"Thank you for your hard work, sir~"
Just as Higashi Shuuichi stepped downstairs, he saw Nagazawa Rimi standing beside Hōrin Tessai, politely greeting him.
"Hello, Miss Nagazawa Rimi," Shuuichi said, voice calm and warm.
Rimi turned at the sound, eyes settling on a man with short black hair, handso enough, but with a gauntness in both expression and presence—he seed fragile, unwell.
This was the one Kisaragi Shūsuke had spoken of with such reverence? The one he admired beyond all others?
He didn't look like much.
Rimi couldn't understand it—but she smiled anyway, polite.
"Nice to et you. May I ask your na?"
"Higashi Shuuichi. Just call Shuuichi, sa as Shūsuke."
His tone was easygoing.
In the past, Shuuichi might have missed the subtle flickers of doubt in her expression—but not anymore.
Beside him, Kabuto Masayako stepped forward. "I'm Kabuto Sayako. You can call Sayako, sa as Shuuichi-kun."
From Shūsuke's head, Shihōin Yoruichi owed lightly—her own form of introduction.
"Nice to et you, Shuuichi-kun, Sayako-san," Rimi said with a small bow.
"I hear from Shūsuke you want to repay him for saving you?"
Shuuichi's tone was curious, his gaze steady. The girl was clearly under twenty—young, inexperienced. But there was sothing else.
It was obvious she had ulterior motives for approaching Kisaragi Shūsuke.
The question was: why?
One thing was certain—Nagazawa Rimi wasn't a Shinigami. If she were, they wouldn't be dealing with her alone—Seireitei captains would be involved.
"Yes," Rimi said earnestly. "If not for Shūsuke-kun, I would've been assaulted by those ronin. I'm truly grateful to him and wish to repay his kindness!"
She looked so sincere that her eyes shimred with tears, as if reliving the trauma.
Masayako, moved, nodded sympathetically. "I understand, Miss Rimi. I've had a similar experience."
"Eh?"
Shuuichi glanced at her, confused.
But Shūsuke, ever the blunt one, interjected with a stern voice. "Miss Rimi, I helped you purely out of goodwill. I never wanted repaynt. Let's end this today, alright?"
He wasn't interested in romance.
His only focus: to grow stronger, and soday destroy Aizen Sōsuke—the man who had twisted Shuuichi's life. And maybe even kill Ichimaru Gin, the traitor he'd once considered a friend.
"But, Shūsuke-kun, I really—"
Rimi was cut off by a sudden burst of laughter from the inner room.
"Hahaha! Shuuichi, you bastard, you're finally awake! I was starting to think you'd sleep through the whole damn war against Aizen!"
A man with a mask stepped out, marching straight toward Shuuichi.
He threw a punch—Shuuichi raised his arm to block, but he hadn't yet fully recovered from the aftermath of Kuroniku (Wounded Flesh). The force made him stumble back several steps before he managed to brace.
"Yo! Not bad. Kisuke said you'd need another day or two to be back in top form, but you're already up and moving. Want a spar?"
The masked man grinned, clearly unconcerned with formalities.
But Shuuichi shook his head, subtle in his disapproval. Now wasn't the ti.
Then he noticed sothing—
Nagazawa Rimi's expression had shifted. And not just hers—everyone's.
"Shūsuke-kun... do your family mbers always wear such scary masks around the house?" she asked, voice uneasy.
Despite her earlier poise, Rimi's innocence cracked. Her expression gave away her nerves.
She had no idea what she'd just set off.
The room fell utterly silent.
Masayako, who had been about to comfort Rimi, froze mid-step.
Tessai, until now wordlessly unloading crates, stiffened. His face darkened. Without a sound, he moved toward the door, subtly blocking Rimi's escape route.
"...You can see ?" the masked man turned, voice low.
"Should I... pretend I don't?"
Rimi's smile faltered. The tension reached her. She instinctively stepped back.
This... this wasn't so creepy house prank, was it?
She thought of old horror tales—rural villages where the inhabitants played ghost gas on outsiders.
"If you could pretend not to see him," Shuuichi said softly, "that'd actually be best."
He tilted his head slightly.
"But now? It's a bit too late for that."
Rimi's eyes widened. Panic crept into her stance.
She didn't know it, but the man who had punched Shuuichi was Muguruma Kensei, just returned from the underground training grounds. He hadn't bothered to wear one of Kisuke's Gigai.
In other words, he was still in pure spiritual form—completely invisible to normal humans.
But Rimi had seen him clearly.
That left two possibilities: either she was a Fullbringer, or she'd spent so long exposed to soone with massive Reiatsu that she'd gained spiritual awareness.
Shuuichi leaned toward the first.
At this ti, there were few beings in the Human World with high enough Reiatsu to "awaken" soone just by presence.
Anyone like that would've already attracted Seireitei's attention.
Anyone leaking Reiatsu right now would have their door kicked in by Gotei patrols investigating their "utility records."
"What do you want from ?" Rimi's voice was shaking. "I-I don't—"
She knew now that the mood had turned, and it wasn't in her favor.
But she wasn't naive.
Her hand moved subtly to the necklace around her neck.
And in that mont—before she could even react—Shuuichi vanished.
Then reappeared before her like a whisper from the void.
His palm gently pressed down on the back of her hand, halting the motion.
"If I were you," Shuuichi said quietly, "I wouldn't do whatever you're thinking of doing."
"Whatever trump card you've got... trust . This isn't the place for it."
Rimi's heart pounded.
How had he closed the distance that fast?
How did he know?
What kind of monsters had she stumbled into?
Her mind swirled with unspoken questions, but her body had already surrendered. As if under a spell, her hand fell to her side.
Good.
Shuuichi gave a small nod.
At least she wasn't a complete fool.
Then, he raised his hand.
Two words escaped his lips:
"White Veil."
A chaotic light surged in front of Rimi's eyes.
In the next instant, her consciousness vanished. She collapsed gently into Shuuichi's arms.
"I'm sorry, Shuuichi-sama... I caused trouble."
Kisaragi Shūsuke knelt, face full of guilt.
Shuuichi shook his head.
"This isn't your fault, Shūsuke. And honestly... this might not even be a problem."
He glanced down at the unconscious girl in his arms.
No—this might very well be an opportunity.
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