Night gradually settled over Konoha.
At the Uchiha compound, inside the clan head’s residence, Uchiha Fugaku sat at the head of the table with a pleased smile as he looked toward his eldest son, who was sitting properly to his left.
“You’ve done very well, Itachi.
Finishing your first year at the Academy ranked first in the entire school’s practical combat classes makes me very proud.
At this rate, it won’t be long before you surpass me and become a worthy—”
Slurp.
The sudden sound of someone noisily eating cut him off mid-sentence.
In an instant, Fugaku, Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Itachi, and even one-year-old Uchiha Sasuke all turned toward the source.
At the far end of the long table, Riku was holding an enormous bowl in one hand and enthusiastically shoveling food into his mouth.
His eyes were fixed on an empty patch of air to his right, and every so often an inexplicable grin crept across his face.
A vein bulged on Fugaku’s forehead.
“Uchiha Riku!”
“Hm?” Riku finally looked up at his unofficial brother-in-law.
“What?”
“Have I never taught you not to make noise while eating?” Fugaku asked through clenched teeth.
“You have, but I wasn’t talking while I ate.” Riku blinked innocently.
“You…”
Fugaku found himself completely unable to answer that.
His face slowly turned red from the effort of holding back his temper.
To make matters worse, his wife calmly picked up a fish ball with her chopsticks and placed it in Riku’s bowl.
“Eat a little more,” Mikoto said with a gentle smile.
“Mm-hm.”
Riku popped the fish ball straight into his mouth, then shot Fugaku a smug look from across the table.
Bang!
Fugaku abruptly pushed himself to his feet and glared murderously at him.
Then he noticed the confused expressions on his wife and children and forcibly swallowed his anger.
“Eat,” he ground out.
“Yay!”
Little Sasuke clearly had no idea why his father looked ready to commit murder.
As far as he was concerned, dinner had finally begun, and that was all that mattered.
Riku casually dropped a piece of tempura into Sasuke’s bowl before turning his attention back to the chat window.
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: So, Eriri-chan actually accepted Kasumigaoka’s invitation to join her lesbian club?
[Doujin Artist]: Hey!
What the hell is a “lesbian club invitation” supposed to mean?!
Can you speak like a normal person for once?
[Deathwish Count]: If I had to guess, she probably accepted.
[Doujin Artist]: I did, actually.
It’s not like I have anything to lose, and I might as well see how strong those Calamity Beasts really are.
Calamity Beasts were a strange species that had first appeared in Japan during the great disaster twenty years ago.
Savage, bloodthirsty, and known to prey on humans, they had caused untold suffering across the country.
The monsters were ranked from E at the lowest to S at the highest, with each rank representing a vastly different level of danger and destructive capability.
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: You’re still thinking about revenge?
Eriri remained silent for a moment.
[Doujin Artist]: How could I not be?
Her gaze drifted toward the main room of her house, where photographs of her parents had been placed in the most prominent position.
In this world, Eriri had become an orphan at thirteen.
The creature responsible for killing her parents had been an A-rank Calamity Beast.
Hundreds of members of the Sacred Guard had been deployed against it at the time, yet even that force had failed to kill the monster.
Eriri had spent the past several years mastering the martial arts within the Nine Yin Manual not only so she could protect herself, but because she hoped that one day she would be strong enough to avenge her parents with her own hands.
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Other than you and Kasumigaoka, who else is in this little team of yours?
Any guys?
[Doujin Artist]: Why?
Don’t tell me you’re actually jealous!
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Of course I’m jealous.
[Doujin Artist]: ?
Eriri froze.
‘H-He actually came right out and said it?
Did this idiot finally figure out how he feels?’
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: No father wants his precious daughter running around outside with some blond punk.
If I ever catch one hanging around you, I’ll crush him with my bare hands!
Of course.
Eriri drew a deep breath and clenched her teeth hard enough to hurt.
[Doujin Artist]: GO DIE!
You pervert!
Scumbag!
Shut-in!
Porn addict!
Momma’s boy!
Married-woman fetishist!
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: ?
I’ll let the first few slide, but what the hell are those last two supposed to mean?
Keep slandering me and I’ll sue.
[Doujin Artist]: Oh, please.
Let’s ignore Uzumaki Kushina, whom you literally dragged into your body against her will.
Do you seriously not know why Uchiha Fugaku treats you like a mortal enemy?
Riku lowered his bowl and chopsticks, thinking for a moment.
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Is it because two years ago he asked me to take his son out and broaden his horizons, so I brought Itachi into the women’s bath?
[Deathwish Count]: …
[Doujin Artist]: …That’s ONE reason!
There’s more!
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Four years ago, I drew Uchiha Madara as a magical girl on one of Fugaku’s family scrolls.
Then he pulled it out to show off in front of several clan elders and got laughed at for days.
Was it that?
[Deathwish Count]: And he still hasn’t killed you?
Your brother-in-law sounds remarkably kind.
[Doujin Artist]: I was thinking the same thing.
I’m actually starting to feel sorry for him.
He’s tolerated all of that, and you still go after his wife.
Are you even human?
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: I haven’t gone after anyone!
Stop making shit up!
Mikoto and I have a completely innocent brother-sister relationship, and I will tolerate no slander against it!
[Doujin Artist]: What about Kushina?
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Same thing!
[Doujin Artist]: Swear on it.
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: If Big Sis Kushina and I are anything other than innocent siblings, may someone dig up my great-uncle’s grave!
[Doujin Artist]: HOLY SHIT.
Uchiha Madara would probably come back to life out of pure rage if he heard you make that oath!
[Notification: I’m Not a Hair-Gel Guy has joined the group chat.]
[Deathwish Count]: A newcomer?
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Hiss…
[Doujin Artist]: Holy shit.
Is that who I think it is?
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Probably.
I’d say there’s about a ninety percent chance.
[Deathwish Count]: Someone powerful?
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Powerful doesn’t even begin to cover it.
This guy belongs in the freak-of-nature category.
@I’m Not a Hair-Gel Guy, Aizen?
[I’m Not a Hair-Gel Guy]: Oh?
You were able to call me by name immediately?
Inside a secret research facility in Soul Society, Aizen Sōsuke adjusted his black-rimmed glasses as he studied the translucent screen before him, genuine interest appearing on his face.
A group capable of connecting beings from completely different worlds was already an extraordinary surprise.
Yet somehow, the group owner had recognized him instantly.
How?
[Notification: Doujin Artist has uploaded the memory file Bleach.]
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Damn, Eriri-chan.
Your fingers were fast this time.
[Doujin Artist]: Maybe you’re just getting slower.
Been jerking off too much lately, kid?
[Riku-sama] [Group Owner]: Yeah.
That picture of your thighs in white stockings was way too distracting.
[Doujin Artist]: FUCK OFF AND DIE!
[I’m Not a Hair-Gel Guy]: I see.
So this is how my story ends.
Reviewing an uploaded memory took almost no time at all.
The information was transmitted directly into the mind, allowing Aizen to absorb the contents in moments.
Naturally, he saw his eventual defeat and imprisonment in Muken.
His expression, however, remained remarkably calm.
Finding companions capable of truly understanding him and overthrowing the decaying order that governed Soul Society had always been two of Aizen’s deepest ambitions.
Failing to accomplish either was certainly regrettable, but he had never been the sort of man to curse fate over failure.
Even if he truly succeeded in reaching the Soul King Palace and claiming its highest seat, he suspected that enough time would eventually reduce that triumph to boredom.
If that was inevitable, then perhaps there was not such a great difference between sitting upon a throne and sitting within a prison.
There was, however, one detail Aizen found less than satisfactory.
The protagonist he had so carefully “designed” to eventually defeat him seemed to have turned out rather differently from what he had envisioned…