"Interesting—so something like this exists in the world."
Aizen flipped through the pages, unable to hide the excited smile on his face.
No wonder Central 46 stirred up chaos in Rukongai; they were harvesting souls to craft this miraculous object called the Hōgyoku.
It was a pity the book didn't record how to create it—he could have saved himself a lot of effort.
Still, if they were making such a big move, they must have found a lead.
The Hōgyoku, capable of breaking the limits of a Shinigami... I wonder if Jay Censen would be interested.
Aizen immediately dismissed the thought.
Jay might be eccentric, but unlike himself, he still had morals.
I'll tell him after I succeed.
He returned the book to its place, checked the time, and left the hidden room.
I have to keep Jay from finding out—what a pain.
"Haha, Sōsuke! Standing before you is the Captain-Commander's personal disciple, Soul Society's crown prince, the future pillar of Soul Society—Lord Jay Censen!"
"Aizen Sōsuke, kneel and call me Foster Father right now, and when I rise to glory, I'll guarantee you a worry-free life."
Jay had rushed back to the dorm just to show off, but Aizen gave him no face—only a pat on the shoulder and silence.
"At least react! What is that supposed to mean?"
Jay sat on Aizen's bed, slung an arm around his shoulders, and pulled out the Kidō manual Ukitake had given him, waving it smugly.
"Captain Ukitake of the Thirteenth Division gave me this. It's packed with the Kidō he's mastered."
Aizen was tempted.
Shinigami battles came down to Reiatsu, but among equals, one still needed offensive options.
His Zanpakutō wasn't a direct combat type; he had to make up for it with Kidō.
"Name your price."
Aizen knew nothing was free—especially from Jay.
If he was offering, he already had conditions in mind.
"And if your condition is calling you 'Dad,' forget it."
The moment he said it, Jay's face fell from excitement to disappointment.
"What's that supposed to mean? Am I that kind of guy? That's slander!"
"Hmph."
Aizen stared at Jay, who was clutching his chest theatrically.
He knew exactly what sort of person he was—how dare he claim slander?
"I'm working on something new. When I get results, I'll share them with you."
Confident that Jay couldn't come up with anything serious, Aizen set his own terms—Jay wouldn't lose out.
"Fine, but wait until I finish studying it."
Jay rubbed his chin.
Aizen was half a researcher—not on the level of Urahara Kisuke or Kurotsuchi Mayuri, but he had good stuff.
"So, how did the Old Man suddenly take you as his formal disciple? Spill."
Jay recounted every detail of his trip to the First Division.
While he rambled on, Aizen analyzed.
When Jay finally ran out of breath, Aizen shared his thoughts.
"It looks like the Captain-Commander really intends to invest everything in you. How do you feel about that?"
"Old Man Yamamoto has been good to me. Backing him beats backing anyone else. And if he ever got serious, who in Soul Society could stop him?"
"The Kuchiki and Shihōin Clans are fine, but nobles have too many rules. The Old Man? Look at Kyōraku Shunsui—he just gets a beating."
"Jay, don't you have anything you want for yourself?"
Jay felt like a rudderless boat—immense talent, no drive.
Even gaining Captain-Commander Yamamoto's favor left him indifferent.
And Aizen sensed Jay knew more than he let on.
Normal people would tread carefully in Soul Society's power games, yet Jay trusted Yamamoto after only two meetings.
Plus, that first reaction when seeing me...
"Well, yeah—a handsome guy like me ought to marry three wives and four concubines, and live the high life."
"What an uncivilized monkey."
Aizen's face darkened.
With such gifts and only those thoughts—what an utter waste.
He shoved Jay off his bed and lay down, irritated.
Jay shrugged, pulled out Ukitake's manual, and started studying.
Got to impress the Old Man.
What kind of teacher slams his own disciple?
Most Kidō were support—illusions, healing—but better than nothing.
Besides, chanting the incantations looked cool; in Bleach, the most stylish fighter wins.
I wonder if Sōsuke will still rely on a single Kurohitsugi.
Jay glanced sympathetically at Aizen.
Right now, he's decent—he treats me like a friend.
If I keep this up, he won't turn traitor.
His warped mindset came from growing too strong too fast, alone, thinking himself a different species. Arrogance—or teenage angst.
I get it. The brat won't grow out of it without a few beatings.
That's why I'm befriending him—for a peaceful life later.
No rebellion means only Yhwach to worry about, and if Yamamoto lives, I can coast.
He tucked the manual away, planning how Aizen would repay him, and drifted off.
Hearing the steady breathing, Aizen rose, looked at the smiling sleeper, shook his head, and left.
Jay can't know my plan—it would only bring him trouble.
He's destined to be Soul Society's shining star; he can't be dragged down by someone as dark as me.
"Heh... I'm alone after all."
Under the crescent moon, Aizen gave a self-mocking smile.
"But before the truth comes out, let me enjoy this game of friendship a little longer."