I Was Angry with My Loved One; Had I Told My Wrath, It Would Have Ended

I was angry with my friend: / I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

--William Blake, Songs of Experience (1794)

Moonlight spilled into the dense forest surrounding the Twelfth Division's encampment. The aftershocks of the battle were gradually subsiding, with sporadic flashes of sword light flickering among the shadows of the trees, like candles struggling to burn out.

The Suzumebachi's retreat served as a signal, changing the rhythm of the battle throughout the dense forest.

Those Zanpakuto became noticeably sluggish after losing Suzumebachi as their core.

Some Zanpakuto attacks became chaotic and disorganized, completely losing their rhythm and only able to swing wildly at the nearest target; some Zanpakuto, seeing the situation was not good, tried to escape, but were intercepted by the Onmitsukidō soldiers guarding the outer perimeter of the encirclement who rushed out of the shadows.

Sakiro quickly assembled the Onmitsukidō's troops and cleared out the remaining Zanpakuto scattered throughout the dense forest. Without exception, all the Zanpakuto that tried to escape were intercepted.

"Legion Commander."

Sakiro reported to Fon Shaoling, "Without Suzumebachi's guidance, the Zanpakuto quickly lost their footing. Now, all members of the Onmitsukidō have retrieved their respective Zanpakuto."

Fon Shaoling saw the ninja girl standing quietly behind Sakiro; it was Shadow Crossing.

Upon seeing Fon Shaoling's gaze fall upon him, Shadow Crossing immediately bowed, performing a standard subordinate's greeting.

Fon Shaoling nodded without saying anything more.

"Shaoling!"

Just then, a voice echoed in Fon Shaoling's heart, and a black and red figure shot out from the shadows of the trees, rushing towards Fon Shaoling like an arrow released from a bow.

The figure shrank continuously as it ran at high speed, the huge shadow leopard form gradually fading away, and the black and red particles, like ashes blown away by the wind, left a long tail behind it. By the time it pounced into Fon Shaoling, it had already turned back into the small kitten it usually was.

"Shaoling! Shaoling!"

Oren nestled in Fon Shaoling's arms, his fluffy head rubbing against her chin and neck. "You've had a tough fight! I can fight now too, and I can fight alongside you!"

Fon Shaoling was somewhat surprised.

Previously, Oren could only convey some vague and general intentions through Reiatsu. She could sense Oren's emotions and general direction, but never before had she been able to clearly understand every word Oren said, as if she had heard his inner voice.

"Hmm." She reached out, her fingertips stroking the ruffled fur on Oren's back, smoothing it down. "Oren is really amazing to be able to hold off the Suzumebachi head-on."

Hearing the praise, Oren snorted twice, his tail held high, and he puffed out his little chest in Fon Shaoling's arms. "Right, right! I'm really awesome!"

That look made Fon Shaoling's lips curl into a smile.

Meanwhile, Sylvan and Rain were watching this scene from a short distance away.

"Oren's emotions are a bit too much," Sylvan said through Rain soul link, his lips twitching involuntarily. "Were we this clingy to Shaoling before?"

"Perhaps Oren represents the most emotional part of Amber," Rain said, perched on Sylvan's shoulder, preening the feathers at the base of his wing with his beak. "Amber was probably restrained by reason and common sense back then, which is why she didn't express it."

"In any case, this brings us to three-fifths of the way," Sylvan calculated silently in his mind. "Once we find Rook and retrieve Dagon, we can begin the Integration."

However, Rain poured cold water on the situation. "Don't let your guard down. Sylvan Dagon is in Jiku'a's hands, and Jiku'a has likely been Brainwashing by Muramasa. The situation is still very serious."

"Then we shouldn't delay. Let's meet up with the Captain Kyōraku first. It would be best if they could keep Jiku'a." Sylvan ended his conversation with Rain.

Because the soul connection is shared, Oren also heard Sylvan and Rain's conversation, and his mood immediately plummeted. His tail no longer held high, and his ears drooped down.

Fon Shaoling noticed Oren's change and asked softly, "What's wrong, Oren?"

Oren flicked his tail. "I have work to do... I really wanted to spend more time with Shaoling."

"There's work to be done?" Fon Shaoling looked up and subconsciously glanced at Sylvan.

From the previous battles, she could tell that Sylvan had a very deep connection with Oren —he was familiar with Oren's abilities, could coordinate with Oren, and had a strange bird by his side that could use advanced Kidō.

More importantly, the unspoken understanding between him and Oren was a relationship that could not be formed through temporary cooperation.

"The technology from the Western Branch Bureau..." Fon Shaoling wondered to herself.

"Mr. Sylvan, is there anything else you need to do?" Fon Shaoling stepped forward and asked, hugging Oren.

Sylvan, still racking his brains for an excuse to leave with Oren, snapped out of his reverie and stammered out a half-thought-out excuse, "Well... it's nothing, it's just that the battle with Captain Kyōraku might not be over yet... I think... I think I should go and help..."

"Oh? Mr. Sylvan is quite enthusiastic." Fon Shaoling subconsciously hugged Oren tighter in her arms. "Although I'm not very familiar with the Western Branch Bureau's fighting style, forcing others to fight is not a good habit."

Hearing this, Sylvan realized what was going on and chuckled, "Captain Soi Fon, you might have some misunderstandings. Oren is not someone else—he is a part of my soul. My fighting style isn't much different from yours; I also wield a soul blade."

He stepped forward, grabbed Oren by the back of the neck, and lifted him from Fon Shaoling's arms. "Oren is the embodiment of a soul fragment. Because he's not Plus, he likes to do things his own way, like now."

Oren was lifted into the air, his four paws kicking in vain. "No, no, I don't want to be separated from Shaoling!"

Sylvan tapped Oren on the head with the handle of his staff again, saying in the Soul Link, "The sooner Integration, the sooner we can be with Shaoling in our true identities. Don't lose sight of the bigger picture."

Upon hearing this, Oren's struggling movements gradually ceased. His silver, vertical pupils flickered with resentment and grievance, but in the end, he sighed resignedly.

"I understand..."

Black and red particles surged out of its body again, like a small whirlwind, engulfing Oren. The particles coiled around Sylvan's feet, like a pool of ink that had been given life, churning and boiling.

"Captain Soi Fon Shaoling," Sylvan bowed slightly to Aya Soi, "Then let's go meet up with Captain Kyōraku first. The Zanpakuto's actions tonight were very purposeful; they should have gained quite a bit of information over there. We need to gather the intelligence quickly."

Having said that, he didn't wait for Fon Shaoling's response and leaned forward slightly.

Black and red particles exploded beneath his feet like rolling waves. Sylvan surged forward like a surfer, and Rain spread his wings and followed.

Fon Shaoling watched Sylvan's departing figure from afar. The black and red particles were like a flowing cloak, leaving long trails in the night, just like when Oren ran earlier.

"To fight by separating a part of one's soul?" she murmured. "That's somewhat similar to Zanpakuto."

After the outsiders left, Sakiro dropped her formal tone, walked to Fon Shaoling's side, and lowered her voice. "Your Highness, that person gave me a feeling that..."

"Don't continue, Sister Qiluo," Fon Shaoling interrupted her.

Sakiro pursed her lips.

Fon Shaoling's gaze remained fixed on the direction where Sylvan had disappeared, his dark red trail now completely blending into the night.

"The Reiatsu pressure is similar, perhaps because they have similar talents." Her voice was soft, as if she were convincing Sakiro, or perhaps convincing herself. "This world is vast, and it's not uncommon for people to have similar talents. This world is also narrow; resurrection from the dead doesn't happen in the World of the Living, and it won't happen in Soul Society either."

"Yes." Sakiro sighed and said no more.

"How is Onmitsukidō doing now?" Fon Shaoling asked.

"Most of the soldiers still retain considerable fighting strength." Sakiro quickly regained the crispness befitting a deputy commander.

"Alright." Fon Shaoling nodded, her golden pupils reflecting the flickering firelight deep within the forest. "Have the soldiers rest quickly, then come with me to the center of the Twelfth Division's headquarters to meet with Captain Kyōraku!"

"Yes!"

"What! What's going on!?"

When Fon Shaoling led her well-organized Onmitsukidō to the center of the Twelfth Division's base, she was met with a tragedy.

"What... happened?!"

Fon Shaoling could hardly believe her eyes.

The once towering headquarters of the Twelfth Division, which seemed to cleave the sky in two, has vanished completely, leaving only a huge, sunken crater.

Purple mist filled the pit, and the thick, poisonous fog surged like a living thing, enveloping everything and making it impossible to see anything clearly.

Outside the pit, the soldiers from various squads were in a sorry state, some sitting or lying down, some covered in blood, some with bluish-purple faces, some lying unconscious on the ground, and others being carried onto stretchers by the soldiers of the Fourth Division.

"Captain Unohana!"

Fon Shaoling rushed forward and saw that the usually gentle and dignified Retsu Unohana was lying on a stretcher, with shocking stitches on her limbs, like a puppet that had been taken apart and put back together.

The life support equipment beeped beside her, indicating that Unohana was out of danger, but her eyes were closed and her face was pale, clearly indicating that she had not yet regained consciousness.

"Captain Ukitake!"

Beside Unohana, Jūshirō Ukitake lay on another stretcher, his chest wrapped in layers of bandages, bloodstains still faintly visible at the corner of his mouth. His brows were furrowed, and even in his unconscious state, his face was filled with anguish and struggle.

"This is... the Captain Kyōraku!"

When Fon Shaoling saw Shunsui Kyōraku, her breath caught in her throat for a moment.

The man, privately known by his fellow members as the "second-in-command of the Gotei 13," had his chest bandages changed repeatedly by the members of the Fourth Division, and his head was completely wrapped in bandages, leaving only his mouth and his signature stubble chin exposed.

If it weren't for the two Zanpakuto he was still tightly gripping in his hands, and if it weren't for his distinctive stubble and chin, Fon Shaoling would have almost not recognized him—this person, whose entire body was wrapped in bandages, was none other than Shunsui Kyōraku, who usually wore brocade robes and was always lazy and carefree.

"Who... did this?" Her voice trembled, not entirely from fear, but more from suppressed rage, her nails digging deep into her palms.

Just then, footsteps accompanied by the sound of bells came from the pit where the poisonous fog had not yet dissipated.

Fon Shaoling turned her head and saw a tall figure slowly emerging from the purple poisonous mist.

Kenpachi Zaraki carried Ichigo Kurosaki on his left shoulder and Yumichika Ayasegawa in his right, with Yachiru Kusajishi dragging Yachiru Kusajishi by the Ikkaku Madarame beside him.

When that tall figure stepped out of the poisonous fog, it was like a demon returning from hell, its body still shrouded in lingering purple poisonous gas, yet it seemed completely unaffected.

"Kenpachi Zaraki!" Fon Shaoling stepped forward. "What exactly happened? The enemy who severely injured three captains? Did you take them down?"

"Who knows? I just arrived not long ago, and they were already like this when I got here." Kenpachi's tone revealed frustration, but it was clear that his frustration stemmed from a different source than the others.

Kenpachi handed over the "bundle" on his shoulder and the person he was carrying to the Fourth Division members who came to greet him.

Ichigo, Yumichika, and Ikkaku were all deeply poisoned and suffered horrific external injuries. Logically, such shocking injuries should have elicited sighs from the crew members who took them in, but tonight, injuries of this caliber were commonplace, and the wounded were all of increasingly high status—they had clearly become numb.

"The only one I dealt with was this guy who released the poison mist." Kenpachi threw a Zanpakuto that had been cut in two on the ground. The broken part of the blade was charred black, as if it had been torn apart by some extremely terrifying Reiatsu.

"Judging by the style, this is Kurotsuchi's Zanpakuto, right?" Kenpachi kicked the two broken pieces of the sword with his toe. "I don't believe this guy could have beaten them up like this."

Upon hearing this, a clump of gelatinous substance on the stretcher beside them twisted violently.

She learned the details of the battle from the soldiers who came to report. With each sentence she heard, her heart sank a little deeper, and her face grew increasingly grim.

Sylvan, who had arrived a little earlier than her, saw the scene, and then quietly left, walked into an empty alley.

Rain perched on his shoulder, while Oren lay at his feet in cat form.

Even a cat and a bird could sense that Sylvan was not in a good state.

"But... ah..."

Sylvan lowered his head, his teeth grinding together, his nails digging deep into his palms.

"Sylvan, what did you say?" Rain didn't hear him clearly and leaned closer.

Sylvan's voice rose higher and higher, even becoming shrill. "Damn it! Damn it! Why? Why did you do this!"

He suddenly swung his fist and slammed it against the wall of the alley, again and again. His fist collided with the rough wall, making a very dull sound.

Blood seeped from his cracked knuckles, leaving dark red marks on the wall.

"Aren't you my other half? Aren't you the brother who came to Soul Society with me and shared hardships with me?!"

His voice echoed through the alley, hoarse and strained. "Why did you hurt my companions? Why did you stand against me? If you have a problem with me, come at me!"

Those silver-red eyes gleamed terrifyingly in the moonlight, a mixture of sorrow and rage, like a wild beast driven to the brink of despair.

Why did you do this? Tell me, Jiku'a!!

His the Roar echoed repeatedly in the narrow alley, startling several night birds perched on the eaves of distant houses.

Oren wanted to step forward, but was stopped by Rain: "Comforting him now won't do any good. Let him vent; he needs to let out his frustrations."

Oren looked at Sylvan, who was kneeling by the wall, trembling all over. His silver cat-like eyes were filled with worry, but in the end he did not go forward.

Black and red particles swirled silently in the alley, like a thin layer of mist.

The moonlight slanted in from the alley entrance, falling on Sylvan's thin shoulders, on his still bleeding fists, and on the bloodstained wall, staining it with a faint silver hue.