Outside the Four Deep Cells of the Penitence Palace, on the lonely suspension bridge, Yamada Hanatarō of the Fourth Division held a broom.
His plan had been simple: sneak into the deepest prison under the guise of cleaning to visit Kuchiki Rukia.
The guards blocked him.
The idea was absurd.
The Four Deep Cells needed cleaning?
This place existed to confine spirits.
The cells stood empty, but the ambient reiatsu was constantly leeched away.
Even the guards wore specific isolation gear before approaching a prisoner.
“What do you think this is?”
“Get out!
Out!
Or you’ll be executed on the spot!”
The two guards on duty shooed him away.
Timid by nature, Hanatarō didn’t dare argue.
He didn’t yell that his brother was the director of the Shiyakuin.
He just turned, dejected, and began to walk.
Another figure passed him, also wearing a Shinigami uniform.
Hanatarō glanced up in time to see the vice-captain armband.
He turned his head and caught only a glimpse of white hair.
The two jailers who had been shouting moments earlier snapped to attention.
“Lord Shihōin!” they saluted.
“Well, I don’t have a warrant,” the white-haired figure stated.
“That shouldn’t be a problem?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Master Shihōin is here on inspection.
You may enter at any time.”
Their deference was pure flattery.
The rules of the Penitence Palace had been rewritten in seconds.
Shihōin Ichiryu walked forward.
The two guards graciously gave way.
He paused.
“The sanitation isn’t very good.” He surveyed the bridge as if noticing grime for the first time.
“Let him clean it.”
“Yes!
You, hurry up and clean!” the jailer Shinigami urged immediately.
“Ah?
Oh… yes!” Hanatarō obeyed, bowing his head and scurrying after Vice-Captain Shihōin.
A sudden surge of spiritual pressure swept the bridge.
The Captain of the Seventh Division, Komamura Sajin, appeared on the suspension bridge.
He wore a full-face mask that looked, to the uninitiated, like an oversized wooden bucket.
He stood nearly three meters tall.
“Captain Komamura,” the two guards greeted.
Their attitude was merely correct.
Nothing like the flattery they’d shown Ichiryu.
They weren’t part of the Gotei 13.
The Penitence Palace guards were an independent department.
Their boss was Central 46.
One could understand just from the titles: one was “captain,” the other was “lord.” They respected Komamura because he was a captain.
They flattered Ichiryu because he was Shihōin Ichiryu, a great noble of Soul Society.
The Gotei 13 had the straightest backbone when facing nobles.
Other departments were more corrupt beyond imagination.
Komamura ignored the guards.
He addressed Ichiryu’s retreating back.
“Shihōin Ichiryu.
This is the Penitence Palace.
Without authorization, no one is permitted to…”
Komamura Sajin was upright and meticulous.
He did not fight for glory.
He believed the intruders were coming for the prisoner, and he had no desire to compete for merit, so he had come directly here to guard the final gate.
He did not encounter the intruders.
He saw Shihōin Ichiryu arrive first.
He had intended to wait, to act only if Ichiryu did something improper.
He discovered the guards didn’t stop him.
True to his character, Komamura was not at all pleased with Shihōin Ichiryu.
He was the Captain-Commander’s loyal dog, and had repeatedly instigated Central 46 to weaken the old man’s power.
Komamura held a strong criticism of him.
Before Komamura could finish his question, Ichiryu interrupted without looking back.
“Oh, Captain Komamura is quite right.
I don’t have a warrant, but…” The source of this chapter is g.com.
Ichiryu leaned back at an arrogant angle, looking at Komamura with difficulty over the shoulders of the two jailers.
He didn’t face him.
He just pointed a thumb back at his own head.
“I’m Shihōin Ichiryu.
And this isn’t the Seventh Division barracks.
Please maintain proper etiquette.” He laughed.”
He straightened up with a laugh and stepped forward.
Komamura moved to stop him.
The two guards crossed their hexagonal rods, blocking his path.
“Captain Komamura, please restrain yourself!”
That was correct.
Ichiryu could enter not because he was a vice-captain, but because he was a great noble.
Without the bucket, one would probably see Komamura Sajin baring his teeth.
He hesitated.
He did not take further action.
Hanatarō could feel Captain Komamura’s fury.
He didn’t dare look back.
He kept his head down and followed.
Finding that Komamura was merely fuming and had no intention of clobbering him, Ichiryu continued walking.
He muttered under his breath with bored disappointment.
“With only that level of anger, how could he ever understand what that blind man sees in nobles…?
It’s really quite disgusting, isn’t it, Captain Yamada?”
Even though Yamada Seinosuke had been promoted to the Shiyakuin a century ago, the Yamada family was not noble.
Hearing the words, Hanatarō startled.
“Huh?”
He realized his mistake and spoke hurriedly.
“Of course not!
Miss Kuchiki is a very good person.
When I was cleaning the cells, she even showed concern for me.
She wasn’t aristocratic at all… uh… I mean, Vice-Captain Shihōin is also a good person!”
Under Ichiryu’s sidelong glance, he remembered he should clarify “Vice-Captain Shihōin” first.
Then he grew uneasy.
He still held the broom, but his words had just revealed he was here to visit Miss Kuchiki.
Would Vice-Captain Shihōin arrest him for this?
Would it implicate Captain Unohana?
Come to think of it… his own captain had once kicked Vice-Captain Shihōin out of the division headquarters years ago.
Shihōin Ichiryu didn’t seem to notice.
That only made Hanatarō more suspicious.
As they approached the narrow opening to the Four Deep Prison, Ichiryu pushed him away.
“Go clean the area over there.”Chapter 24 — A Sunny and Cheerful Boy
“Yo, Miss Kuchiki.
We meet again.” Ichiryu greeted the single crack in the wall of the fourth deep prison.
Kuchiki Rukia pressed close to the opening, her voice tight.
“Yes… Vice-Captain Shihōin.
What’s happening out there?”
She’d heard the distant chaos.
No one had told her anything.
“Miss Kuchiki is quite cunning,” Ichiryu said.
“So determined not to confess earlier, all because that human really would come to Soul Society to save you.
Now he’s thrown the Seireitei into chaos.
Was this what you expected?”
“What?
Ichigo… he… how could he…” Her voice held no pleasure, only rising dread.
She knew better than anyone how impossible his rescue truly was.
Ichiryu smiled faintly at her nerves.
He adopted a mock-serious tone.
“I’ll be direct.
You still haven’t explained something important.
For instance… it’s Kuchiki Byakuya and that human working together, isn’t it?
I can’t imagine how he’d save you without inside help.
If you admit Lord Byakuya’s involvement now, I might still plead for leniency from Central 46.”
“Of course not!
Brother would never—” Rukia cut herself off.
This Shihōin was insufferable.
“Hah.
You want me to believe a human is that desperate to save you?
How long have you even known each other?
Do you think I’d buy such nonsense?” Ichiryu played the villain with practiced arrogance.
“He… I…” She faltered.
In the end, she could only insist, “I was merely adopted!
This has nothing to do with my brother… or the head of the family!”
Ichiryu watched her, as if seeing right through the defensiveness.
“Ah, yes.
I checked the Shinō Academy records.
Before your adoption, you and Vice-Captain Abarai were childhood friends.
So… it must be Renji Abarai coordinating with the intruders from the inside, then?”
“No!
Renji would never—” She couldn’t stand this man framing her friend.
Ichiryu cut her off.
“Oh?
You mean to say the human you just met is risking his life to save you, and your childhood sweetheart has nothing to do with it?”
“I…” Her initial outrage at his arrogant logic gave way to confusion.
“I have nothing more to say!
This is the Palace of Penitence.
I wish to repent.
Please leave.” Rukia shut down and turned away.
Shihōin Ichiryu kept muttering as he left.
“How could it only be the intruders wanting to save you?
What’s your real relationship with them?” and “I don’t believe this has nothing to do with Kuchiki Byakuya and Abarai Renji…” When she stayed silent, he gave up and walked away.
Exiting the Repentance Palace, Ichiryu noted the captain of the 7th Division, Komamura, was gone.
A guard said he’d departed shortly after Ichiryu entered.
Inside, Rukia felt uneasy.
It seemed like Shihōin Ichiryu had come just to… praise Ichigo, and casually disparage Byakuya and Renji?
No.
That was an illusion.
He’d been trying to trap her.
Rukia shook her head firmly.
“My specialty is only smiling.
Look at the raised corners of my mouth.
A sunny and cheerful boy.” Ichiryu hummed, seemingly satisfied.
Then his expression tightened.
He muttered, “Why is he just like his father…”
Uryū Ishida and Orihime Inoue—separated from Ichigo after he broke the soul mask—encountered their first opponent: Jirōbō Ikkanzaka, younger brother of the former White Gate guard, Jidanbō, and fourth seat of the 7th Division.
In Ichiryu’s estimation, Jidanbō’s natural talent was higher.
A shame the soul-body modification had locked his ceiling.
Both physical modification and clan artifacts existed outside the Zanpakutō system.” For a Shinigami, the path of the Zanpakutō remained the most reliable.
Yet if Jidanbō, a commoner, hadn’t undergone the procedure and secured his position, his younger brother might never have entered the Shinō Academy at all.
Jirōbō, unmodified, was merely “large.” Contrary to his size, he was despicable—utterly unlike his brother or Captain Komamura.
His Zanpakutō was a ranged-type after release.
Against most, he relied on its unique long-distance attacks and mocked them with petty gestures.
“Consider this a little whip,” he’d say.
Uryū Ishida handled him easily.
After disarming him, Uryū didn’t press the attack.
Though hostile to Shinigami, his rivalry with Ichigo had mellowed his extremism.
Here to save Rukia, he didn’t want unnecessary killing.
But then Jirōbō, despicably, attacked Orihime Inoue, who appeared weak and defenseless.
Uryū, prepared, could have easily saved Orihime with a “Flying Sickle Foot.” His eyes sharpened.
He took a slow step, sensing a threat, and halted his technique.
The “threat” he felt was now positioned in front of Inoue Orihime—and Jirōbō.
Jirōbō, about to seize the “little girl,” saw the figure that had materialized before him.
He threw himself flat on the ground to stop, his waist twisting awkwardly.
“F-Four… Vice-Captain Shihōin!
I didn’t know you were coming.
This lowly one is truly rude.” Jirōbō bowed like a mountain of meat, every ounce of fat oozing false humility.
“What a pity,” Ichiryu said, shaking his head.
Jirōbō didn’t understand.
He’d never guess: first, that Jidanbō had willingly become a “hero,” trading his body for money and training, only for his brother to turn out like this; second, that he was hardly worthy of the name “Kamaitachi.”
Ichiryu didn’t explain.
He looked past him at Ishida Uryū.
“This degree of resemblance is truly enviable,” Ichiryu murmured under his breath.
“Though not when it comes to flirting with other people’s wives.”
Free.
Right now.
Other readers are already ahead.
You’re still here.
Deadass don’t make that make sense.