A heavy atmosphere hung over a quiet courtyard near the Squad 5 barracks.
Momo Hinamori had clearly been waiting for some time.
She wrung her hands incessantly, eyes brimming with distress, rims reddened from holding back tears.
Before her, several figures gradually gathered.
Renji Abarai was the first to arrive, marching in with broad, hurried strides.
“Hinamori!
What the hell happened?
The rumors out there are spreading like wildfire—is Shiro-chan really…?”
Izuru Kira followed closely behind.
His expression was cautious as ever, but a shadow of worry lingered between his brows.
He gave Hinamori a silent nod and stepped quietly to the side.
Next came Shūhei Hisagi.
The Squad 9 Lieutenant possessed a calm and serious presence.
Greeting the group with a nod, he directed his gaze toward the visibly distraught Hinamori and asked in a low, steady voice:
“Hinamori, did you call us here because you received solid word on Hitsugaya?”
The arrival of the final two guests cast a slightly delicate tone over the already somber air.
Yanagawa approached with measured steps.
After receiving a brief dispatch from Hinamori via the Kidō Corps’ emergency communication channel, he had cleared his afternoon schedule without hesitation.
Right on his heels, another figure stepped through the courtyard entrance—Rukia Kuchiki.
Her appearance caught everyone slightly off guard.
Since her adoption into the noble Kuchiki Clan, she rarely crossed paths with her former academy classmates.
Rukia offered a polite bow to the group, but as her gaze met Hinamori’s fretful eyes, a flicker of genuine concern softened her features.
“I’m sorry for pulling everyone away on such short notice,” Hinamori began, her voice hoarse.
She took a deep breath, fighting to steady her nerves.
“It’s about Shiro-chan…
Tōshirō Hitsugaya, and Sōjirō Kusakabe.
The rumors out there are true.”
“Both of them manifested the call and characteristics of ‘Hyōrinmaru.’ Central 46 has already taken them away and placed them under isolation.”
Even though they had braced themselves for it, hearing direct confirmation from Hinamori—Hitsugaya’s closest childhood friend—made everyone’s hearts sink.
“This is truly unheard of,” Kira murmured quietly.
“So what’s the situation now?
What are those fossils in Central 46 saying?
What about the Captain-Commander?” Renji’s patience wore thin, the questions tumbling out in a rush.
Hinamori shook her head, the distress etched deeper into her brow.
“No official ruling has been handed down yet,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly.
“What about Captain Aizen?” Hisagi asked calmly.
“Squad 5 should have received a formal briefing on this, right?
Did the Captain share any thoughts or orders?”
As a lieutenant, Hisagi was accustomed to viewing crises through the lens of squad duties and chain of command.
At the mention of Sōsuke Aizen, Hinamori’s eyes dimmed, her fingers twisting even tighter.
“I reported it to Captain Aizen first thing this morning because I was so worried about Shiro-chan.
Captain Aizen…”
She paused, recalling the morning’s exchange.
“Captain Aizen merely gave me a gentle reassuring smile.
He told me it was a rare miracle and urged me not to worry too much, insisting that the Captain-Commander would handle everything properly.”
“He also said that Hitsugaya-kun is a promising young Soul Reaper, and that the Gotei 13 would watch over his growth.”
Yanagawa listened in silence.
*Sōsuke Aizen…
Captain of Squad 5, renowned for his gentle wisdom and the unwavering devotion of his subordinates.*
His reaction was textbook behavior for a benevolent mentor and steady captain: soothing an agitated subordinate, expressing faith in established procedures, and showing paternal concern for a promising junior.
To anyone else, it was beyond reproach.
Yet, considering Hinamori’s deep bond with Tōshirō Hitsugaya, not to mention the unprecedented, rule-shattering nature of the incident and the storm it was bound to ignite, wasn’t such a standardized reassurance just a little too indifferent?
Captain Aizen did not seem to truly care for his subordinate at all.
Yanagawa filed the subtle inconsistency away for later.
For now, Hinamori’s mental state and Hitsugaya’s predicament took priority.
“In other words, the higher-ups are still deadlocked without a verdict, while Hitsugaya and Kusakabe are under protective isolation—or rather, tight surveillance,” Yanagawa noted evenly.
“Hinamori, what is it you hope for us to do?
Or more precisely…
what do you think we can do right now?”
Hinamori looked up at Yanagawa, then scanned the faces of her former classmates, her eyes a mix of desperate hope and helpless bewilderment.
“I…
I don’t know.
I’m just terrified that Shiro-chan will be treated unfairly or swept up in danger over something so incomprehensible.”
“Captain Aizen told me to relax, but I just can’t bring myself to…
That’s why I wanted to talk to everyone.
Maybe together we could think of something, or at the very least find out more about what’s going on.”
Her vulnerability and raw worry resonated with everyone present.
Renji slammed a fist into his open palm.
“Damn it!
Are we supposed to just sit on our hands and wait?”
Izuru Kira considered this carefully before speaking.
“Directly interfering with the Shin’ō Academy or the higher-ups’ decisions is impossible.
However, we might be able to gather intel from the fringes.”
“I can see if any whispers have reached Squad 3.
Captain Gin Ichimaru…
sometimes catches wind of unusual news.”
He phrased it delicately, but Captain Gin Ichimaru’s uncanny ability to gather inside information was an open secret.
Hisagi pondered for a moment.
“Squad 9 oversees communications and intelligence collation.
If any subsequent notices or reports come through, there might be subtle clues buried in them.
I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Rukia Kuchiki, who had remained quiet slightly apart from the circle, spoke up in a clear, composed voice.
“Outsiders have no standing to interfere in the Shin’ō Academy’s internal proceedings.
However, regarding their conditions during isolation…
I might be able to ask my brother.”
She meant Byakuya Kuchiki.
“Squad 6 oversees noble-related affairs.
While this incident does not directly involve the nobility, an anomaly of this scale means my brother, as a captain, should be privy to certain details.
However…”
She sighed softly.
“Brother may not be willing to disclose anything.
And it would require finding the right moment.”
Even so, this was remarkably practical assistance.
Given her delicate standing within the Kuchiki Clan, volunteering to probe into such a sensitive matter required immense courage, proving how deeply she still cared for her former peers.
“I understand…
Thank you.
Thank you, everyone,” Hinamori said, nodding vigorously.