“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.
She wanted to say the guy was an idiot.
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. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
“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.
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.”