Aizen's schemes were never one-dimensional. Every plan was built to extract maximum yield from minimum effort. This time was no different.
But unlike his prior flawless victories, this operation—while its side objectives executed flawlessly—had failed at the core goal: stripping the Shiba Clan of its status as one of the Four Great Noble Houses. His ultimate aim: to crush Shiba Kūkaku's identity, socially and politically.
But that failed.
Why?
Because Aizen had overlooked someone: Shiba Isshin. A disregarded member of the cadet branch, who, against all odds, had rallied the main forces of the branch family and led them to the front lines—personally fighting off the horde of invading Menos.
This act not only shielded the Shiba Clan from the Arrancar purge Aizen had set up, it also earned them the sympathy of many neutral noble houses.
If it weren't for the political reality that Higashi Shuuichi, the current Blade Hunter Chief, was affiliated with the Kamiyada Clan, then most nobles could admit—only the Shiba Clan had shown the kind of duty and strength worthy of a true noble house.
Even if Shuuichi stole the spotlight, Kamiyada's scheme to oust the Shiba had all but collapsed.
Especially now that the Shiba Clan's core line survived—Kūkaku, Ganju, and Kaien were all alive—and the cadet branch still retained significant martial power. In particular, Isshin had unlocked his Bankai during the battle and was named the new Captain of Squad Ten, alongside Byakuya Kuchiki becoming the new Captain of Squad Six.
These appointments crushed Kamiyada's plan to politically marginalize the Shiba.
Isshin wasn't some old relic like the previous clan head. He was young, powerful, and now a captain. With Kaien also showing terrifying potential, it was all but guaranteed that the Shiba Clan's position would remain untouchable for centuries.
Whenever Kamiyada thought back to it, he regretted that Higashi Shuuichi had slain Barragan too quickly. If only he'd waited a little longer, let more of the Shiba die… wouldn't that have been better?
But of course, he kept that opinion to himself. He'd never say something so divisive to Shuuichi directly. They weren't on those terms.
This was a headache for Aizen, too.
If the Shiba had fallen, Shuuichi could've approached Kūkaku under the pretense of sympathy and extracted the technological data they sought.
But Kūkaku as a noble? Entirely different story.
Even someone like Aizen knew—persuading a fallen commoner Kūkaku was leagues easier than convincing a proud noble.
Shuuichi couldn't help but complain about Aizen's logic.
The man had a legitimate ticket to the Soul King Palace, yet stubbornly refused to use it—insisting instead on forging his own back-alley entrance.
Still, Aizen never committed to a plan without backups.
He'd expected major casualties in Soul Society during the invasion, so to mitigate potential retaliation, he sacrificed several of his pawns in Hueco Mundo, handing them over to the Gotei 13 as offerings.
On paper, Hueco Mundo's losses looked far more severe.
So much so that, when Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryūsai read the final report from the 12th Division, he remained silent for a long time.
Because unless he was prepared to personally massacre civilians in Rukongai, he couldn't retaliate further. Any large-scale purge would shatter the balance between the worlds.
And that created yet another problem—this time for Kamiyada Tokitan.
Soul Society now fully understood the Arrancar threat. But for the foreseeable future, they would maintain strategic withdrawal, trying to reestablish equilibrium.
Which meant: no more excuses to let Shuuichi officially approach Hueco Mundo. His plans to recruit Arrancar under any Gotei-sanctioned guise were now dead in the water.
And so, ironically, while Aizen claimed this entire event was a spur-of-the-moment lark—Shuuichi now realized:
He was the one who gained the most.
He earned prestige, secured influence, stole hearts, and his spiritual pressure skyrocketed.
In short:
he fing won*.
But every winner leaves someone behind.
In the 4th Division's Vice-Captain lounge, Yamada Seinosuke sat listening to squad members excitedly discuss Shuuichi's heroics.
His face soured.
It had been days. Why were they still obsessed with Shuuichi?
So he killed a king of Hueco Mundo. So he used to be the 4th Division Vice-Captain.
Did they really have to praise him right in front of the current one?
Not that they were doing it openly. But Seinosuke could hear the subtext. And it stung.
He used to blame it on Captain Unohana's bias—how her gaze always, even subtly, drifted to Shuuichi whenever he was near.
Yes, he was jealous.
But now?
Now he realized—it wasn't even about Unohana anymore.
He hated hearing Shuuichi praised, period.
Same position. Same title. Yet the comparison was constant, suffocating.
And if he was honest… besides Kaidō, he didn't surpass Shuuichi in anything.
It gnawed at him.
The Vice-Captain's seat felt like it belonged to Shuuichi. Like his ghost still sat there, grinning smugly, every day.
Even now—years after Shuuichi's departure.
And then Seinosuke noticed something else.
Since Shuuichi's public return, Unohana had visited her private training grounds more often.
Longer sessions. No signs of combat. Almost like… she was waiting.
He knew what name hovered in his thoughts.
But he didn't dare say it aloud.
"Why?" Seinosuke whispered, staring at the sealed folders spread on the desk. "Why is it always Shuuichi?"
He had a feeling the answers might lie inside.
They were records—kept, preserved, and annotated by Unohana herself.
Only the destruction of the 4th Division's facilities during the Hollow attack had brought them to light. With Unohana away, Seinosuke had found them amid the rubble.
He hadn't intended to keep them.
But when he saw Shuuichi's name written in Unohana's hand—again and again—he caved.
He stole them.
Why would Unohana preserve these files? What had Shuuichi done to warrant it?
He opened the first one with trembling fingers.
…Nothing spectacular. A century-old report on Soul Reaper deaths. Some Hollows hadn't devoured their prey—instead, they used some primitive extraction to rip out core spiritual energy, leaving their victims to die from depletion.
Back then, Shuuichi had just been a low-ranking medic. Seinosuke was already a Seated Officer.
So what did this have to do with him?
He opened the second.
Similar. Another investigation into wounded Soul Reapers—this time, recently treated by the 4th Division. And again, strange spiritual depletion. Unlike before, these victims survived—and the amount taken was precisely measured.
So precise it felt designed.
Still no mention of Shuuichi.
But from the dates… Seinosuke realized Shuuichi had already become Vice-Captain by then.
Still, what did that prove?
Then he opened the third file.
Finally—Shuuichi's name appeared.
A special investigation, commissioned by Unohana, and conducted by Ōetsu Nimaiya, then-Captain of the 12th.
Subject: a Soul Reaper treated by Shuuichi.
Symptoms?
Same as before.
But the file stopped there.
There was no conclusion.
Seinosuke turned the page—
Nothing.
Just three files.
"There should be more…"
Frustration boiled. Why hadn't he searched better in the ruins? There had to be more records.
Now he felt like a reader stuck on the final chapter of a novel—cut off at the climax.
He couldn't go back to Unohana's office. That would be admitting… too much.
All he could do now was reconstruct the truth.
Three records. All tagged with Shuuichi's name.
All centered on the same mystery.
The same hidden phenomenon.
But what was Shuuichi's role?
The culprit?
No—impossible.
If he were the perpetrator, Unohana would never have protected him.
Then why?
Then it clicked.
Shuuichi had been Unohana's secret agent.
She had discovered the abnormality. And she had trusted him—not the 12th Division—to investigate.
He wasn't some traitor.
He had been doing Soul Society's dirty work, in silence.
And perhaps—when he failed, when he couldn't find the truth—Unohana finally allowed Seinosuke to challenge him for the Vice-Captain's post.
She had given him the position because Shuuichi had failed.
He didn't deserve it. But he'd earned it by default.
And when he, too, proved unworthy—Unohana returned the title to its rightful owner.
Every act, every choice—now made sense.
Shuuichi was never a criminal. Never a traitor.
He was Soul Society's hidden blade.
And when he stood to protect it from Barragan—he was simply continuing that silent duty.
Seinosuke stared at the records.
But he said nothing.
No revelations. No confessions.
Instead, he whispered, voice tight with resolve:
"If Shuuichi can do it… so can I."
That brute who couldn't even master fine Kaidō—what made him special? His failure was inevitable.
But Seinosuke…
Seinosuke would succeed.
He would surpass him. Outdo him.
Replace him.