"So… you really think Unohana Retsu is onto you?"
Three days later, in Seireitei's Hanamachi district, the Thousand-Yen Ramen Bar.
Aizen set his chopsticks down gently after finishing his bowl. His voice was soft, quiet.
"Yeah," Shuuichi replied, wiping the oil from his lips with a napkin. "That's why I didn't put up much of a fight during the Kaidō duel. If I'd gone all-out, Yamada Kiyonosuke might not have beaten me. But staying on as vice-captain just wasn't worth the risk."
"You made the right call," Aizen said, adjusting his glasses. "Beneath that gentle surface, Unohana is a beast. Working under her, caution is wise."
"But I've been demoted to 3rd Seat," Shuuichi said with a worried look. "Technically I can still perform treatment, but most Shinigami are going to prefer Kiyonosuke now."
"You don't need to worry about that," Aizen smiled, calm and serene. "Even if that hadn't happened, I was going to pull you off the field soon anyway."
"…Wait. The research made progress?!"
Shuuichi leaned forward, breath short, voice hushed. Acting the part of an excited subordinate.
"Quite the opposite," Aizen said smoothly. "That line of research hit a dead end. But recently, Szayelaporro found something new by studying certain individuals in the Human World. A new path. Fascinating, isn't it? If one road closes, we try another."
Shuuichi watched Aizen's confident expression and saw through it instantly. This wasn't some last-minute revelation—Aizen had clearly been working on it behind the scenes for a while.
If not for the Kiyonosuke incident, Shuuichi doubted Aizen would've mentioned anything at all.
"Is there anything I can help with, Aizen-sama? Now that I've stepped back, I've got more free time."
He asked, feigning eagerness. In truth, he wanted no part of it—but appearances had to be kept.
Thankfully, Aizen had no such plans for him.
"Not at the moment. What I need isn't something your current position can access. The ideal assets would be someone from the Tenth or Ninth Divisions. Once 'Kaname' graduates the Academy, we'll begin."
"…Tōsen Kaname," Shuuichi echoed.
And with that, he knew exactly what Aizen's new path was.
The Hōgyoku.
To craft it, Aizen needed souls with Shinigami potential—a resource that someone in the Fourth Division simply couldn't gather without scrutiny. But the Tenth Division, responsible for Rukongai patrols? Or the Ninth, which handled crimes and cover-ups?
Perfect.
If it were up to Shuuichi, he'd pick the Ninth. Easier to hide bodies there.
That was probably why, in the original plot, Tōsen joined the Ninth Division after graduation.
After lingering a while longer, they both left the ramen shop one after the other, keeping their relationship discreet. Publicly, they were barely acquaintances.
And then… two peaceful years passed.
In the first year, Shuuichi stayed constantly on edge. He kept expecting Unohana to storm in with a secret audit.
But nothing happened.
She remained her usual warm, serene self. She even pulled him aside once and apologized over the Kiyonosuke ordeal.
By year two, Shuuichi was lost.
It was as if Aizen had forgotten he existed. Maybe once or twice he summoned him—but only to spout vague promises about the "future."
No missions. No directives. Just silence.
He felt like a normal Shinigami. And it terrified him.
Because if the surface was that still… something huge had to be churning below.
Even the Hollows in Hueco Mundo had quieted. Aizen kept the Menos locked down. Sometimes, he'd allow one or two to cross over—just enough to give the Gotei 13 something to fight.
It was too clean.
Too controlled.
Which meant only one thing—Aizen was cooking something big.
But the problem was… this wasn't in Shuuichi's memory. This whole stretch—these two empty years—didn't exist in the original timeline.
Which only made the unease worse.
"What is he planning?"
Shuuichi lay on his back, sprawled on the wide bed in his Fourth Division quarters, staring at the ceiling. The calm was deafening.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Shuuichi! Open up!"
He opened the door to find a clean-cut man with short black hair, parted at a perfect three-seven split. Dressed in his Shihakushō, exuding a fresh-faced energy—Gin Ginjirou, currently the 14th Seat of the Sixth Division. His dream? Opening an eyeglasses shop in Seireitei.
"What's up, Ginjiro?"
They'd met not long after Shuuichi stepped down. He'd gone to Rukongai to buy glasses for Aizen—just a petty gift to curry favor—and stumbled into Ginjiro, who happened to be hanging out at the same optician's. The guy knew everything about glasses.
One thing led to another, and they became friends.
"The Noble Hunting Festival! It's happening again! Four years, man—it's finally back! They set up registration at the Cherry Blossom Plaza. You haven't signed up yet, have you?!"
Ginjiro was practically bouncing.
"…Noble Hunting Festival?"
Shuuichi blinked. Then it hit him.
Right. That dumb pageantry those nobles imported after watching some Earth dynasty throw a similar event…
Officially a hunting event. In truth? A glorified matchmaking carnival. A stage for male nobles to show off for eligible noblewomen.
Thirteen Court Guard Divisions weren't invited to hunt—they were there as security. But for many commoner male Shinigami, it was the closest they'd ever get to a noblewoman.
What if she notices me?
That kind of thought ran rampant among them.
Shuuichi had never cared.
He had zero interest in those inbred noble ladies. His aesthetic sense had been shaped by modern Earth, after all. He'd rather wait for Soul Society to modernize further—or just sneak off to the World of the Living and chase some "deep, passionate romance" there.
So when Ginjiro brought it up, he'd genuinely forgotten the festival existed.
But now…
Now his instincts screamed.
"Aizen… did you spend two years waiting for this?"