A naless clearing deep within Hell.
The ancient nos that had just revived could no longer stomach the humiliation. Enraged, it charged the Shinigami that stood barely a tenth its height.
"Noisy."
With a scowl, the Shinigami threw a single punch.
Air shattered. The nos's freshly reconstituted body—strengthened by Hell's power—exploded into ruin again in a single instant.
Captain, I want to learn that move!
The mont was all wrong for that kind of reaction, but Higashi Shuuichi's eyes were glowing with awe as he watched Kuryashiki Kenpachi casually obliterate the monster.
He was one step away from dropping to his knees.
"You say you're working for the Dōma Clan, one of the Five Great Noble Houses?"
This ti, Kuryashiki didn't hold back. He let his spiritual pressure surge freely.
It was dense, heavy like tar. A re wisp of it brushed against Shuuichi—and a line of blood split open across his forehead.
"Yes, Captain Kuryashiki. I am acting under orders from the Dōma Clan."
Shuuichi's voice remained steady, unwavering.
"I'll ask you one last ti."
Now the weight of Kuryashiki's reiatsu engulfed Shuuichi's entire body.
One thought—one twitch of intent—and Shuuichi would be turned to spiritual dust.
"Yes, Captain! No matter how many tis you ask , my answer will remain the sa! This is the truth—I have no reason to deny it!"
Shuuichi t Kuryashiki's gaze head-on, his expression resolute.
Then, all at once, the crushing pressure vanished.
Shuuichi collapsed forward, gasping for breath, his uniform soaked in sweat.
"Hahahahaha! Higashi Shuuichi, you brat, I like you! A man who beca a Shinigami out of admiration for ? That's the kind of story I can get behind!"
Kuryashiki's mood flipped entirely, now laughing heartily like a man reborn.
And Shuuichi knew—this was the real Kuryashiki Kenpachi.
In truth, he'd always suspected Aizen had modeled his "good guy" façade after soone like Kuryashiki. A man flawless in strength, character, loyalty, and leadership.
A Kenpachi who willingly died for the title.
A captain who avenged his subordinates by storming Hueco Mundo alone.
A ntor who poured his soul into training Ichijō Souya—even if that so-called student ultimately killed him.
Maybe Kuryashiki lacked the genius of a Unohana in combat, or Aizen in intellect. But in every other domain, he stood at the summit.
A Shinigami like that wouldn't lash out over so noble house imprisoning his successor.
Even after two centuries in Hell, Shuuichi refused to believe it.
No, Kuryashiki had rely been testing him.
And it made sense. Outside of certain brain-dead brawlers, no Shinigami would just believe the word of a total stranger, comrade or not.
Shuuichi had gambled on that truth—and won.
"Thinking about it, I ought to thank the Dōma Clan." Kuryashiki grinned. "If not for them, I'd never have known there was soone like you—a Shinigami inspired by !"
His laughter rang loud and bright.
But Shuuichi's smile was false. His heart, carefully guarded.
"I just never thought... by the ti I finally beca a Shinigami... you'd already be..."
"And before I ca here, I asked the nobles of the Dōma Clan. They told the truth. I could guide the souls of Sinners and Jōnin back to the Soul Society...
But those already branded by Hell—like you, Captain—they said I can't bring you back whole."
His voice cracked with quiet pain.
But Kuryashiki just smiled.
To him, death was already long behind. Maybe Hell wasn't such a bad resting place, after all.
Especially if the next generation bore his will so completely.
This Shinigami—this Higashi Shuuichi—was sharp, fearless, and utterly dedicated. Appointed by the Dōma Clan, no less.
Kuryashiki knew full well how picky those nobles were.
The Shihōin, the Kuchiki, the Shiba—those exalted houses didn't choose retainers lightly.
And soone sent to Hell on their behalf? That choice would be scrutinized.
("Jūmakura Jin: I have sothing to say, but I don't know if I should...")
Add to that Shuuichi's anger over Ichijō's imprisonnt...
To Kuryashiki, Shuuichi wasn't just so deputy squad leader. He was a spiritual heir—a vessel for Kuryashiki's ideals.
"It's alright, Shuuichi. I died already. There's no need to feel sad you can't bring back. I'm sure the others here feel the sa."
Kuryashiki stepped closer and rested a hand on Shuuichi's shoulder.
Did the others really not want to go back?
Of course not. They wanted to return—desperately.
But if Kuryashiki said they didn't, then they didn't.
Anyone who had a problem with that could co say it to his face.
He was confident—rightfully so.
"But Captain... Ichijō..."
Shuuichi spoke softly—planting a seed.
"That brat Ichijō, huh..."
Kuryashiki rubbed his chin, eyes darkening.
He was stuck. There was nothing he could do for the Soul Society, not from down here.
So of his fury had been fake—but so had been real. He couldn't understand why Ichijō had let himself be scapegoated like that.
But what could he do?
He was invincible here. But not invincible enough to break free.
Maybe... maybe he could train this kid. Cut him a path. Hand him a shortcut.
Help him bag one of those powered-up ancient nos and finish his mission.
Wait. A shortcut?
Kuryashiki paused.
Co to think of it... Shuuichi never said how long he planned to stay here, did he?
Capturing one Hell-empowered nos could take ti. Lots of ti.
And that... was normal. Right?
Kuryashiki's grin turned twisted.
Shuuichi, outwardly curious, was popping champagne in his head.
He knew.
Kuryashiki had taken the bait.
Because the greatest predators are never seen for what they are.
They play the prey.
And in this hunt, Higashi Shuuichi was both hunter...
and the wounded animal.
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