Seeing Ichiryu leave, Tōsen Kaname did not speak further with Rukia.
He instructed the guard detail to admit no one else, then departed.
Under normal circumstances, Rukia would have assumed Captain Tōsen was merely upholding protocol by turning away the Shihōin vice-captain.
She would have expected Ichiryu to resent him for it.
But now…
She didn’t know why.
The “protection” Captain Tōsen had just offered didn’t feel like the safeguarding of a condemned criminal.
It felt more like protecting something he didn’t want discovered.
Another thing puzzled her.
The Shihōin clan held multiple seats in Central 46.
Would Ichiryu really need a warrant?
Why had Captain Tōsen spoken with such finality?
Several days later, in Karakura Town.
Ichigo Kurosaki had completed the special training from shopkeeper Urahara.
He had regained the Shinigami powers he’d believed were taken.
He was preparing to meet his companions at the shop before departing for Soul Society.
He couldn’t explain his real reason for leaving to his mother and sisters.
He’d only told his mother he’d be away for a while, planning to slip out late at night without a proper goodbye.
The moment he stepped outside—
“Hey!” Something lightly tapped his head.
He caught it instinctively.
A pendant.
“You really are a thoughtless kid.”
Ichigo stiffened at the voice.
He looked up to see his mother, Masaki, leaning out of a second-story window.
“M-Mom… I…”
“It’s fine.” Masaki’s lips quirked.
“You’re at the age where you sneak out at night, I suppose.
Take that with you.” She nodded at the pendant in his hand.
“This feels… really cheap,” Ichigo blurted.
Was “sneaking out at night” a milestone?
“Heh.
Cheap?
I’ll have to ask your father if he lied to me, then.”
“Huh?
Dad gave this?”
“He gave it to me.
Said it wards off evil.
I was just holding onto it for you.
Remember to give it back when you return.” Masaki emphasized the last point.
“It’s not stolen, is it?
Should we turn it in for a reduced sentence?” Ichigo muttered.
“Also, it only wards off evil.
If you need to avoid anything else, you’ll have to buy your own charm.”
“I’m not— Forget it.
I’ll definitely be back before Dad gets home.” Ichigo said solemnly.
Thud.
The sturdy Masaki had already closed the window.
Ichigo stared at the dark glass.
He had absolutely no response for that.
Rewind several days.
After leaving the Ninth Division, Ichiryu went directly to the Kasumiōji family estate.
The two guards at the gate watched his approach with confusion and wariness.
“Vice-Captain Shihōin, what brings you…” one asked awkwardly.
“I have business with the head of the Kasumiōji family.
Announce me.” Ichiryu’s tone brooked no delay.
“This… Steward Kumoi…” The guard’s expression grew more troubled.
“Steward Kumoi should currently be at the Senzaikyū for meetings.
I wish to see the family head, not the steward.” Ichiryu cut him off.
He understood the guard’s dilemma perfectly.
On the surface, he played the fool.
Kumoi or no Kumoi, the residents of the Senzaikyū were no longer important in the way that mattered.
He just couldn’t say that aloud yet.
The Kasumiōji were an upper-tier noble family of the Seireitei, second only to the Four Great Noble Houses.
For generations, the family had followed a matriarchal system.
The current head, Rurichiyo Kasumiōji, was too young.
She possessed no extraordinary strength, talent, or political acumen.
She had been sidelined by her retainer, Kumoi.
Years ago, after the previous head’s passing, Kumoi had conspired with a certain someone.
Following that someone’s advice, he used his influence to restructure the Kasumiōji into a patriarchal system, positioning himself as the family’s true master from behind the scenes.
That same someone had smoothed the necessary connections.
He enabled Kumoi—a retainer from a minor noble line—to represent the Kasumiōji family as a judge in Central 46.
Consequently, Kumoi and that someone had enjoyed a mutually beneficial relationship for a long time.
In the last two years, that someone had begun frequent, direct communication with the young head, Rurichiyo.
This aroused Kumoi’s suspicion.
His dissatisfaction grew when his warnings went unheeded.
Later, when Kumoi decided to ally with the head of the Shihōin family to arrange a marriage between Rurichiyo and his second son, that someone had gotten in the way again.
Kumoi now felt the situation was under control.
Even if that someone was being cautious, it was no longer critical.
He and the Shihōin family head—the governor’s eldest son—were meeting in Central 46 to finalize the arrangement.
Once they emerged from the Senzaikyū, the marriage alliance would be announced.
Afterward, Kumoi and the Shihōin family would carve up the Kasumiōji holdings.
The Shihōin had promised to leverage their influence to elevate the Kumoi line to middle-tier nobility, securing them a seat on the Ōin Council.
As the guards stood speechless, an exceptionally ugly man in retainer’s robes approached.
His bearing carried a smug authority—one of Kumoi’s confidants, a member of his personal security detail.
“The steward has given orders.
You are not welcome here.” The man leaned close to whisper, chuckling unpleasantly.
Before leaving, Kumoi had explicitly forbidden Ichiryu’s entry.
In Kumoi’s view, Ichiryu wouldn’t dare openly defy him.
After all, he was only at the Senzaikyū for a meeting, not dead.
Moreover, even the Shihōin family head and governor were cooperating with him now.
Someone like Ichiryu was no longer relevant.
This arrogance naturally filtered down to his underlings.