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Chapter 264 B
🕑 Added 2025-02-19 16:00:12 +0000 UTCChapter 264
2-in-1 chapter
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“Come and eat, come and eat!”
Back at the 11th Division, Kaelith was waving a large paper bag in his hand, beaming. Yachiru Kusajishi rushed over first, grabbing a persimmon cake and taking a big bite.
“Mmm!”
Her cheeks dimpled as she chewed, face lit with pure happiness.
“It’s so yummy!”
“Heh heh, good stuff, right? My white-haired senior made these by hand—only place you’ll find ’em in the entire Soul Society!” Kaelith handed her another one.
Rangiku approached, wearing a somewhat nostalgic look.
“Persimmon cakes… Back when I was in Rukongai, I used to see them for sale in the village. I remember desperately wanting some at the time. Thinking about it now, it makes me a bit sentimental.”
Kaelith took one cake for himself, then shoved the bag toward Rangiku.
“Eat up. Satisfy those cravings you couldn’t before. Here in my 11th Division, we never let our squad go hungry.”
Seeing how generous her captain was, Rangiku couldn’t help smiling. Rather than take from the bag, though, she suddenly snatched Kaelith’s own cake. As he stared at her in puzzlement, she waved the “trophy” with a mischievous grin.
“Snatched ones taste better!”
Kaelith paused, then let out a mild sigh of realization. So that was where she got this mischievous streak—maybe she had some secret free-spirited heritage in her.
Before long, all of Jūshirō Ukitake’s persimmon cakes were devoured by the 11th Division members. Kaelith saved the last few pieces, planning to take them to Aizen’s lab later—Aizen was busy with experiments in Rukongai today.
After greeting his squadmates, Kaelith departed, Shunpoing across the Seireitei. Partway there, light snow started to fall. The cool flakes on his face reminded him of when he’d found Rangiku all those winters ago. If he hadn’t come across her in that snowy moment, what would have happened?
Most likely, Aizen would’ve found her soon enough and drained her spiritual energy, leaving her helpless.
That man really had no scruples, Kaelith reflected. Even if little Rangiku wasn’t yet the jaw-dropping beauty she’d one day be, she was still an adorable youngster—someone you’d think anyone would want to protect. And yet, Aizen just drained her Reiryoku and carried on without a second thought. Maybe the guy’s taste was just way off.
As Kaelith continued forward in silent steps, a sudden thought occurred to him: Aizen had never shown any interest in the opposite sex, or even in romance.
Even Dio, who saw humans as walking bread, ended up fathering a few children. Surely Aizen wouldn’t view everyone else as mere bread, would he? Didn’t he ever want a family or a partner?
Maybe Kisuke Urahara…?
…
Hearing Kaelith’s question, Aizen turned and gave him a pitying look.
“You’re still caught in the mindset of ordinary mortals. Physical pleasures mean nothing to me. Rather than waste time finding a woman and establishing a pointless home, I’d rather spend that time thinking—reading.”
He took one of the leftover persimmon cakes from Kaelith’s paper bag, calmly biting into it.
Kaelith let out a pained sigh.
If everyone were like you, how would the country—er, the Soul Society—carry on?
Then he remembered how the Soul Society had a steady supply of souls from the living world, so maybe it wasn’t a problem.
Aizen finished his cake and wiped his hands.
“Let’s get going.”
“Huh? Going where?” Kaelith asked, confused.
“Rukongai.”
Still answering Kaelith, Aizen keyed in a combination on a secure storage unit and pulled out a gleaming, gem-like object. Seeing it, Kaelith stepped closer curiously.
Ever since they had conquered Las Noches years ago and founded a new regime in Hueco Mundo, Aizen’s research progress had skyrocketed. The Hōgyoku Project—formerly an empty “new folder”—was more than halfway complete now.
“Today, we’re scouting for souls with a talent for spiritual power. I’ve already identified the targets—let’s go.”
Taking the Hōgyoku and Kaelith along, Aizen left the lab and headed toward the sixtieth district of Rukongai. After a short walk through shallow snow, they arrived at a small hamlet where a narrow stream provided a modest but sufficient flow of spiritual particles.
Aizen’s aim was a burly man with a hairy chest—apparently the only one in the village who needed to eat real food, a sure sign of some spiritual potential.
This fellow lorded his ability over the others; he was always the one doing the bullying, never the victim. He couldn’t have imagined he’d be taken down today.
Just as the man finished drinking from the stream and was preparing to head home for a nap, he found himself paralyzed by Aizen’s suffocating Reiatsu. Struggling even to speak, he watched helplessly as the stranger pressed a jewel against his forehead.
!!!
The instant the gem touched his skin, a terrifying force surged through his body. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound emerged.
A thick, milky-white fluid began oozing from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Like spider silk, it hardened on contact with air, slowly forming a bone-like layer across his entire face.
Only then did the brute manage to produce a howl—yet it wasn’t a human cry. It was a beastly roar, layered with multiple discordant echoes, that reverberated with surging Reiatsu.
He tried rampaging several meters, but all was futilely contained by a spiritual barrier Kaelith raised. Aizen, standing to the side with a folder, recorded data at high speed, the pen flickering over pages. As the man’s mask solidified, Aizen’s excitement was clear. Occasionally pausing to reposition instruments, he kept detailed notes.
Waiting for a moment when Aizen wasn’t too busy, Kaelith sidled over.
“Think it’s working this time?”
“Hardly so simple,” Aizen said, shaking his head.
True to his words, the hapless man soon began to disintegrate—one moment standing in place, the next scattering into fragments of Reishi in the air. His worn bathrobe fell to the ground in a heap. Kaelith watched, somewhat regretful.
“That was close.”
But Aizen maintained his composure. “It’s normal. Most Hollowfication experiments fail at precisely this phase. Our next step is simply testing different levels of spiritual aptitude, logging each outcome, then tweaking the Hōgyoku’s output accordingly.”
“Let’s move on to the next target,” he said.
Over the next two hours, Kaelith saw seven more Hollowfication attempts, each ending in the subject’s soul shattering. Once Aizen finished that round of note-taking, he compared the data. Roughly ten minutes later, he turned to Kaelith.
“That’s enough for now. All these subjects were roughly the same power. Running more tests at this tier won’t yield new results.”
Leaning against a tree, Kaelith had nearly dozed off. He perked up instantly, wearing a grin as he approached.
Amused, Aizen commented:
“If you find this so boring, don’t bother coming next time. Experiments in the field sound intriguing, but they’re really just mechanical drudgery. With your personality, I doubt you’d cope well.”
Kaelith nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty tedious, but I want to come at least once in a while. You might not mind killing people, but I don’t like the idea of you doing it alone. Letting my friend do all the dirty work while I hide in the background isn’t my style.”
Stretching, he shot a bright smile. “We’re done, so let’s head back and eat. I am starving!”
Aizen blinked before giving a faint laugh. Killing was no burden to him.
If anything, going out of his way to target the wicked and criminal souls—just to spare Kaelith’s conscience—was the real hassle. But strangely enough, hearing Kaelith’s casual declaration improved his mood.
Maybe it was just entertaining to see him playing the fool.
He stashed the folder, ready to return. Suddenly, Kaelith halted in place, scanning his surroundings.
Then he walked off in a particular direction. Aizen, puzzled, followed suit. Extending his senses, he, too, showed mild surprise.
Kaelith strode through the snow until he reached a large tree. Brushing aside some frosty branches, he uncovered a small hollow in the trunk. Inside it lay a short-haired boy, fast asleep, hair a silvery-white.
His complexion was so pale, it almost looked unhealthy. His tattered robe appeared old but not dirty.
Gazing at the snoozing boy, Kaelith’s mind latched onto one word: hibernation—like a coiled snake lying in its den through winter. It was a strange metaphor, but it fit the initial impression.
Suddenly, Kaelith let out a small exclamation.
A silver-haired boy, serpent-like aura… So this was the Gin Ichimaru he’d searched so long for.
Aizen came closer, observing the sleeping figure. He gauged the boy’s Reiatsu. Adjusting his glasses, he said, “He’s got spiritual power—fairly high level, too. And by the look of him, he hasn’t eaten in a while. But even in a starving state, his Reiatsu’s still stable… This child has talent.”
Indeed, Kaelith thought. In canon, Gin was prodigiously gifted—the kind of genius who could’ve survived even Aizen’s Hōgyoku transformations.
Kaelith rummaged through his sleeve, retrieving the last two persimmon cakes. He held one out toward the boy’s face. The aroma coaxed the boy into opening his eyes. He blinked in confusion, spotting the food first, then shifted his gaze to Kaelith and Aizen.
Alarmed, the boy’s pupils shrank; he bolted out of the tree hollow and rolled across the snow, defensive. Kaelith raised the cake, smiling:
“No need to be afraid. I’m not a bad guy—look, I’ve got something tasty for you.”
Aizen: “…”
If Kaelith wasn’t a “bad guy,” then maybe no one in the world qualified.
In a split second, the silver-haired boy decided he couldn’t take on these two. He tried to run, but before his foot even landed, he was shocked to find himself floating in midair. Spinning around, he saw Kaelith standing there, hand outstretched. With a pull, Kaelith drew him back as though carrying him on an invisible string.
Smack.
Kaelith grabbed the boy by his collar, and within a heartbeat, Gin realized escape was impossible. Seeking an opening, he asked:
“What…what was that ability?”
“You mean that little trick I used just now?” Kaelith tilted his chin up smugly. “That’s the famed ‘Dragon-Grip’—still a beginner’s stage, pardon my lack of refinement.”
Gin mulled over feigning a polite compliment on the technique in hopes of softening Kaelith up. But Kaelith’s response made no sense to him: “Dragon-Grip?” What on earth was that?
While Gin was caught off-guard, Aizen spoke up. “So, what do we do with him? If you don’t want him, I could take him back for experiments.”
Gin’s heart nearly stopped. So this was the worst-case scenario—he’d end up a lab rat?
But Kaelith shook his head. “No, I’ll take him. End of story.”
Aizen wasn’t surprised. Under Kaelith’s leadership, the 11th Division had become legendary for nurturing talent, many from unfortunate backgrounds—numerous noble houses tried sending their kids there.
Yet Kaelith himself personally oversaw only a chosen few. Glancing at this white-haired kid, Aizen acknowledged he’d likely struck gold.
With Kaelith’s guidance and his inherent gifts, at minimum he’d reach lieutenant-level. Perhaps even captain.
Meanwhile, Kaelith had already coaxed Gin into eating the persimmon cake. Once the boy had a bite, he gave his name—Ichimaru Gin. He looked around eleven or twelve in human terms, but years of living on the streets had sharpened his instincts.
He quickly recognized these two wore Shihakushō and could crush him without effort. The bespectacled one was particularly terrifying, gazing at him like a lifeless tool.
However, the seemingly more suspicious man—the one with the kind smile—actually possessed a kinder heart. Accepting his food and forging a friendly connection seemed the safest path.
When Kaelith proposed taking him back, Gin promptly agreed. Watching how cooperative he was, Kaelith felt a bit nostalgic. He had picked up many strays, but none so docile from the start—certain people with green hats could have learned a thing or two…
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No Urahara was harmed in this chapter.
