Kisaragi leaned against the weathered trunk of the ancient tree, the same spot where he had shared an unexpected lunch with Komamura Sajin the previous year. The afternoon sun dappled through the leaves, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow on the grassy cliff. His thoughts drifted back to the Shino Academy, a place that held both nostalgic echoes of his past and the intriguing possibility of future connections.
The students he had addressed possessed a raw, untamed energy, a fervent eagerness to learn and prove themselves. He had observed a spark in some, a quiet determination that reminded him of his own early days. And then there was Komamura. The memory of the wolf-headed youth's unveiled face, the vulnerability in his golden eyes, and the earnestness of his aspirations lingered in Kisaragi's mind.
Komamura… he mused. A steadfast soul, loyal to a fault. He knew the tragic path that lay ahead for Sajin, the betrayal by his closest friend, Tōsen Kaname. A pang of something akin to regret, an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel, resonated within him. Sajin, a character he had always admired for his unwavering loyalty and golden heart, deserved a better fate.
A silent resolve solidified within Kisaragi. Now that their paths had crossed, however briefly, perhaps the future could be nudged in a different direction. If Sajin could cultivate a strength that surpassed his original trajectory, perhaps he could weather the coming storm, perhaps the betrayal wouldn't cut so deep.
The thought brought a faint, almost imperceptible sense of satisfaction.
A year had passed since his return to the Shino Academy, marking his thirty-first year since his rebirth. The seasons had turned, the familiar cycle of Soul Society unfolding with its usual stoicism. Kisaragi's days continued in their disciplined routine: the silent efficiency of his duties in the Second Division and the Onmitsukido, the occasional missions that tested his skills, and the solitary training sessions where he pushed the boundaries of his ever-growing power.
Visits to his family in the Rukongai remained a cherished, if infrequent, respite. Ichika, now a vibrant and inquisitive six-year-old, never failed to greet him with a barrage of excited questions and demands for playtime. His interactions with his parents were quieter, filled with unspoken affection and a shared understanding of the path he had chosen.
His interactions with Byakuya, though still infrequent, had deepened into a silent understanding, a mutual respect for their shared strength and the divergent paths they walked. They would occasionally spar, their unreleased Zanpakuto clashing with precise power, each silently acknowledging the other's immense growth. Kisaragi could sense the sheer force of Byakuya's spiritual energy, a torrent barely contained, and he suspected his friend had indeed reached a level comparable to his strength during the Winter War in his previous life.
As for his own power, Kisaragi estimated his Reiryoku had reached an almost absurd level. The constant, passive output of his Six Eyes, coupled with his diligent training, had created a wellspring of spiritual energy that felt both exhilarating and… burdensome. The constant influx of information from his perpetually active eyes was becoming increasingly taxing, a subtle drain on his focus. He longed for a respite, a way to filter the overwhelming sensory input.
The idea of creating a specialized blindfold had taken root in his mind. Not one that would truly impede his vision, for his Six Eyes allowed him to perceive the world through spiritual energy, rendering physical sight secondary. Instead, he envisioned a device that could subtly dampen the constant visual input, offering a semblance of rest for his overstimulated senses.
Furthermore, the sheer magnitude of his Reiatsu and Reiryoku was becoming a concern. Maintaining precise control required constant effort, and an accidental release could have significant consequences. He found himself drawn to the concept of sealing techniques, a way to consciously suppress his power, both for practical reasons and for the subtle allure of hidden strength. The "hidden power king troupe," as his past self might have jokingly termed it, held a certain appeal.
Drawing upon his accumulated knowledge and the remnants of his engineering studies from his previous life, Kisaragi felt confident that he could design and create such devices. He estimated that with dedicated effort over the next year or two, he could invent both the specialized blindfold and effective Reiryoku-sealing mechanisms.
His thoughts then turned back to Byakuya. He had witnessed his friend's immense growth firsthand, the quiet intensity of his training bearing fruit. The idea of a similar seal for Byakuya sparked in his mind. Not out of necessity, perhaps, but more as a shared… aesthetic, a silent acknowledgment of their unique positions and burgeoning strength. He chuckled softly at the thought. It was undeniably a bit… cringe, as the slang of his past life would dictate. A matching set of mysteriously powerful individuals with consciously suppressed abilities. The image was almost comical.
Despite the inherent cringe factor, Kisaragi decided to proceed with the idea. For Byakuya, he envisioned a set of white, fingerless gloves, similar to the ones he currently favored. They would serve as a subtle, almost fashionable seal, a visual indicator of the immense power held in check. It was a small, perhaps even silly, project, but it offered a tangible goal amidst the endless cycle of duty and training. And perhaps, in its own quiet way, it was another step in solidifying the unique bond he shared with his only true friend in this new life. The coming year held the promise of invention, a personal endeavor intertwined with the subtle shifts in his relationships and the ever-present awareness of the future that lay ahead.