The prison door closed behind him.
From within Rukia’s cell, a frantic voice spilled into the corridor.
“Renji, nothing will happen!
Captain Kuchiki will definitely mediate!
Don’t give up…”
Rukia’s reply was preternaturally calm.
“Huh?
Is there still a visitor?
Isn’t the time up yet?”
Ichiryu turned to the Ninth Division guard on duty.
“Is it?”
“Y-yes!
I’ll urge Vice Captain Abarai to come out immediately!”
“Kuchiki Rukia is a first-class felon.” Ichiryu’s tone flattened.
“Improper enforcement of guard protocols would be a betrayal of your captain’s trust.”
The voice outside silenced Renji’s protests.
He stiffened, then pulled himself together.
Rukia cut in, sharp now.
“Renji.
The vice-captain of the Shihōin clan is here to conduct an interrogation.
This is routine.
The time has come up.
Go back.
Now.”
Renji’s expression remained terrifying, but he moved.
He walked out of the cell and stopped as he passed Ichiryu, eyes red-rimmed.
“If anything happens to Rukia,” he growled, low and thick, “I will never let you go.”
He took a step down the hall.
“Hey.”
Renji stopped.
“You should go say that to Central 46,” Ichiryu said, matter-of-fact.
“Complain to the Ōin Council.
Ah.
You don’t dare, right?”
A vein twitched on Renji’s forehead.
Ichiryu walked past him into the solitary cell.
When Renji spun around, a Ninth Division guard stepped into his path.
“Vice Captain Abarai, please don’t make this difficult.”
The corridor fell silent.
Inside the cell, iron bars separated the prisoner from the visitor’s space.
The area was clean—for a prison.
A Kuchiki, even an adopted one, received certain considerations.
Rukia sat on an uncomfortable-looking chair, a reiatsu-suppressing device fastened around her neck.
For the ‘interrogation,’ Ichiryu had requested a table and chair.
He settled into the seat outside the bars.
“Kuchiki Rukia.
We’ve met before.”
“Yes, Vice-Captain Shihōin.” As a member of the Thirteenth Division, Rukia knew who he was.
Or she thought she did.
“Good.
Tell me the situation.”
“I have made everything clear to the six judges.”
She meant the six judges of Central 46.
The body held forty noble sages and six presiding judges — forty-six members in total.
“Oh?
And those people are asking very thorough questions now, are they?” Ichiryu chuckled.
“Captain Kuchiki, you’re putting me in an awkward position.
It seems something may have truly gone wrong in the living world.
I may have to apply for permission to go investigate in person.”
Rukia’s anxiety spiked.
She could set conditions for her brother and her childhood friend.
She could rely on the luck that Central 46 hadn’t questioned her carefully, that they’d rushed to judgment.
But she couldn’t make demands of Shihōin Ichiryu.
His reputation was notorious by the time she entered the Shinō Academy, and he’d only built on it since.
In her panic, she missed the specific wording — ‘those people are asking very thorough questions now’ — which implied he knew the situation in Central 46 at present was not normal.
She wasn’t surprised he could predict their attitude.
Everyone knew he was Central 46’s most loyal servant.
Under his influence, the Shihōin clan had begun to compete for seats within Central 46, recovering lost standing.
Even the Senzaikyū, the secluded tower complex where Central 46 resided—normally off-limits to any Gotei 13 squad—now had Ichiryu’s Inspection Corps assisting in its guard detail.
“I was injured,” Rukia began, the rehearsed story tumbling out.
“I was cowardly, afraid of death.
So I temporarily lent my Shinigami powers to a human.
Ichiryu didn’t challenge her.
He simply interrupted.
“What kind of person was it?”
“Huh?
Just… an ordinary human.” She hadn’t expected that.
The last thing she wanted was for Ichigo to attract his attention.
“It’s very difficult for me to work like this.” Ichiryu put his elbows on the table, leaning forward with his hands clasped.
His glasses caught the dim light, casting a reflective sheen.
Rukia swallowed.
“Captain Kuchiki… has already… retrieved the power.”
Ichiryu sensed a distinct, approaching reiatsu and glanced toward the door.
“A pity I don’t know the specifics.” He stood as he spoke, his next words almost a mumble.
“Still, he seems to be the kind of man who could make a girl risk her life to keep his secret.”
Rukia stared.
She’d missed the second half, but it hadn’t sounded like an accusation.
More like a sigh about growing up.
Logically, she should only feel fear.
But now…
Perhaps it was some emotion he’d let slip.
In any case, she suddenly felt a fraction less wary.
A conversation sounded from the corridor.
“Captain Tōsen!”
“Is he in there?”
“Yes, sir…”
The long-haired, blindfolded captain entered.
Though his eyes were covered, his demeanor was severe.
“Shihōin Ichiryu.
What is your purpose here?”
“Interrogation.”
“Central 46 issued no such order.”
Ichiryu shrugged.
“I already possess the authority to monitor the Thirteenth Division.
This falls under my duties.”
“Kuchiki Rukia is a first-class felon.
No one may interrogate her without a warrant from Central 46!”
Ichiryu raised his hands in a placating gesture, his tone turning deliberately flippant.
“Okay, okay, I understand.
No need to be so fierce, Captain Tōsen.”