"Anything different since becoming Head Captain?"
"Not particularly... I guess I'm just way busier than before."
"Well, all the administrative duties for the Thirteen Divisions fall on you now. Just imagining that is exhausting."
"Haha, it's not so bad. I've streamlined a lot. Plus, with the reconstruction of Seireitei, I took the opportunity to tie up a lot of loose ends."
"So I helped more than I realized?"
"You're a lifesaver, you know."
"Still as slippery as ever... Be careful or it might rub off on your subordinates."
"That's not happening~ Nanao-chan's rock solid. She handles all the internal affairs just fine."
"Really? Even that cool-headed, soft-hearted Nanao-senpai has matured that much?"
"Everyone has to move forward eventually. Don't go thinking you're irreplaceable—overinflated egos only lead to hard crashes."
"...Oof. That actually hurt."
"Eh? Really? Ahaha, sorry, maybe that was a bit much~"
"Who apologizes while laughing? Are you even sorry?"
They sat at the edge of the white tower, gazing into the distance. Their expressions softened with quiet reflection.
Kyōraku Shunsui scratched his cheek.
"I honestly can't remember the last time I relaxed like this..."
Seiya rubbed his nose and sneezed.
"Responsibilities only pile up, especially for a big shot like the Head Captain."
The slouching gentleman let out a hum, tilting his head.
"Wow, that was... surprisingly profound."
Seiya tightened his thin robe, grinning faintly.
"I've lived over a hundred years. If I hadn't figured something out by now, that'd be pretty pathetic."
Kyōraku turned to him.
"You sure you don't want to throw on another layer?"
Seiya shook his head immediately.
"Nah. Can't even remember the last time I got sick. While I'm still alive, I want to feel every bit of it."
The mood grew heavy.
Kyōraku, now the Head Captain, hesitated before broaching an old subject once more.
"You really aren't going to change your mind?"
Seiya sniffled and blinked.
"About what, exactly?"
"Don't play dumb… about the execution."
Kyōraku ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
"I know everything about the Wandenreich now. I've also spoken to old man Yama about it."
"Aside from some younger, more impulsive folks, everyone else understands our current situation."
"Sure, the idea of the dead coming back for round two sounds absurd..."
But this is the Soul Society.
"A postmortem civilization this massive already defies logic."
He sighed again, eyes drifting across the tower-top view.
"Even though many are still skeptical, we're strong enough now to make the necessary arrangements."
"In other words, clearing your name isn't hard at all."
Seiya scratched his cheek and offered a soft smile.
"Is that so? Guess people are more forgiving than I thought..."
Kyōraku's gaze filled with helplessness.
"Your case isn't like Sōsuke Aizen's. Fundamentally, your methods were flawed—but your intent wasn't betrayal."
"Ha… so the Head Captain's good with pretty words too?"
"Rude~ I've always been charming. Saying this much is no trouble for me."
Kyōraku continued after a pause.
"Even old man Yama agrees with this viewpoint."
That surprised Seiya.
For the stubborn old man who died for his ideals to agree... it was almost hard to believe.
"We might be proud fools—but we're not heartless. We've seen everything you've done. None of it was meaningless."
"So… try trusting us a little. Don't assume the worst, okay?"
"So—can I hear your answer again?"
It was clear Kyōraku was hoping for a change.
But before Seiya could reply, Kyōraku spoke again, as if talking to himself.
"Guys like us… we're kinda pathetic."
"We keep losing things, whether we want to or not. Then, before we know it..."
"All the companions who walked with us are gone—watching from the audience instead."
Kyōraku loved theater. So now, his words took on an earnest, pleading tone.
"Won't you stay on stage a little longer with me, Seiya?"
Seiya didn't respond right away. He eventually laughed, a bit reluctantly.
He did feel a pang of softness.
But he couldn't allow it.
Stopping now meant compromising the preparations to fight Yhwach. That took priority over any personal bond.
By now, Kinnara—entrusted to Urahara—should be fully formed.
Severing the past was essential. Otherwise, The Almighty would trace back to his origin and undo everything.
Only one piece of the puzzle remained.
Seiya had to complete it himself.
So his answer remained unchanged.
"Head Captain, this solo act belongs to you. And besides, that's a stage people would kill to stand on."
In another timeline, another world…
Maybe Seiya could've stood under that spotlight too.
But not now.
He stood up slowly.
"Kyōraku-taichō, I have a favor. It's nothing major, so don't worry if you can't do it."
He whispered a few words.
Then patted Kyōraku on the back, balling his hand into a fist and tapping his shoulder lightly.
"Captain Kyōraku, someone needs to shoulder the blame. That'll keep the Central 46 off your back."
"Besides… my time on Soul Society's stage is over."
"I'll head back to the audience and cheer for your act."
With that, he turned and walked away.
Kyōraku could only gaze into the distant sky, not even noticing his straw hat blowing off.
"Geez… such high expectations are stressful..."
After all, a solo act...
Demands true talent.
——
As the execution neared.
Under the Head Captain's order, the white tower was sealed—no visitors allowed.
Ironically, this made many who initially supported execution begin to waver.
Maybe there was a gentler way?
Petitions, personal letters, even group protests…
All landed on Kyōraku's desk.
Some even came from captains.
But Kyōraku, as if resolved, rejected them all and publicly scolded some in the next meeting.
This tension paralyzed the Gotei 13.
Time passed—and the day came.
Clad in white, hands bound in chains, Seiya walked with staggered steps.
Escorted by the Thirteen Divisions, he ascended the execution platform.
It was bare to the extreme, flanked only by two masked executioners.
They muttered apologies and began securing the rope.
He was hoisted high, suspended from the top of the mast.
Eyes narrowing, Seiya exhaled softly.
So this was the end of a life?
Memories surged forth, filling the void in his heart.
There were regrets—so many.
He could've led a more brilliant life. Continued shining on the stage called the Three Realms.
But that was just a mirage.
Yhwach would destroy everything beautiful.
As cold wind from Soul Society blew across him, Seiya looked out across the land he'd lived in for over a century.
Any final words?
He searched his soul, but nothing came.
Maybe this wasn't a final farewell.
Maybe… a temporary goodbye?
"See you later, everyone."
Until not too far in the future.
He smiled faintly—and closed his eyes.
Snap.
The rope snapped tight.
His body jerked—and broke under the force.
A signal of death spread to everyone.
That night—
Yamamoto Genryūsai coughed blood. From then on, he remained reclusive.
The Kuchiki residence went into three months of mourning. Though unspoken, it was clearly in honor of the departed.
The 4th Division wore white bands. The 5th halted all activity.
Members across divisions fell ill—declaring "mysterious illnesses."
The Gotei 13 ground to a halt.
Only after a long while did recovery begin.
——
Within the 12th Division.
"Nemū? Nemū?"
Bam!
Mayuri burst in like a nosy parent, looking around.
"Hmph, out again? Without telling me? That brat..."
Then he noticed a jar on the table.
He knew that jar well.
It was the beginning of Nemū's awakening—her unique spark.
Her misunderstanding of Seiya had left quite the impression.
But now—
It didn't contain hair anymore.
Inside bloomed a flower.
A childish wish—silly, once. Not anymore.
"Planting again, huh..."
Mayuri muttered.
Nemū had zero gardening skills. Nothing she planted ever lived.
He'd grown used to it—thought of it as a harmless flaw.
But today... a miracle.
The flower bloomed.
"..."
He stepped forward.
Though no botanist, even he recognized it:
A sunflower.
Mayuri stared silently—then turned away, muttering like a father.
"A decent improvement."
"But something like this..."
"Should be left in the sun, don't you think?"
——
Elsewhere.
Inside the Ishida estate.
Ryūken and Uryū stood with stern expressions.
"These are the basic warnings about the Wandenreich. We've never been, so..."
"You'll have to rely on this book. The rest, you'll have to uncover yourself."
The man standing before them—
Named "Seiya Arima"—accepted the token of the Wandenreich.
"This is enough."
"Thanks for your help."
"As for what's next… leave it to me."
Withered flowers.
New branches budding.
Seiya stepped boldly toward his solo performance.
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Powerstones?
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