Here for You

Right after Renji fell, atop the tower of the Fourth Depth Prisons.

The afternoon sun slanted down through the windowpanes at the top of the tower, carving out interlocking lines of light and shadow on the ground. Rukia knelt in the center of the stone chamber, her white Sin Robes draped over her body, her wrists and ankles handcuffed with Reiatsu Seals. Two Onmitsukidō guards stood behind her, their Zanpakuto hanging at their waists, their faces expressionless.

Rukia her face to one side, her gaze passing through the narrow window towards the direction of Sōkyoku. The wind blew through the tower, making a faint whistling sound against the stone walls. She would soon be taken to that execution ground.

Suddenly, she could sense something disappearing in the direction of the entrance to the Fourth Depth Prisons —it was Renji's Reiatsu!

From the day she entered the Fourth Depth Prison, that Reiatsu was like a lamp that refused to be extinguished, always hanging in a corner of the Senzaikyū, sometimes bright and sometimes dim, but never completely gone.

And now, it is weakening, and life is draining from that red-haired man's body.

"Renji." Her lips moved, her voice so soft only she could hear, "Why... why would you..."

She didn't finish her sentence because she knew the answer. He had always been this kind of person—pulling her out of the mud of Rukongai, standing in the rain to see her off when she was taken away by the Kuchiki Clan, and never giving up on her after she was sentenced to death. He was always like this, always had been.

Footsteps came from behind, unlike the sound of the jailer's straw sandals rubbing against the stone slabs. They were lighter and more casual, making almost no sound as they stepped on the stone, as if the person walking on them had long been accustomed to being unnoticed.

"Good morning~" The voice floated from behind her, light and airy, with a drawn-out tone, "How are you feeling today, Rukia?"

Rukia turned her head. Gin Ichimaru stood at the entrance of the stone chamber, his hands tucked into his sleeves, a smile on his lips that was forever unfathomable.

"Ichimaru... Gin!"

"No way~" Yin tilted her head, her eyes narrowing into slits, "You're still as rude as ever."

Rukia's fingers tightened slightly inside her sleeve. She took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was calm. "Excuse me, Ichimaru... Captain."

"You actually took it seriously?" Yin pulled her hand out of her sleeve and waved it casually. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you. I was just joking."

Rukia looked at Gin, her brows furrowing slightly. She had known Gin Ichimaru for many years. When she first joined the Gotei 13 as a regular soldier, Gin Ichimaru had just become the captain of the Third Division.

In her memory, this person always had that smiling face, spoke in a light, airy way, and made it impossible to guess what he was thinking. That smiling expression combined with his demeanor gave her an inexplicable chill.

But Gin was different today; Rukia sensed that something more fundamental, hidden beneath his smile, had changed.

The cold glint of those perpetually squinting eyes was gone, replaced by something almost gentle yet tinged with helplessness. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she was certain she'd never seen it in this person before.

"Why... is Captain Ichimaru here?" she asked.

"Nothing much, just taking a walk to clear my head." Yin walked to the window, turned his back to her, and looked up at the clouds outside, which were dyed golden by the sunlight. "The weather's nice today. It's such a waste to choose such good weather for the execution."

Rukia didn't speak. Gin turned around, leaned against the windowsill, and tilted his head to look at her. He noticed her eyes—there was no anger, no fear, not even resentment in those pupils. There was only an almost transparent calmness, like someone who had already accepted all the answers.

Gin's brow twitched slightly. He remembered a long time ago, when he was still in Rukongai, he had seen a stray cat tied up with a rope by children. The cat didn't struggle or hiss; it just quietly curled up in a corner, its eyes wide open, staring ahead.

The children thought it was tamed, so they untied the rope and tried to let it go, but it wouldn't move. The cat wasn't tamed; it had simply given up. It no longer believed it could leave that corner.

The current Rukia is exactly like that cat; a person determined to die is difficult to save. Regardless of whether Ichigo has mastered Bankai, regardless of how much blood Renji shed in front of the Senzaikyū, regardless of how many resources Marechiyo Ōmaeda mobilized from the Stealth Forces —if Rukia herself does not want to live, all of their efforts will be shattered in the face of her will to die.

Silver pulled his hand out of his sleeve, turned his head, and looked past the window towards the direction of the Senzaikyū Square.

That direction is far away; from here, all you can see are the broken stone slabs at the edge of the square and scattered bloodstains.

"Oh, right," his voice was still very soft, as if he were talking about a trivial matter he had just remembered, "He doesn't seem to be dead, Abarai."

Rukia's body trembled slightly.

"The Reiatsu hasn't completely dissipated yet." Yin turned his head, squinting at her. "It's very weak, though. But at this rate, it probably won't last much longer. It's pitiful; I just said I was coming to save you, and now I've collapsed first."

"Don't talk nonsense!" Rukia's voice suddenly rose, and for the first time, a flame of anger ignited in her pupils. Her fingers gripped the fabric on her knees tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Yin turned around to face her. He took a few steps forward, squatted down in front of her, and looked her in the eye.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Afraid of... what?"

"You don't want them to die, do you? Abarai, and the others." Gin tilted his head, his voice low. "That Ryoka monster, Ichigo Kurosaki. He won't just obediently go back because you've been sentenced to death. He'll definitely come to Sōkyoku Hill. And that Quincy, that girl, that big guy—they'll all come. How long do you think they can survive on the execution platform with their strength?"

Rukia didn't speak, but her lips were trembling.

"You didn't suddenly become afraid of death just because you don't want them to die, did you?" Yin looked at her, the curve of his lips unchanged, but the flippancy in his voice was gone. He paused, as if thinking of something amusing, then asked, "Do you want me to save you?"

A moment of silence fell over the stone chamber. The two Onmitsukidō simultaneously looked up, their expressions shifting from indifference to shock. Gin remained crouched in front of Rukia, tilting his head as if asking her what she wanted to eat that day.

"How about it? If you want, I can get you out of here right now." He spread his hands, palms up, his voice as casual as if he were talking about the weather. "You, Abarai, and the others—everyone can be saved."

Rukia looked at his outstretched palms. His hands were thin, with distinct knuckles, and the bluish veins beneath the skin were faintly visible. She didn't trust this man. From the first day she joined the Gotei 13, everyone had told her not to trust Gin Ichimaru. No one knew what was hidden behind that smiling face.

But now, those open palms were right in front of her, without any concealment. She looked in the direction where Renji had fallen, feeling the Reiatsu slowly fading away.

She remembered Ichigo carrying Zangetsu and rushing towards her, the orange-haired boy's eyes when he said, "I will definitely save you," and Ishida, Inoue, and Chad. She didn't want them to die.

Silver saw a fleeting hesitation in those pupils before they lit up again, like a small flame reigniting in a smoldering pile of firewood.

Seeing this, Yin felt relieved; this was enough.

He reached out and gently patted Rukia on the head. The movement was very light. "Just kidding, saving you isn't that simple."

He stood up, brushed off non-existent dust from his clothes, and walked towards the door. "Bye-bye~ Rukia, see you in the Sōkyoku."

Rukia knelt on the spot, watching Gin's figure disappear at the end of the corridor, her fingers still clutching the fabric on her knees.

"Bastard..." Her voice trembled, but she enunciated each word firmly, "You bastard--!"

Her hard-won resolve to die was shattered by Yin's meddling.

At the same time, deep within Seireitei, on the only path leading to the Sōkyoku Hill...

Kenpachi Zaraki suddenly stopped.

He stood in the center of an open space, the glaring afternoon sun pouring down on him, casting a dark shadow at his feet. Yachiru leaned on his shoulder, tightening her grip on his hair slightly.

The Stealth Force, black-clad team members, walking at the front, stopped immediately upon noticing the silence behind them and turned around. "Captain Zaraki, what's wrong?"

Kenpachi didn't answer. He stood there, his single eye slightly narrowed, and his nostrils twitched as if he had caught a whiff of something in the air.

Yachiru peeked half her head out from his shoulder, her eyes sparkling, her voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of wariness. "Ken, there's a strange smell."

Yumichika walked over to Kenpachi and said, "Captain, there's someone here."

"Yeah..." Kenpachi's voice rolled out from deep in his throat, like rusty iron scraping against each other, "Sneaking around like that, how shameless."

Ikkaku placed his hand on the hilt of Hōzukimaru, while Yumichika's fingers gently stroked the scabbard of Fuji Kujaku. Both of their Reiatsu increased slightly in unison.

They are the Seated Officer of the 11th Division, and after following Kenpachi Zaraki through Soul Society for so many years, their sense of combat is sharper than anyone else's.

Kenpachi's Reiatsu exploded, a golden, flamboyant, and completely unreasonable Reiatsu surging out of his body like a volcanic eruption, causing the stone slabs beneath his feet to crack in all directions with him as the center.

He lowered the Zanpakuto from his shoulder, its tip digging into the ground, deepening the cracks. "Come out. Hiding your Reiatsu is not how a captain should behave."

At the other end of the field, the air distorted slightly. A figure slowly emerged from nothing, as if walking out of some unseen fold. It was the white Captain's Haori, the black hair braided into thin plaits, and the eyes that were always hidden by an eyepatch, never able to see any light.

"Captain Kaname Tōsen of the Captain of the Ninth Division!?"

The Stealth Force's voice was low, but his pupils were already constricted.

"According to the intelligence, Captain Tōsen should be on his way to Sōkyoku Hill with Lieutenant Sasaki. This intelligence was from three minutes ago, how could they be here?" He gripped the note in his sleeve, recalling the words Marechiyo Ōmaeda repeatedly emphasized:

"Don't assume intelligence is omnipotent; the enemy possesses interference capabilities beyond your imagination."

Kenpachi tilted his head, the bells in his hair jingling. "Did you hear that, Tōsen? Shouldn't you be on your way to Sōkyoku? Why did you detour here?"

His tone lacked the coldness of an interrogation; instead, it carried the excitement of a hunter discovering his prey.

"Zaraki." Kaname Tōsen's voice was extremely cold, revealing his instinctive disgust for Kenpachi.

"After losing to the Ryoka, how dare you still be so arrogant?" He turned his head, his face hidden by the eyepatch facing the Stealth Force. "Also, since when did the Stealth Force start monitoring the captain's movements at all times?"

When Tōsen's Reiatsu pressed down, it wasn't the overbearing, instinctive pressure of Kenpachi's, but rather a more sinister, binding feeling, like being silently entangled by something.

The Stealth Force's shoulders slumped an inch, his knees began to buckle, but he gritted his teeth and held on.

Ikkaku stepped forward, blocking the team member's path. Hōzukimaru wasn't even drawn yet, but his Reiatsu was already palpable. "What's going on, Captain Tōsen? It's just a matter of movement. If we don't have any bad intentions, what's the harm in letting them investigate?"

"Is that even a question?" Yumichika stood to the Ikkaku and slightly behind, his fingertips slowly tracing the hilt of Fuji Kujaku's sword. "It's definitely because he has ulterior motives that he reacted so strongly."

Furthermore, they deliberately misled the Stealth Force spies; this seems like a serious problem.

Tōsen frowned slightly, then turned to the team member, his voice filled with undisguised disgust. "Stealth Force is nothing more than a tool used by corrupt nobles to maintain their rule. I have no obligation to provide information about my movements to such an organization."

His hand rested on the hilt of the knife, and he flashed forward.

The next second he appeared behind the three, his Zanpakuto already drawn, the blade aimed straight for the back of the Stealth Force's neck. "The Stealth Force, a tool used for internal strife, should never have existed!"

Clang!

Kenpachi had appeared in front of Tōsen without anyone noticing. The moment their swords clashed, sparks illuminated the extremely narrow space between them.

"Hey, Tōsen."

Kenpachi's voice was low, each word raspy and metallic, "You always talk about justice, but when it comes to fighting, you just pick on the weakest? Is this your kind of justice?"

Tōsen's face was only an inch away from Kenpachi.

"How could a madman like you understand the true meaning of justice?"

Kenpachi laughed, revealing the heartfelt, savage grin of a hunter finally finding prey worth killing. "Then show me your so-called justice with your sword!"

With a flick of his wrist, he deflected Tōsen's sword. The force traveled along the blade, pushing Tōsen back two steps.

"You guys go first." Kenpachi didn't turn around, his one eye still fixed on Tōsen. "I'll catch up soon."

"But my mission is—" Before the team member could finish speaking, his collar was grabbed by the Ikkaku hand.

Ikkaku dragged the team member backward, his steps quick. "You're taking Captain Zaraki to Sōkyoku Hill? That means an even bigger battle will break out there, won't it?"

The teammate didn't answer. Ikkaku his silence, Ichigo grinned, a smile inherited from Kenpachi battles, reflecting both anticipation for combat and absolute trust in their captain.

"Before that, we need to filter out any enemies who are unworthy to fight the captain. Alright, let's go!"

Meanwhile, at the other end of Seireitei, another encounter is taking place.

Hanatarō squatted behind the stone wall, clutching the bulging medicine bag tightly in his arms, his hands trembling.

Chad stood before him, the Giant's Right Arm emerging from his shoulder, black and red stripes spreading along his forearm, his thick fist gleaming coldly in the afternoon light. Ganju leaned against the wall, clutching the strap of his equipment bag, his eyes beneath his headscarf warily fixed on what lay ahead.

Sajin Komamura stood at the other end of the alley, his tall figure almost blocking out half the sky in the narrow alley. His helmet covered his face, and the Captain's Haori draped behind him fluttered slightly in the wind.

Tetsuzaemon Iba stood beside him, his right hand on the hilt of his sword, his brows furrowed.

"Why is this Ryoka should have been captured here?" Komamura's voice came from under his helmet, deep and authoritative.

The Stealth Force leading the group of Chad stood at the front, his back soaked with cold sweat.

He looked down at the task handbook in his hand, then glanced at the comparison handbook that Marechiyo Ōmaeda had left him, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The route has been altered! I unknowingly strayed from the route given by Marechiyo Ōmaeda -Lieutenant Ōmaeda. Someone has subtly replaced my perception, causing me to unwittingly lead my group of Ryoka to the presence of a captain...

Komamura took a step forward, and with just that one step, the heavy Reiatsu caused the stone floor to crack slightly.

His gaze swept over each of the Ryoka, finally settling on the team member. His voice was so deep it seemed to come from underground. "This outfit... are you from the Stealth Force? Why did you leave the cell with the Ryoka?"

He reached out, his huge hand grabbing the teammate's collar and lifting him up.

The team member's feet left the ground, his breath caught in his collar, and the handwritten copy slipped from his fingers, tumbling twice in the air before landing at Komamura's feet.

Komamura glanced down at the inscription; it was written in Marechiyo Ōmaeda's own handwriting—"Assist the Ryoka to Sōkyoku Hill to rescue Rukia Kuchiki."

Komamura's pupils contracted sharply, his hands clenched so tightly that the fabric creaked, and the team member's face turned bright red as he struggled to breathe.

"Assist the Ryoka to the Sōkyoku Hill to rescue Rukia?!"

Komamura's voice was low. "This is your mission? Based on this mission alone, can I consider your entire Second Division to have betrayed the Gotei 13?"

The team member's vision began to blur, but his voice remained firm. "We, the Stealth Force, exist solely to protect Soul Society, and as long as this purpose remains unchanged, we are not traitors!"

He stared at Komamura, his eyes filled with stubbornness. His mission was almost certainly a failure, but he still refused to give in.

"So you're saying all the other squads were wrong? Captain-Commander's decision was wrong too?"

Komamura's canine eyes gleamed in the shadow of his helmet. "Do you know how many soldiers were injured in this Ryoka invasion?"

Just because your Second Division thinks the execution was problematic, you're going to team up with these people? Are you even going to ignore the Captain-Commander's decision?!

He began to exert force with his arm, preparing to slam the team member to the ground. Just as his arm was raised high, a thick cloud of red smoke exploded at the alley entrance.

Komamura's sense of smell was more acute than the other Soul Reaper; to him, the pungent odor was like having an entire bottle of Chili Powder poured directly into his nostrils.

He bent over abruptly, his violent cough making his entire chest tremble, and the hand that was gripping the teammate's collar involuntarily loosened.

"What is this thing!" Komamura's voice was torn to shreds by coughing.

The team member fell to the ground, but Hanatarō caught him and dragged him to the corner of the alley. Ganju dusted off the remaining powder on his hands and tightened his headscarf.

"Does the high and mighty Soul Reaper never make mistakes? Does he never make any mistakes?!"

Amidst the smoke and dust, Iba squinted, his hand on his sword hilt as he charged toward the direction of the Ryoka. His footsteps had barely crossed the edge of the smoke when an even thicker wall blocked his path— Chad's giant right arm.

The rough, black and red fist was embedded in the trajectory of his charge on the Iba, forcing him to stop.

"Get out of my way!" Iba his sword, the blade slicing through the air, but was deflected by Chad's right arm.

The blade struck the black and red patterns on the giant's right arm, sparking a burst of sparks, but leaving not even a white mark. Chad remained silent, holding his right arm horizontally in front of him.

Ganju, holding his headscarf, slid sideways to the high wall on the left side of the alley. Reishi condensed on his fist, and he delivered a heavy blow to the wall beside Komamura, sending shards of stone flying and forcing Komamura to turn and dodge.

Hanatarō then used the Kaidō to wake up the Stealth Force: "Are you alright? Are you okay--"

The team member leaned against the wall to stand up, unfolded the handwritten comparison document again, his eyes still fixed on the altered route markings on the paper, his jaw clenched tightly.

Komamura's cough finally subsided, and he straightened up, his gaze beneath his helmet falling on the Stealth Force.

The Captain-Commander's decision was to arrest the Ryoka and execute Rukia Kuchiki.

However, he never dared to slack off in carrying out the orders of the Captain-Commander, but this afternoon he was overwhelmed by a chance encounter and felt somewhat lost.

"Assist the Ryoka to the Sōkyoku Hill to rescue Rukia Kuchiki?" He repeated the words "Marechiyo Ōmaeda" again, his brows furrowing even more deeply.

"Do you even understand what your Second Division is doing? The Captain-Commander's decisions have never been wrong, so how could you go to such lengths?" He drew his sword again, but the tip wasn't pointed at the Ryoka; instead, it was aimed at the team member.