The corner of Shiki Mirai's mouth twitched slightly.
He didn't know why, but every time his captain uttered the words "won't take too much of your time" with that righteously stoic face of his…
He couldn't help but picture the man foaming at the mouth and collapsing the next second.
"Forgive me, forgive me…" He shook his head violently, banishing that utterly disrespectful mental image.
In all fairness, after years of working together, Shiki held genuine respect for Captain Muguruma Kensei.
The man carried the air of an old-school vigilante—a big brother figure from a bygone era—always looking out for his subordinates.
Even when dealing with a habitual slacker and slippery eel like Shiki, Kensei never punished him seriously. At worst, he'd bark a few scoldings with a straight face.
Shiki plastered on a sweet, obedient smile and quickly stepped forward.
"Captain, what can I do for you? If Vice-Captain Kuna asked you to push for another update…"
He raised his hands helplessly, face full of "I've done all I can" expression.
"You know how it is. A man's gotta eat to write. That Hell Girl thing flopped hard—numbers plunged into the earth's core. If I keep writing it, I won't even be able to afford White Burn!"
At the mention of "Vice-Captain," a rare flicker of exasperation crossed Kensei's otherwise cold expression.
He sighed quietly and said, "Not entirely about that… but yes, she's somewhat involved."
He raised his head again, tone regaining its usual firmness.
"You know tomorrow is the day the Shin'o Academy graduates choose their squads. As per tradition, I was supposed to go personally…"
He paused, seeming to weigh his words, before continuing:
"But Vice-Captain Kuna… suddenly decided she wants to take a trip to Western Rukongai tomorrow. And she specifically requested I accompany her."
"Ohhhhhh—" Shiki's voice stretched as realization dawned.
He narrowed his eyes into slits and stared silently at his captain, meaning radiating from every wrinkle of his face.
Well, well! So in your mind, taking the vice-captain out on a picnic is more important than replenishing squad personnel, huh?!
Sure, Vice-Captain Kuna was a genius, earning her spot just a couple of years after graduation—but still, how much of that was official merit and how much was personal favor? Who could say?
And besides, even if she had to go frolicking through the countryside, weren't there still the 3rd and 4th Seats around?
Why the hell would a lowly 5th Seat like him be chosen to represent the 9th Division?
And just earlier, Captain Hirako from the 5th Division had basically warned him not to show his face at the Academy… If they ran into each other, that would be the definition of awkward!
Of course, none of these rebellious thoughts made it past his lips.
Instead, Shiki channeled all his protests and judgment into those squinting eyes and the slight twitch of his expression.
Kensei remained impassive, clearly used to these silent grievances.
Then he changed tack.
"If you're unwilling to go to the Academy, that's fine too. There's plenty of backed-up paperwork here at the headquarters…"
He pointed casually to the administrative office, its lights still glowing dimly in the late night.
"You can take over from 3rd Seat. Starting tomorrow, the workload is yours."
Shiki's expression changed instantly.
His smile turned dazzling as he pounded his chest with conviction.
"Now, Captain, let's not be hasty! The 3rd Seat's a total clam—three hits and not a word! How could he possibly recruit anyone? This sort of responsibility, which directly affects the squad's future, should definitely go to me!"
"I promise, I'll figure out a way to rope—I mean, recruit—some real talents!"
Paperwork? That mountain of daily forms could smother a man!
Even just stamping them would destroy his wrist.
Compared to that, staring into the abyss that was Hirako Shinji's glare was child's play.
"No need for geniuses," Kensei muttered, side-eyeing him with undisguised contempt.
"If we get a few more 'geniuses' like you and Kuna, the 9th Division's days will be numbered."
Shiki, well-accustomed to that brand of disdain, immediately turned and bolted toward his room, calling over his shoulder:
"Then it's settled, Captain! I'll handle recruitment tomorrow, no problem!"
His footsteps quickened. Better to get to his room and sleep before something else "unexpected" happened.
BANG!
He slammed the door shut behind him and finally relaxed.
Muttering "barely made it out," he reached for the sash of his uniform.
But then his eyes drifted across the room—and froze.
In an instant, he straightened up. His left hand casually dusted off his clothes while his right crept silently toward the hilt of his Zanpakutō.
He turned slightly toward the darkest corner of the room, taking slow, careful steps backward until his back pressed against the door.
Shiiing—!
With a flash of steel, he drew his blade in a cold, clean arc, pointing it squarely at the shadowed corner.
"Who's there?! You've got some nerve sneaking into the 9th Division!"
His voice was like ice.
"Captain Muguruma is in the courtyard right now. Are you trying to die?"
He paused, feeling the reassuring solidity of the door at his back. Using his heel, he gently nudged the door open behind him.
"You come out now, and we can talk this out. But if you force me to call the Captain…"
"…you'll be eating complimentary jail rations for a few days."
Click.
The door creaked open. Moonlight trickled in, flooding the shadowed corner—
—and illuminating the silhouette of a small, furry, black creature.
"Meow~?"
A tiny black cat sat there, tilting its head and gazing up at him with wide, golden, slit-pupiled eyes.
It even raised a paw and began licking it with a dainty pink tongue. Cute enough to melt anyone's heart.
Shiki blinked, then slowly sheathed his Zanpakutō with a chuckle of relief.
"Oh… just a lost little stray…"
But instead of closing the door, he threw it wide open with a flourish.
Then, cupping his hands to his mouth, he bellowed toward the courtyard:
"Vice-Captain Kuna! You've gotta see this! There's an adorable little black kitty in my room!!"
Oh hell. That's not a cat. That's a walking disaster!
Why the hell is Lady Yoruichi of the Shihōin Clan in my room?!
But as the saying goes—where snakes slither, antidotes are never far behind.
The black cat froze. Confusion flickered in those golden eyes—then raw panic.
"MEOWWW!!!"
It let out a shrill screech and launched itself like a bolt of black lightning.
Its sleek body, lit by the moon, was a vision of grace and power.
It almost made it.
Just as it leapt toward the outer wall—
A petite figure appeared out of thin air, snatching it mid-flight into a crushing embrace.
"Yaaaah! So cuuute! Where did you come from, little baby?! Are you lost? Let big sis hold you~!"
Vice-Captain Kuna Mashiro had arrived.
Still dressed in her baggy Shihakushō, she clutched the wildly struggling black cat like a prized plushie, rubbing her cheek against its head despite its frantic howls of protest.
The poor cat flailed and kicked, casting a desperate glance toward Shiki.
"MEOW—!!"
SHIKI MIRAI YOU SON OF A—!!
"Awwww, are you hungry, kitty? Don't worry, don't worry~ Big sis has lots of yummy snacks in her room!"
Ignoring the cat's violent thrashing, Kuna gleefully skipped off, carrying it like a treasure.
After a few steps, she turned back with a brilliant smile.
"Little Mirai! Once I get back from my trip tomorrow, make sure Hell Girl has two new chapters! Or else… heehee~!"
"Y-Yes ma'am! Consider it done! Safe travels, Vice-Captain!"
Shiki snapped to attention and saluted, watching her carry the poor, screaming feline into her room.
Only after the door clicked shut did he truly relax.
He pressed his palms together and bowed repeatedly toward her door.
"Blessed be the heavens and the righteous gods of the Soul Society…"
From what he'd heard, no creature had ever left Kuna's "care" completely unscathed.
Even someone as legendary as the Flash Goddess of the Future, Shihōin Yoruichi, might not survive this ordeal unscarred.
Shiki scampered back into his room, slammed the door again, and shoved his heavy wardrobe in front of it just in case.
Only after barricading himself in did he finally collapse into bed.
As he drifted off into slumber, a faint, anguished meow echoed from the distance.
A cry full of indignation and despair.
It was… beautiful.
Soothing, even.
Shiki turned over and smiled peacefully.
And slept like a baby.