In the silent study, a brown-haired young man quietly stared at the mission slip on the desk.
Just a few simple lines described a tragic incident in Rukongai: in West District 64, Sabitsura, an entire village of souls had vanished without a trace, with no signs of struggle at the scene.
It was as if something had simply erased them.
"Creepy, isn't it?"
Beside him, a man with flowing blond hair and a teasing smile spoke lazily.
"Other squads' Shinigami have already gone to investigate, but they didn't find a single useful clue. It's like that place itself has been rejected by some kind of rule."
"The Sabitsura area has no shortage of drifters and roaming swordsmen on par with elite Shinigami, but they vanished as well. This should've been a job for the vice-captain."
"But that guy just happened to get sent to the World of the Living, and everyone else is busy, so your beloved captain has decided—"
"To leave it in your hands."
"Aizen, you won't let your captain down, will you?"
Aizen calmly read through the mission slip several times, then looked up with a gentle smile.
"Captain, the situation is serious. If it's just me alone, it might be a bit too much."
"Well, your captain has considered that too." The man's smile grew a shade more devious. "So—"
"I specially requested support from Central."
Aizen nodded. "In that case, I have no objections."
"Make sure you get along well with your teammate~"
Hirako Shinji's tone was light and sing-song, an odd glint flickering in his eyes as he stared at Aizen.
The next morning.
When Aizen arrived at the designated rendezvous point, what he saw was a figure he hadn't expected at all.
"Yo, hisashiburi da na, Aizen."
Someone greeted him in a very familiar tone. "How's life in Fifth Division? Started getting targeted yet?"
"If you're not happy, come transfer to Hell. I've got you covered here."
Aizen: "…"
This guy was as unreliable as ever.
This time really did catch him off guard. He hadn't expected the "support" Shinji mentioned to be another rookie who'd only recently joined a squad—just like him.
Was Central that short on manpower now?
"Didn't think my first mission would have me teamed up with my best buddy," Naraku Sora said cheerfully. "With the two of us working together this time, we'll crush the enemy and make sure they never come back!"
He patted his pockets before realizing he didn't smoke—he'd been about to offer his old friend a couple of cigarettes for old times' sake.
Aizen stayed silent. He'd originally assumed that once they were assigned to different divisions, they wouldn't have much to do with each other anymore.
Clearly, he'd been too naïve.
He'd underestimated just how clingy this guy's "haunting spirit" could be.
"Have you gone through the mission intel?" Aizen asked calmly.
Naraku shook his head. "I was going to, but once I heard my partner was you, I figured I might as well not waste the effort."
That's what he said—but in reality, Nishikawa had already explained the details to him.
Naraku had quickly realized that, with his level of brainpower, he wasn't going to see any deeper patterns anyway, so he'd simply stopped trying to burn mental energy on it.
He'd heard "there are criminals to catch" and immediately trotted over, without thinking much else.
Aizen could only sigh helplessly.
Ever since he'd met this guy, he'd had a bad feeling.
There was a very real chance this mission would spiral out of control.
Even now, he still remembered their first practical soul-burial exercise in the World of the Living.
It was supposed to be the simplest assignment imaginable, but somehow this guy had run into a Hollow in the least likely place—
And not just any Hollow, but one on the verge of evolving into a Gillian.
The students and their supervising instructor had nearly broken themselves fighting just to hold it off until other stationed Shinigami arrived. They'd almost been wiped out.
Later, Aizen learned that Naraku had discovered a weak point in the boundary in some out-of-the-way corner.
And the passage opened by the soul burial ceremony happened to resonate with that weak spot.
Then came the "fun" part.
A near-Gillian-level Hollow, out hunting in Hueco Mundo, was dragged through the passage triggered by the ceremony and dropped into the World of the Living.
You couldn't really blame Naraku for that one—he was basically a victim of circumstance.
But over the course of their years at the academy, Aizen had realized this guy's luck was catastrophically bad.
If he skipped class, he would get caught.
If he went out, trouble would find him.
Even going to the safest district in Rukongai somehow got him dragged into a duel between wandering swordsmen.
In a way, that was a talent too.
Hopefully this time things would go smoothly.
Still…
Aizen studied his friend with a slightly puzzled look and found something off.
"Naraku, you seem… different from when we last parted."
Naraku grinned proudly. "You know the saying—after three days apart, you should look at someone with fresh eyes. Aizen, the current me—"
"Is scary strong!"
Aizen nodded ever so slightly, not contradicting him.
He didn't know what exactly had happened to Naraku, but he really had gotten stronger—and there was a sense of complete renewal about him.
Had he stumbled into some kind of opportunity… or learned his Zanpakutō's true name and reached Shikai?
He had to admit:
The changes in Naraku did pique his curiosity.
After a bit more idle chatter, the two headed to their mission site together.
Rukongai was divided into four major sectors—east, west, south, and north. Each sector was further split into eighty numbered districts, arranged in rings around Seireitei at the center.
This time, the abnormal incident had occurred in West Rukongai, District 64—Sabitsura, Outer Quarter.
Because the Outer Quarter was relatively remote, it hadn't affected the atmosphere of the Inner Quarter.
The streets were still bustling and noisy.
"Everyone's as friendly as ever."
Standing in a narrow alley, Naraku watched two yakuza gangs hacking each other to pieces, blood and flesh flying everywhere, and sighed with heartfelt emotion.
Aizen: "…"
Do you… misunderstand what the word "friendly" means?
As someone born in Rukongai's dirt, Naraku was already used to scenes like this.
But as a newly-minted nemesis of evil, he didn't mind meddling.
He released a tiny sliver of Reiatsu.
A razor-edge sense of danger stabbed into the hearts of the two gangs. They instinctively stopped mid-swing and turned, one after another, toward the alley's mouth.
Two straight-backed figures stood there.
"Sh–Sh–Shinigami…"
No one knew who stammered it first, but it was like a drop of water hitting boiling oil.
The crowd immediately scattered in all directions.
Aizen ignored Naraku's little joke and instead carefully felt out the Reiatsu he'd just released.
There was a strange sense of familiarity to it, as if he'd seen it somewhere before.
But no matter how he thought about it, nothing came.
Aizen frowned slightly.
This was the first time he'd run into a problem he had absolutely no lead on.
The changes in Naraku were making him more and more curious—almost like…
The unknown he himself was pursuing.
After chasing off the brawling gangs, the two of them finally arrived at the northern edge of the Sabitsura Outer Quarter, a medium-sized village in a relatively remote spot.
What greeted them was deathly silence.
Lanterns swayed gently under the eaves. Dead leaves blew past on the wind, which sobbed faintly through the empty houses.