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Soulmaxxing — Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2025-11-01 19:25:32 +0000 UTCI stood above a sand dune, staring at the dim-lit, endless expanse of desert stretching everywhere around me, brow furrowed in annoyance. Crossing the Menos forest had been a pain in the ass, but I’d rather do that again instead of this bullshit.
Reaching the surface was all nice and dandy, but it came with a simple question. How the fuck did anyone find anything in this place?
Even with my cheating eyes, I really wished I had the Ghost Mexico version of Google Maps. I vaguely knew the direction where Las Noches was supposed to be at, but that did little to help me with my current goal.
Rushing headfirst into Arrancar central might not be the smartest thing to do, just in case that some of the troublesome Espada turned outright hostile… but I was really tempted to do just that, instead of wasting my time searching for a snot-nosed brat in this giant, sandy haystack.
<[]>
“Come now, I don’t look that scary, do I?”
The two arrancar inched another step back, only to freeze as they nearly bumped into the small child hiding behind them.
“W-what does a soul reaper want from us?” the tall and lanky one, Pesche, swallowed his fear and spoke.
“Aw, you forgot me already?” I pushed a note of disappointment in my tone, cracking an eye open. “It hasn’t been that long, you know?”
“My apologies!” he said, bowing deeply at the waist. “I was just playing dumb!”
“Then you must have an idea why I’m—
“Don’t bully my friends, ya bad guy!” A scratchy, childish voice cut in as Nel stepped out from behind her fracción, glaring up at me with big, round eyes. “Just pick on Nel if ya wanna pick on someone!”
I couldn’t help it. A quiet chuckle escaped me as I shook my head. These guys weren’t as annoying as I expected.
“Oh, but I’m not here to pick on any of ya,” I said, a smirk playing on my lips. “On the contrary, I went through this trouble to bring ya three back to Las Noches.”
They all went silent.
Pesche shared a quick, side-eyed look with his bulky friend, before shifting nervously on his feet. “Why? We’re a bunch of weaklings. Trash bugs. We’d only inconvenience you,” he said, Dondochakka nodding vigorously next to him.
“Whaddya mean ‘bring back’?” Nel looked between us in confusion, scratching at her cheek. “We never been dere before.”
I threw her an amused glanced, but Pesche quickly spoke up before I could even get a word in.
“We don’t belong among Lord Aizen’s soldiers. We’d rather stay here.”
“Are ya sure? I’m makin’ a pretty good offer.”
Pesche hesitated for a moment, throwing a side glance at Nel.
“She never liked fighting. We don’t want her to live like that.”
“Oh? But shouldn’t you let her make her own decision once she’s healed? That’s what a true friend would do, don’t’cha think so?”
Pesche’s eyes grew wide. “Y-you can heal her?!”
“Of course.” My smirk widened slightly. “It’s why I came here to begin with.”
“I—umm, well, in that case—
“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” the brat chimed in with a scowl. “Nel’s a big girl. I’ll listen to what the bad guy has to say.”
“That’s the spirit. But we’ll talk after I fix ya.”
I crouched down to her level, folding my hands atop my knees as my eyes flickered to her damaged mask. “C’mere.”
She didn’t move. She just kept glaring at me with that kind of stubbornness that only a small child could muster.
“Whaddya mean fix me? Nel ain’t broken!” she said, puffing her cheeks adorably, and I shook my head with an indulgent smile as her fracción watched us uncertainly.
“No, but your mask is.”
Nel froze, eyes widening in surprise as she unconsciously brought a hand to her head. “Ya can fix Nel’s mask?!”
“Sure, I can.” I dug a hand in my pocket and brought out the infinity stone, holding it between two fingers in front of Nel’s face as the girl’s eyes widened.
“Whoa… it’sh shiny ‘n pretty…”
I’ve fiddled with it a bit on my way here, and while it might take a few weeks for it to awaken, it could mess with souls no problem.
“Here.”
I reached closer, and just like a cat, Nel followed the all-powerful orb with her gaze as I tapped it on her mask. All it took was a little nudge from my spiritual pressure, and the hogyōku did its magic.
The crack in her mask glowed a soft, bluish light, and then it dimmed, leaving behind smooth, flawless bone. A heartbeat later, just as I took a step back, Nel’s spiritual pressure rose like a tidal wave, surging out of her in a cloud of pink smoke. I ignored the surprised cries of those two clowns, taking a good look at the bombshell standing in front of me as I slipped the infinity marble back inside my pocket.
Her mask had returned to its original shape, the vague shape of a goat skull crowning her head. Long, green hair framed her heart-shaped face, spilling over her shoulders, all the way to the small of her back.
Her gown had ripped to the point where it barely hid her modesty, half of it straining to contain her massive bust, and the other clinging to the curve of her hips through a flimsy string of cloth.
A shame that Hueco Mundo wasn’t particularly windy.
But that smooth and deliciously flat stomach was a good enough consolation prize.
A pang of disappointment curled deeply inside my chest. If only I hadn’t seen her as a snot-nosed brat not even two minutes ago…
A soft sigh escaped my nose as I pressed my lips in a thin, dissatisfied line, hazel eyes studying me intently all the while.
“Thank you.” Nel suddenly broke the silence, and I took a step back, just in time as a flash of movement entered the corner of my vision.
“Lady Nelliel!” Dumb and Dumber shouted as they rushed at the woman, pulling her into a bear hug.
Quickly getting over the brief surprise, Nel’s expression softened as she wrapped her arms around those two. “Stop crying, you two,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her fracción only bawled harder at that.
Despite the tender moment, I found myself frowning, a pang of jealousy clenching in my chest. I looked away, staring idly at the endless sand dunes in the distance.
When was the last time I gave Rangiku a hug…
I should’ve reassured her more before leaving like that…
“Did Lord Aizen send you to find me?”
My attention went back to Nel. Her fracción had stepped aside, and she was standing there with a curious gleam in her eyes.
“Nah, Aizen’s dead.” I couldn’t help the cheeky smile that pulled at my cheeks. Whoever said that vengeance felt hollow had never tasted a good vengeance. “We had a lil’ disagreement, and he came up short.”
There was a beat of silence, Nel’s gaze narrowing slightly. “And you killed him.”
I met her glare with a lazy shrug. “He had it comin’ for a long time.”
“Is that a reason to kill someone?”
More silence stretched between us. I cracked open an eye, the two of us staring at one another for a tense moment.
Was she for real?
“Are ya sayin’ ya wouldn’t do the same if ya ever saw him hurt your fracción just ta advance his selfish agenda?”
The question hit Nel like a slap in the face, her eyes widening. A flicker of satisfaction warmed my chest as she went quiet, a frown settling on her lips. Maybe the next time she wouldn’t run her mouth without knowing the context.
“I would appreciate if you didn’t put words in my mouth.”
Bitch, please. I held back a scoff, smiling instead. “Sorry, sorry. But ya get my point.”
Nel stayed quiet for a good few moments, her eyes narrowed in thought. “You don’t expect me to follow you simply because you deposed Aizen, do you?” she eventually spoke, and I waved a hand dismissively.
“Of course not. I’d rather ya followed me for my fun, charmin’ personality.”
The joke fell as flat as the look she kept giving me.
Tough crowd, huh?
“I have no interest in fighting anyone else’s wars.”
Fair point, I’d give her that. Too bad it had nothing to do with this.
“Oh, but ya misunderstand. I could care less ‘bout continuing whatever Aizen started. I came here ta make sure the Espada would behave.”
Half of them were psychos who only fell in line because Aizen was a scary mofo. Take that away, and they’d turn into a headache for Soul Society by the end of the week.
Nel pursed her lips, another thoughtful look crossing her face. “While I’m grateful for your aid, I have no intention of returning to the Espada.”
Uh-huh. Bet.
“That’s a shame.” I gave a disappointed shake of my head. “And here I thought ya might have unfinished business with some of ‘em. Number five and a certain scientist if I recall?”
Nel stilled, a slight twitch at the corner of her lips before a frown settled on her face.
“That’s none of your business.”
I met her pointed glare with a small, placating smile. “Fair enough.” I shouldn’t push the issue too hard.
Despite that, Nel went quiet, an unreadable look on her face.
Oops. That might’ve been too much.
“I only want ya with me just in case that Ulquiorra turns out ta be a problem,” I said, and Nel arched a dainty eyebrow.
“You can’t take him on your own?”
If Shinsō wasn’t being a moody child, sure. Without it, though? It’d be such a pain.
“I’d rather not waste my energy on pointless things,” I said. “Fighting him would be a drag. He’s been hidin’ his power.”
“Hiding his power?” Nel said, voice tinged with skepticism.
“He has a ‘second stage’ to his Resurrección. He’s stronger than Barragan and maybe even Starrk in that form.”
“And what difference would I make as the former number three?”
“You’d distract him, of course,” I said, unbothered by her frown. “I have a way to deal with that pasty boy, but it needs someone ta keep ‘im off my back.”
“So, you want me as bait.”
“I prefer the term bodyguard.”
Nel went silent again, her lips drawing a thin line. “Fine,” she said begrudgingly after a while, drawing surprised looks from her fracción. “But—
“Lady Nelliel—
—on one condition. You must promise me that Pesche and Dondochakka will be safe, no matter what.”
“You don’t have to worry about us—
“No.” She silenced Pesche with a glare. “You two were hurt once. I won’t let it happen again.”
“But—
“Sure,” I said, and all three of them went silent.
Nel blinked in surprise, her lips parting slightly before she closed her mouth. Too bad I didn’t have a camera with me. She was making a wallpaper-worthy face.
As I kept looking at her though, something occurred to me and my lips curled faintly. “Alright.” I clapped my hands lightly, the popping sound breaking the quiet. “If we’re done negotiating, can you show me your Resurrección?”
Nel blinked in confusion at the sudden request. “What for?”
“Because I used the hogyōku to fix you,” I flashed her a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that made you stronger.”
She seemed to consider it for a moment, before nodding slightly. “I see.”
My smile grew the tiniest bit wider. Perfect.
I looked at the two clowns standing next to Nel. “You shouldn’t stand so close, just in case.”
They considered it for a second, blinking owlishly, before turning around and putting a good distance between us.
Once those two moved far enough, she unsheathed her sword, holding it horizontally against her opened palm.
“Declare,”
The sword glowed a bright, intense pink, reiatsu leaking from the tip like steam.
“Gamuza.”
A torrent of spiritual pressure erupted from Nel like a volcano, kicking up sand and a gust of wind. I flared my own reiatsu in response, using it like a shield as Nel’s spiritual pressure engulfed the place.
My brows climbed up a fraction as the lightshow finally ended. Huh… Her reiatsu did in fact look a little denser than Tōsen’s and weighted more heavily on my shoulders than what I remembered.
As expected from the infinity stone.
Mouth twitching in brief amusement, I slowly circled around Nel, thumbing my chin thoughtfully. Her human half blended quite seamlessly with her horse half, but those random bits of armor looked anything but practical. Her lower half would’ve looked cooler with some warhorse armor.
I gave a thoughtful hum, my eyes lingering on her bushy tail and that dark, puffy slit peeking from underneath.
Mmm, horse pussy…
A real shame I couldn’t get that snaggletoothed babyface out of my head… clapping a centaur from behind would’ve been wild. Especially if she suddenly took the lead and rammed her ass into me until I’d hit the nearest wall—
“You were right. I feel stronger than what I remember.”
Nel’s voice snapped me out of my musings, and I just flashed her a smirk. Being able to see with your eyes closed was an underrated perk.
“Told ya.” I pointed a finger playfully at her as I came to a stop. “Now let’s get going.”
I turned around, gesturing for them to follow. I’d spent enough time in this annoying desert.
Next stop, Los Nachos.
<[]>
The air in the meeting hall carried the scent of old wood and simmering tension. Jūshirō adjusted his posture slightly, brushing off the nagging ache in his chest from yesterday’s fight, and let his eyes drift quietly across the gathered captains.
Yamamoto sat on his tall-backed chair at the front of the hall, hands resting atop his cane and eyes closed. The old man had mastered the art of looming without shifting an inch, his aura filling the air like gathering storm clouds.
“We shall begin,” Yamamoto’s rough voice sliced into the quiet, sharp and sudden. No preamble. No small talk. Jūshirō appreciated that. Sometimes, it was better to rip off the bandages quickly.
“Yesterday’s events have left us in a precarious position.” The old man’s eyes slowly opened, just slightly enough to pin everyone with that ancient, uncompromising stare. “Aizen’s treachery, his unexpected death at the hands of Captain Ichimaru, and their retreat to Hueco Mundo. With the sudden loss of Central 46, it falls upon us to decide a course of action.”
A beat of silence rolled in, heavy and awkward. Jūshirō’s hand curled slightly on the side of his haori. Aizen didn’t only betray Soul Society, he beheaded its government too.
“Three captains,” Kenpachi spoke up from beside him, voice carrying that perpetual edge of boredom. “We lost three captains in a single day. That’s gotta be some kind of record.”
“Not lost,” Soi Fon snapped, her small frame stiff, like a wire wound too far. “Aizen’s dead. Tōsen is a traitor. And Ichimaru—”
She paused, and Jūshirō watched her jaw moved while she searched for the right word. Not just her though; others were searching for it too. What was Ichimaru now?
“If what he said is true,” Jūshirō heard himself say, the words coming out softer than he intended, “he’s been waiting for a long time to stab Aizen in the back.”
Shunsui shifted across from him, and Jūshirō caught the subtle twitch of his friend’s fingers tugging at the brim of his hat, their gazes meeting for a moment, a thoughtful wrinkle forming above the man’s nose.
“The question,” Mayuri interjected, his voice dripping with that smug note of condescension that grated at Jūshirō’s ears, “is whether we believe anything that snake said. For all we know, this was simply a power struggle between conspirators.”
“He took Aizen down,” Hitsugaya stated, voice dull. The young captain’s gaze stayed piercing, even as his tired frame slumped a little. “That should mean something.”
“Does it?” Soi Fon’s voice cracked like a whip. “He still fled. He disobeyed a direct order from the Captain-Commander. He’s—”
“Delivered Captain Tōsen to us on a silver platter.”
Unohana spoke up, her tone quiet but clear as all eyes turned to her. She was standing there with her hands clasped in front, her face as peaceful as ever, though her deep blue eyes shone with something close to quiet laughter.
“What?” Komamura’s deep voice bounced off the walls. The tall captain took a step forward, fists tightening by his hips. “Why am I only hearing this now?”
“Because,” she said, a slight edge to her words, “traitor or not, he is currently my patient.”
The wolf-man’s shoulders stiffened even more. “What happened?”
“Shortly after Captain Ichimaru’s departure,” Unohana continued, her tone calm and soft, “one of my seated officers reported that Captain Tōsen fell from a Senkaimon just outside our barracks. He was unconscious and severely wounded.” She paused, and Jūshirō caught the faintest quirk at the corner of her mouth. “He also had a red, foam ball stuck on his nose and a paper hat on his head, labeled with the word ‘moron.’”
The silence that followed was deafening.
A sound slipped out from Shunsui, half snort, half choked laugh, shattering the silence like glass. He faked a cough right after, and Jūshirō couldn’t help a tiny smile of his own. That mental image of Tōsen, out cold and decorated like some sort of twisted gift, was a bit too ridiculous to wrap his mind around.
“You think this is funny?” Komamura growled. His eyes stayed fixed on Shunsui, yet beneath that stillness, his reiatsu trembled, barely leashed.
“Not at all,” Shunsui said, but his eyes still held that telltale crinkle. “Just... noting that Gin has a peculiar sense of humor.”
“Humor,” Komamura repeated, the word sounding wrong in his mouth. “My friend nearly died, and you speak of humor.”
“He didn’t die, though.” Kenpachi’s voice was almost disappointed. “All that buildup, and he just roughed him up and sent him back to us? I didn’t think Ichimaru was this soft.”
Jūshirō cleared his throat gently. “I’d say this gives more credence to Ichimaru’s words. He subdued Tōsen rather than kill him.”
“It’s pragmatic, if nothing else,” Kurotsuchi drawled, voice bordering on disinterest. “Still a pointless charade.”
“It’s a humiliation—
“We’re dancing around the real issue.” Soi Fon interjected. “Just like Aizen, Ichimaru deceived us all. He lied about the nature of his Bankai and kept its true capabilities secret for decades.”
The room felt colder as a few captains exchanged glances. Hitsugaya’s jaw tightened, Kurotsuchi’s painted face shifted, in curiosity or irritation, while Shunsui reached once more for the brim of his hat.
“This sets an unacceptable precedent,” Soi Fon continued, her gaze sweeping across the gathered captains. “If we cannot trust our fellow captains to be truthful about their abilities, how can we function as a unified military force?”
“Captain Soi Fon has a point,” Hitsugaya said, crossing his arms. “We plan strategies based on knowing what each captain can do. If that information is wrong...”
“Then people die,” Kurotsuchi finished, though he sounded more curious than concerned. “Though I must admit, the deception itself was quite elegant. To maintain that fiction for so long, while keeping even Aizen fooled... it shows a level of discipline I wouldn’t have credited him with.”
Jūshirō glanced down at the polished, wooden floor, his own face looking back grimly. He’d never been that close to Gin, the man kept everyone at an arm’s length, but what happened yesterday proved he didn’t know him at all. How long had Gin been planning this? How much about him was nothing but well-crafted lies?
“While Captain Soi Fon raises a legitimate concern,” Komamura spoke up, his rough voice much steadier now, “I believe we have more pressing matters to discuss. The Arrancar army that Ichimaru mentioned. If he was telling the truth, then we need to assess this threat at once.”
“Assuming that such an army even exists in the first place,” Soi Fon added.
“I doubt he’d lie about something like that,” Jūshirō said, a little surprised at his own words, but all he got was a doubtful look from the high-strung woman.
“Like he lied about everything else?”
“Bah! All this pointless talking,” Zaraki scoffed, a flicker of disdain in his uncovered eye. “If there’s an army of Hollows, then we just gotta kill ‘em all. Simple as that.”
“What a brilliant solution.” Kurotsuchi’s smile was something wide and mocking, revealing his pearly white teeth. “It seems that even a muscle headed oaf can say something intelligent every now and then.”
“Shut up, Kurotsuchi. You want me to start with you?”
“What did you say?”
“You wanna die right now?” Zaraki’s spiritual pressure twisted like a blade, his grin flashing with something dark and hungry.
Kurotsuchi scoffed. “As if a simpleton like you could—
The sound of wood hitting the floor split the thick air, echoing down the hall like a whipcrack. The arguing ceased instantly.
“Enough of this foolishness,” the Captain-Commander said, his voice like grinding stone. “We have lost three captains. We lack intelligence on the situation in Hueco Mundo, and we lack clarity on Ichimaru’s true intentions. For now, we shall wait.”
“Wait?” Kurotsuchi spoke in disbelief. “Why aren’t we pursuing Ichimaru immediately? The Hōgyoku is in his possession.”
That name hung in the air like a curse. Jūshirō caught glimpses of worry on a few captains’ faces. Blasted thing... If hearsay did not embellish anything, letting it fall in Aizen’s hands would’ve been a disaster.
“Leaving such a powerful object in the hands of someone who displayed questionable judgment and a talent for deception would be foolish. The Hōgyoku must be secured and studied properly by someone who understands its dangers and potential.”
“By you, you mean,” Soi Fon said flatly.
“Naturally.”
Jūshirō clamped his mouth in a tight line, fatigue settling over his shoulders like an old coat. What was the point of all this bickering?
“The Hōgyoku is not a priority for now.” Yamamoto’s voice was final. “Captain Soi Fon.” The woman stood a little straighter as the old man spoke her name. “You have permission to dispatch the Stealth Force in Hueco Mundo. Report to me directly.”
“Understood.” Soi Fon spoke crisply with a slight nod of her head.
“Captain-Commander,” Kurotsuchi spoke once more, “that seems too passive. The Hōgyoku—
Crack.
Yamamoto’s cane hit the floor again, harder this time. “Youngsters.” His gaze settled over them like a physical weight. “Did I not make myself clear enough?”
The room went deathly quiet. Even Kenpachi had the sense to keep his mouth shut.
Reluctant agreement settled on Kurotsuchi’s painted face as he looked away with a sneer. The man was always unpleasant, but even more so when denied something.
Jūshirō bit down a sigh. Why couldn’t Ichimaru handle things differently? This was a mess...
“Ichimaru shouldn’t be foolish enough to mess with the Hōgyoku,” Shunsui broke the silence, voice thoughtful. “He’s waited decades to kill Aizen, and the way he acted at the end... he might not even be interested in that shiny marble.”
“Shouldn’t be,” Kurotsuchi muttered. “What a reassuring assessment.”
“What about the Ryoka?” Hitsugaya spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention. “That Kurosaki boy has already achieved Bankai. It’s unheard of, even for a prodigy.”
Jūshirō’s gut clenched uncomfortably. The boy was dangerous, but... he’d rushed headfirst into Soul Society, all just to save a friend. Without him, Rukia would’ve died…
“The kid fights good. He’s got great potential. He’d fit well in the Eleventh,” Zaraki said, with something close to approval creeping into his voice. The others ignored the battle-obsessed man, probably for the best.
“That’s exactly the problem,” Hitsugaya said flatly. “He’s unpredictable.”
Yamamoto swept his gaze quietly across them, a tension filling the air as if the whole room held its breath. “The Ryoka are guests until they recover from their injuries,” he said, voice firm like steel. “Once able, they will return to the World of the Living.”
A wave of relief washed over Jūshirō. Those kids had been reckless and foolish, but they’d meant well. They didn’t deserve to be punished for something caused by the machinations of a treacherous captain.
“However.” The word hung heavily in the brief silence. “We must keep a close eye on that boy.” Those ancient eyes fixed on him, and Jūshirō felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. “Captain Ukitake shall handle this matter.”
Another Substitute Soul Reaper... Jūshirō swallowed a sigh and nodded. “Understood, Captain-Commander.”
He caught Shunsui’s knowing look from across the room, and this time his shoulders dipped with a faint, barely-there sigh. He’d make sure that things went better than the last time.
“There’s one thing I’d like to know, though.” Shunsui’s voice was deceptively light as he spoke. “Are we classifying Ichimaru as a traitor?”
A beat of silence stretched across the room, some of the gathered captains exchanging uncertain glances. That was the question they’d been dancing around the whole time, wasn’t it?
“No.” Yamamoto’s expression didn’t change. “His actions yesterday complicate matters. I'll leave that judgment to Central 46 once it reforms.”
Jūshirō felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards at the old man’s verdict. Most of the captains seemed satisfied too. Only Soi Fon wore a frown on her face, but the woman tended to look like that no matter the situation.
“You are all dismissed. Return to your duties.”
The captains broke rank after a moment, slowly filing out of the hall. Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi were the first to disappear, one heading to her duties, and the other to his obsession with science. Jūshirō lingered at the back, letting others pass as Shunsui fell in step at this side.
“And just when I thought we were having one of the more peaceful decades.”
The joke hung in the air between them as they stepped outside the meeting hall.
“At least he took out Aizen for us,” Shunsui continued in that deceptively light manner of his. “That perfect hypnosis would’ve been troublesome to deal with.”
Jūshirō nodded. They did trade a terrifying headache for a much smaller one... “The old man was more lenient than I’d expect.” He must’ve noticed something they didn’t if he chose to stall like that.
“I know. It surprised me too—
“Kenny! Kenny!”
A high-pitched voice came from across the waiting area, and Jūshirō spotted Lietenant Kusajishi running up to her captain with a wide smile, holding something in her hand. A rolled-up piece of paper.
“Look what I found!”
“The hell is that?” Kenpachi said gruffly as Yachiru skidded to a stop in front of him.
“Found it in our barracks!” Yachiru unfurled the paper with a giggle, holding it up for everyone to see. “Look! Isn’t it cute?”
Jūshirō stepped closer, taking a curious glance. He blinked in surprise. Then blinked again as everyone went quiet.
The bottom of the paper had a small signature: Gin Ichimaru.
Huh…
A low whistle broke the silence. “That’s... something.” Shunsui said, his easygoing tone holding a note of amusement.
“Creepy, more like,” Hitsugaya mumbled while walking past.
Zaraki kept staring at the sketch, face blank. “Burn this shit right now,” he said after a moment, a twitch on his brow.
“No way! It’s adorable!” Yachiru hugged the paper to her chest. “I’m gonna hang it in my room!”
“Like hell you will,” Zaraki shot back, though his tone lacked any real bite.
Jūshirō couldn’t stop the small smile pulling at his mouth. Was this Gin’s idea of a prank?
“Oh my.” Unohana said softly as she stopped beside Zaraki, her eyes lingering on the drawing. Calm as ever, her face didn’t shift, but something sharp flashed deep within her gaze. “Never thought Captain Ichimaru had a hand for drawing.”
She wasn’t the only one.
“Yachiru looks so happy with that smile.”
Something in her tone made Jūshirō’s skin prickle, and he saw the same realization dawn on Shunsui’s face.
Anyone who’d been around long enough knew about the First Kenpachi, even if only from tales or rumors.
A chill ran down Jūshirō’s back as an old story surfaced to mind, and suddenly, that sketch wasn’t funny anymore. He glanced again at the serene-looking captain, his stomach twisting unpleasantly.
It was a relief that she’d mellowed out a bit over the centuries…
_________________________________________________________________________
Author’s Note: Half the captains making doomsday scenarios while Gin is just vibing in Ghost Mexico :V
