover and live a healthy life.
It was simple. Honest.
But the most sincere wish of all.
Seiya didn't deny it, only smiled helplessly.
"Yeah, I'll try my best."
…
…
…
"Mr. Kurosaki~ Your sword isn't broken."
"It just hasn't yet revealed its true form."
"A Zanpakutō is a manifestation of a Soul Reaper's inner self."
Thus—
"Go find it. Deep within your soul."
"Beyond all the masks and facades."
"Find the power that belongs to you alone."
Urahara Kisuke's voice was teasing yet serious as he pressed forward, constantly pushing Ichigo.
Only a hilt remained in his hand—a desperate resistance.
But there was no retreat in Ichigo's eyes.
Because what the man was describing… wasn't unfamiliar.
If—
A Zanpakutō was a reflection of the soul…
Then he should have another sword, shouldn't he?
He resisted, struck back.
Though his steps were shaky, the fire in Ichigo's eyes burned brighter with every second.
Something stirred within him. A surge of pressure in his chest, an impulse on the verge of erupting.
"Interesting look, Mr. Kurosaki. Seems like you're just one step away from success."
Kisuke twisted, vanished.
In the next instant, his transformed cane—now a Zanpakutō—stabbed toward Ichigo's face from an odd angle.
A flash of crisis.
Hair standing on end. Heart racing. Breath quickening.
In that fleeting moment, Ichigo heard a sharp hum—
Time froze.
The world faded into black and white.
And within that silent space, Ichigo saw two familiar figures behind him.
To his left—
A man in a plain black robe, with flowing hair and goggles. Worn and weathered.
To his right—
A mist-shrouded figure, face hidden, only a vague outline visible.
"You two…"
Though it felt like their first meeting, Ichigo felt an undeniable familiarity.
As if he'd known them for a long, long time.
He parted his lips to speak—but they cut him off in unison.
"Don't look back." x2
The left figure drifted upward, like ink spreading across a scroll.
Darkness spilled from him.
"Retreat invites decay."
"Weakness invites death."
The right figure stood on the earth, correcting the world's blank page.
White light radiated from him.
"Courage carves a path."
"Fearlessness conquers all."
Black and white interwove.
Their voices overlapped.
"Shout my name." x2
No prompts needed.
It was already etched into his soul.
Ichigo clenched the hilt tightly, expression fierce.
"Zan… Getsu!"
BOOM!!!
Spiritual energy exploded from him.
A torrent of blue surged from Ichigo's body like a dam burst.
Shattering the frozen world.
His presence swelled, pressure surging.
The hilt in his hand bloomed with pure energy—shifting from formless to form.
Kisuke's expression twisted.
The sheer outpouring of spiritual pressure was absurd.
Even without malice, it shocked him.
'Just the overflow is this intense?!'
Everyone knew—
Spiritual pressure reflected the soul's power.
The stronger the soul, the heavier the pressure.
Kisuke had barely begun to react when—
BOOM!!!
He took a full-powered Getsuga Tenshō to the face.
But while that unfolded in reality…
Within Ichigo's inner world, two soul fragments faced each other.
Not hostile.
But clearly… complicated.
One, resembling Yhwach from a thousand years ago, embodied his Quincy power.
Even though Ichigo had called his name, nothing had changed.
His sword remained only a fragment—power leaking out uncontrollably.
To his inquiry, the mist-shrouded Seiya replied calmly:
"No need to fight. Our goals are the same, right?"
They didn't seek dominance.
They existed only to protect Ichigo Kurosaki.
"You won't give him power. I can't persuade you."
"We could fight… but it would only trouble Ichigo."
"So I chose peace. We'll have another chance—no need to rush."
The Yhwach-like figure gave a quiet chuckle.
"You think you can sway me?"
Arrogant. Dismissive.
As befitting the identity he wore.
Seiya only shrugged.
"No need to make it so serious. You'll understand eventually."
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Powerstones?
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